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#but the moment i saw paul
justaz · 1 month
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thinking about annabeth trailing in after percy and seeing sally laying in the hospital bed, paul sat on the edge next to her, running his hands through her hair, with a little bassinet in front of him. her watching percy go up and kiss his mom on the cheek and making sure shes okay before his gaze immediately flicks to the bassinet. annabeth greeting sally quietly and making sure shes alright as she subtly watches percy shuffle around the bed toward the bassinet. he stares down at his little sister, newly born, and is just. so. soft.
paul helps him lift her from the bassinet and places her tiny body in percy’s arms and he’s just staring at her, wide-eyed and adoring and annabeth knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that no harm will ever befall that little girl otherwise percy will ravage everything and everyone that dared harm her. percy cradles her, his body slightly swaying, and he whispers softly to her, greeting her and introducing himself and annabeth is falling more and more in love which she didn’t think was possible at this point.
they had talked briefly before about the idea of having children but both agreed that not only was it a long way off but they also shared similar fears of the kind of parents they’d be, but staring at percy now, holding a tiny baby in his arms, his touch feather light as if she was a delicate, fragile thing that would shatter if he even spoke too loud, annabeth knows. she knows just the kind of father he’d be and gods does she want that. she can see it now, herself laying in the hospital bed, percy sitting on the edge and holding their child, his voice thin and shaky as he carries not just their child but the weight of his love and pride for his wife and family they’re creating. annabeth has never wanted anything more.
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guardian-angle22 · 1 year
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911: Lone Star S4 E14 | The Case of the Stolen Pudding Cup -> The Crime Exposed
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im still stuck on the concept that maybe yoko made up mclennon out of whole cloth. god. plot twist of a lifetime that would be.
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aurum-ass · 3 months
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I'm not the only one who felt a little lot of tension between jesus and javier (when u meet him again in the last episode) right?
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Gay ass
(kate and him are still great, but there are multiple universes for a reason)
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mariocki · 6 months
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Saw (2004)
"Congratulations. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore."
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jrueships · 1 year
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pg (justifiably) complaining about d*llon to d*llons number one stan
" if thats what gets him goin-" <- offering him room for explanation, a gentleman's elaboration that is not intending personal offense
Jaren, instantly personally offended: Y o u think it's A n t i c s 🤨😒. * contemplates killing *
" i think it's antics 👐🏽 !.. you-you would know better (MM.)- 💧.. you would know better than me :) like it's-it's-it's " <- staying strong on his statements but getting scared 😭
Jaren: 😒 . * sideeyes camera. * * surveys the room for witnesses . * * contemplates killing. * * big American psycho calm down girl vs kill girl kill inner turmoil lung-filling *
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fonmythenmetz · 1 year
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The decision to make Feyd a gollum was it for me. I cared about no other character in the franchise and was looking forward to all the fandom hype, but they had to change things from the original for literally no reason at all and make the boy a psycho. I’ll drop a feydpaul multi chapter at the end of this year and will be gone from this fandom for good. Tired of being disappointed.
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foryouwereinmysong · 1 year
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youtube
my head is screaming get a grip girl
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fa-dubu · 1 year
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Like my father before me, I shall become a jobless husband, only here to sweatily vacuum and loudly clear my nose everytime I exit the room
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lilake · 2 years
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i just saw aftersun and oh my goddd oh my goddddddd
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wulfhalls · 7 months
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There is no measuring Muad'Dib's motives by ordinary standards. In the moment of his triumph, he saw the death prepared for him, yet he accepted the treachery. Can you say he did this out of a sense of justice? Whose justice, then? Remember, we speak now of the Muad'Dib who ordered battle drums made from his enemies' skins, the Muad'Dib who denied the conventions of his ducal past with a wave of the hand, saying merely: 'I am the Kwisatz Haderach. That is reason enough.”
TIMOTHEE CHALAMET AS PAUL MUAD'DIB ATREIDES
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murdrdocs · 7 months
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do you believe in us?
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description. from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.
includes. STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around
wc: 5.3k+
a/n: title from us by movement. artwork credit to revol404 on instagram. ao3 link
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When you were younger, you saw Castle Caladan for what it wasn’t. 
In nearly all of your memories, Castle Caladan was warm and bright. The sun shone into the large windows, illuminating the gray hallways and providing a comforting warmth that seduced your young mind into seeing Castle Caladan as one of the residences from the fairytales your mother would tell you. In these memories you were always running and smiling, often hand-in-hand with your best friend. Your first love. 
Paul Atreides. 
Castle Caladan was the home of the person you cared about most. Therefore, visits were vacations. They were scarce, becoming more rare the older you got, but that only made you treasure them more. 
You and Paul would spend the entire day together, even going as far as to sneak out of your allocated bedrooms and tiptoe into the chambers of the other. In the morning, the maids would find two little bodies sharing a bed, hands reaching out to touch the other in the empty space between you both. 
And as you grew, you traded running around the halls for playing each other in chess. Playing throughout the fields was traded for walking along the shoreline. 
Sneaking into each other's bedroom only changed by the nature of intentions. You still ached to spend more time together, but the innocence of it was lost. In the solitude of the night, you would make up for the time lost during the day to Paul’s training as the heir, and your duties with your mother and Lady Jessica. 
When your mother broke the news, she misled you. 
“You will be permanently living with the Atreides family,” came her carefully chosen words. If she had not trained you, maybe it would’ve taken you longer to catch the implications. Maybe you would not have understood what circumstances had brought this upon your family until you were packing, or even until you were already en route to Caladan. 
Instead, it’s then and there that you realize how your chances have been lowered to none. 
Your mother had said your name, her tone as dry and disappointed as her eyes. “You will never be able to marry him. It is as I said.” 
And that was that. 
Your best friend becomes your step brother in the blink of an eye. Together, you made up the new and noble siblings of House Atreides. 
Your mother and Paul's father were married, and you and Paul now shared a last name. It was an immovable fact, no matter how often you and Paul attempted to convince each other of the opposite in moments of intense desperation. 
No matter how many times you tried to convince the other that marriage is a procedure that could be reversed should the need ever arise, you both knew that a reversal would be unlikely.
Duke Leto married your mother despite his clear love for Lady Jessica for security. If he could manage to commit such an act onto the one he loves, then there would be no undoing this.
Now, you see Castle Caladan for what it is. 
As beautiful as it is dreary. As cold as it is large. As encompassing as it is comforting. 
You sit at the breakfast table next to Paul and across from your mother. Lady Jessica sits at the end of the table, and Duke Leto, your stepfather, is absent. 
There’s no small talk, just the silent scraping of utensils against expensive china and the occasional audible gulp of fluid down throats. 
Every so often, you throw a curious glance Paul’s way, and the look he throws at you is in similar fashion. You both feel the stiffness in the air. 
Paul raises his eyebrows. He nudges them towards your mother and then his mother, and does the same with his eyes for emphasis. 
You slightly widen your eyes pointedly, your way of saying I know without having to say it. His lips pull up into a small smile and then you both turn back to face your plates. 
The tense silence continues for a while. Your mother addresses Lady Jessica. Lady Jessica addresses Paul. Your mother addresses you and Paul. 
And then your plates are cleaned and Paul is standing. 
“May we be excused?” 
It’s surprisingly a clear day outside, and you did not have to speak to Paul to know that he intended for both of you to enjoy the agreeable weather before Caladan was inevitably submerged in water once more later in the night. 
“You may be excused,” Lady Jessica confirms. 
You’re in the midst of rising from your seat and pushing the chair out from under you whenever you catch Lady Jessica’s eye. She does not say anything to you, but she does not need to. 
Just the cold gaze of her blue eyes alone are enough to make you sink back into your seat. From behind you, Paul calls your name. If you were not locked in a trance, you would have looked at him, you would have found the soothing blue-green of his eyes instead of the petrifying chill of his mothers. 
“I’ll see you later, Paul,” you tell him on your own volition, but you think that is what Lady Jessica wanted you to say anyway. 
She waits until the dining room is cleared of anyone other than you two before she begins to communicate. 
“You and my son…” Her words taper off and you are too busy focusing on the way her lips have only moved to take in another bite of her breakfast, and not to speak to you. 
While you understand the ways of the Bene Gesserit, it never fails to amaze you. 
“Ma’am?” You are playing dumb and both of you are aware. 
Still, Lady Jessica elaborates, “You both have had feelings for the other since you were young.” 
There is no room for denial so there is no reason for you to attempt it. You nod twice, casting your eyes down to your lap where your hands lay restlessly. You begin to pick at your nails as Lady Jessica continues. 
“And are those feelings still present?” 
Your answer comes entirely too quick. 
“No!” Your voice echoes around the room and you cringe. 
Lady Jessica lifts an eyebrow. She senses your dishonesty. 
You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “Yes, ma’am. But we have not acted on them.” 
When she communicates this time, it is with her voice. 
“Good. You are a smart girl and your mother has raised you well. I’m sure you will make both of us proud.” She finishes off her food and sits straighter, wiping her mouth free of nonexistent residue with a white cloth. “Now I’m sure you have things to be getting to, right, dear?” 
You have never been happier to leave somewhere. You say your goodbyes as graciously as possible and leave the dining room. 
You’re in the training room exhausting yourself with slightly shaky jabs at the practice dummy whenever the door opens. There is a split second where you’re prepared to turn around and throw the next jab at the intruder, but then he speaks. 
“If I were Gurney I would chastise you for fighting with your back to the door.” 
You speak around your heavy  breaths. 
“Eyes in the back of my head, remember?” 
Your reference is one that goes back to you and Paul’s young teenage years. A phrase you confidently proclaimed once you and Paul both had begun extensive training, learning combat that could protect yourselves and your—then separate—family names should the need ever arise. (To this day, Paul is more formidable in combat than you are, but back then you could confidently hold your own.) 
Gurney had taken over training then, and he had allowed you and Paul to train together, solely because you were visiting during one of Paul’s less intense training sessions. 
(You believed that Gurney always had a soft spot for you and the Atreides heir. Not nearly as obvious as the one held by Duncan Idaho, but its existence is present within the weathered man.)
When Gurney had chastised you for fighting with your back to the door, you quickly quipped with a claim that you had eyes in the back of your head. When Gurney tossed a rock at your back, not big enough to provide more than a bruise against your skin, you were able to block it without turning around. 
Gurney was impressed. Paul was stunned. You attributed it to pure luck. Yet since then, it was never let go. 
When you begin to notice Paul approaching you, you credit your awareness of his movement to knowing him more than you knew your surroundings. You weren’t the most skilled warrior. Your mother belongs to a notable house, which forced you to learn slightly more than the basic survival skills. Some chastised her for withholding you from Bene Gesserit training, or perhaps more in depth training that would harden both your body and your mind. As far as she cared, you could hold your own in a fight, and that is all you needed. 
But you knew Paul. The ins and outs. Sometimes, late at night when you would allow the sickness of infatuation to fall upon you as you gazed at the stars, you liked to think that you and Paul were intertwined. You liked to convince yourself that your souls were intertwined and codependent. 
It is hard to dispute that claim when you know based on intuition alone that Paul is right behind you. 
(You can also feel his body heat and his presence behind you, but in your mind that is not nearly as romantic.)
You spin around to face Paul, your arms raised and body tensed with preparation to fight. 
Paul eyes your posture, cocks his head to the side, and mirrors it. 
It’s over quickly. 
Paul has your dagger thrown to the side within the first three movements. He has your hands restricted in his grasp in the next two movements. With just one more movement, he has your cheek and chest pressed against the wall with your hands bound behind your back. For just a moment more, he stands a respectable distance away from you. 
With the space between you both, the position could be passed off as friendly. The position could pass as the competitive nature it resembled. 
Until Paul takes a step closer and flushes his crotch against your backside, making you well aware of the stiff form within his trousers. 
For just a moment more, you let yourself revel in the feeling with your eyes closed, the rate of your breathing evening out now that you aren’t exerting yourself. You shimmy your hips just a bit, nestling Paul’s erection between your cheeks as best as you can with lack of movement and layers hindering your abilities. 
But then the moment is gone. You push it away when you speak. 
“Paul,” you intend for the syllables of his name to be a warning. At first, they come out as a pleading whine, so you clear your throat and try again. 
“Paul.” This time, it is firm and demanding. 
When Paul hums, it is against the shell of your ear. The proximity allows you to feel his voice instead of just hearing it, and you are instantly reminded of the times Paul had been on his knees between your legs and using the vibration that came from him to bring you pleasure you have not felt since. 
“We really shouldn’t.” You’re trying to convince both him and yourself. 
“Why shouldn’t we?” 
The question should not have to be asked. It is a question that should not need to be answered, for you both know what is preventing you from having the other in ways from before. 
You do not answer. Your forehead thuds against the wall, your warm breath rebounds against the wall and hits your lower face when you exhale. 
Paul starts to gently rock his hips into yours. His free hand, the one not restricting your movement, presses flat against the cement structure. 
When the pleasure increases, and your desire follows, you lift your head and let it lull to the side, resting the side of your skull against the toned muscles in Paul’s bicep. You start to give in. 
Your lips part in a moan devoid of any sound as Paul asks you again. 
“Tell me, my star. Why shouldn’t we?” 
He lets go of your hands, instead using his own for a more important cause. His palm glides up the side of your shirt until he reaches your breast. You cannot feel the warmth of his touch through your layers, but just the pressure alone is enough to have you choking around your words. 
“Because it’s not right, Paul,” you eventually tell him. 
Paul tuts. The hand on the wall meets your waist, his fingertips pressing into the area as he uses his grip to pull you back against him. 
“What d’you mean it’s not right?” He kisses the side of your neck and at this moment, you are considering letting him take you here and now. “It feels right, doesn’t it?” 
You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking. 
You had not realized just how bad you missed Paul until now. Your mind has conjured up images of him in your sleep, perfect replicas of his face created from memories of your time spent together and imagining what could be if you just release your inhibitions. When Paul gently sinks his teeth into the skin along your shoulder, it dawns on you that with just a bit more time, your dreams could easily walk into the waking world. 
Maybe you were just about to give in. Maybe Paul would have convinced you to let him finally have you. 
Either way, the moment is lost whenever Paul steps away from you, taking away all of the contact points in one singular move. 
You turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes already beginning to sting with rejection whenever the door opens. 
You turn your head, both stunned and grateful to see Duncan Idaho walking through, his stride strong and purposeful until he notices you standing in front of Paul. 
He takes a moment to cast his eyes between both of you. You watch his gaze flicker around the room, no doubt taking in as much information as he could, before he lands on you. 
“Didn’t know you were joining us today, Eyes.” It is no surprise that Duncan pulls on the same story from before for your nickname. Just as you have yet to let the anecdote go, he has yet to let the nickname go. 
“I’m not,” you tell him, attempting to subtly adjust your garments. It is clear that you were not as subtle as you could have been whenever Duncan eyes you up and down. You swear there is something akin to knowing on his face. 
“I was just leaving.” 
“Don’t leave on my accord. Paul could use more of a challenge, isn’t that right?” Duncan smiles teasingly and finally looks at your stepbrother. You do the same. 
(You are surprised to see that Paul does not look as flustered as you anticipated him to. You hope you did not pull the short stick.)
“Oh … yes.” Paul turns to face you with a smile similar to Duncan’s on his lips. “Join us … little sis.” The term of endearment sounds foreign coming from him. That is not the only reason why it makes you cringe. 
You understand that both of them are making a joke at your expense. There have been a few times where you foolishly joined Duncan and Paul during their sessions, only to get knocked on your ass by Paul and goaded into getting back up by Duncan. The cycle would continue until you could do nothing but lay in bed the next day, praying for a speedy recovery so you would not waste a day that could be spent in Paul's presence. 
Now that you live here, that one issue would be taken care of. Still, you prefer to be able to comfortably move around without bruises and aches restricting your movement. 
Although your mind is already made up, you cannot help but attempt to defend yourself. 
“Who says I haven’t gotten better?” 
Paul smirks. You both know that while you have improved, he has too. He will always be ahead of you. The compromising position you were in only a few minutes ago serves as proof. 
“Have you?” Duncan asks. 
Your reply comes in the form of dismissal, which you do as politely as you can, adding only slight annoyance to your tone that you could only display in the presence of Duncan and none of the other members of House Atreides. 
“Enjoy yourselves. Paul, I’ll see you at dinner.” 
Paul nods once and then you leave with the boisterous sound of Duncan’s laughter escorting you out. 
Dinner is much like breakfast. 
Duke Leto joins this time, which allows for much more conversation. But the stiff and tense air still permeates the dining room. It takes you half of your entree to decipher exactly where the energy is coming from, but it is so clear once it is revealed that you cannot help but beat yourself up over your previous confusion just a bit. 
Different from earlier in the morning, your mother sits at the head of the table with Duke Leto on the other end. Lady Jessica has been casted off and forced to sit across from you and Paul. She appears uncomfortable in the seat, constantly readjusting herself between quick statements that clearly express her discontent at the new arrangement. 
You would have focused more on the dramatics of your family dinner table if Paul were not toying with you beneath it. 
You are incredibly thankful that he kept his hands to himself, but his feet are just as insistent. Just as restless. 
They poke against yours constantly, not in an attempt to gather your attention as you would consistently send looks his way. Never were they returned. He would either be discussing his day with his father, talking to either of your mothers, or focused on the diminishing food on his plate. 
There were a few occasions where you thought Paul’s actions were accidental. You would draw your foot back, but when his covered toes found yours once more, you knew it to be another one of his games. It was juvenile and childish, but you found yourself allowing it to happen. 
You would take any form of Paul’s touch, so long as it did not compromise too much. 
You repeat your philosophy in your mind over and over again like the sayings of the Bene Gesserit whenever Paul approaches you. 
You stand in the center of your bedroom in your night clothes. Your curtains are still open, exposing the vast nothingness that the sea presents itself as since the sun has set. The stars twinkle above, and you had already prepared yourself for a night of tracing constellations before Paul entered. 
He stands in front of you, dressed just as down as you are. His hair is still a little wet from bathing, and you briefly recount the many times you played with the curls until they began to dampen and eventually dry. Each time, his hair would look unkempt in the mornings, but Paul never cared. He claimed that his hair was just a reminder of the night he spent with you. 
You would pretend to be unaffected by his sweet talking, only to flush at the memory of his words later in the day. 
“Are you listening to me, my star?” His words pull you from your senseless daydreaming. 
“What was that?” 
Paul’s lips tug up in the corners as he dips his head for a moment. When he looks at you once more, he takes a step closer. 
You knew why he was here in the first place, but the advance of his hand reaching for your waist still has your breath hitching. 
“I was wondering if you would let me have a taste of you.” 
He stares at you, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, you are losing yourself as you continue to look into his eyes, analyzing the way his long and dark eyelashes add depth to them for the millionth time. 
Eventually, the raise of his eyebrows cue you. 
“Paul,” you start with a soft tone, an attempt to keep it neutral. But Paul knows you just as well as you know him. Possibly even better. 
He senses the impending rejection woven in just the syllables of his name. 
He sighs. He pulls you closer by your hips. He rests his forehead against yours and presses his hands into your lower back. 
He says your name. No, he breathes it. His breath hits your lips before you part them. With his next exhale, you inhale. The pattern continues until Paul prepares to speak, but you interrupt him. 
“She knows.” 
You do not have to specify exactly who you are talking about. 
Paul sighs again, this time as if he is defeated. 
“Of course she knows. My mother is all knowing, didn’t you know?” He speaks with faux amusement. He’s lighthearted, and the emotion is completely misplaced. 
“We can’t go back to doing this, Paul.” 
He begins to speak over you, but you continue. 
“Paul, we can’t. No. No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too–”
“We can. Yes, we can, my star. Look at me–” 
You do as told, removing the touch of your foreheads from the others to look at each other head on once more. 
“What are you so afraid of?” 
The question is so simple. The answer is, too. It is one you have run over in your head day in and day out since moving in just a few months ago. It is the same response you reminded yourself of whenever Paul would touch you, even if it were just an accidental graze of his knuckles against yours. 
The difficulty comes with admittance. 
But in the safe confines of your bedroom, with nothing but the moon, stars, and sea as a witness, you open your mouth. 
“I’m afraid of losing you.” 
Paul shakes his head gently, sending little water droplets flying. 
“You will never lose me. You know that.” 
“Yes, I will, Paul.” 
“No. Why would you say that? We live together now. We’re bound together.” 
It takes a moment to wring yourself out of Paul’s touch, and when you do, he keeps his hands suspended in the air without making any attempts to straighten his posture. He looks dejected. 
You approach your window, staring off into the distance as you say, “Exactly. We are bound together in ways that will never reach marriage. We cannot get married.” 
Paul’s footsteps are near silent as he approaches you. 
“Does that mean you cannot be mine and I cannot be yours? What we have will always transcend marriage, my star.”
When you do not bother to respond, there is a resounding thud. 
You look to your side to find Paul on his knees before you. You, the bastard daughter, have brought the heir of House Atreides to his knees. Like this, with the low lighting in your bedroom reflecting the highest points of his cheekbones and emphasizing the valleys along the plane of his face, it is easy to remind yourself that Paul Atreides is just as much of a bastard as you. 
You two are in this together. Why should you not be together as well?
You are already planning to accept when he begs. 
“Please? Just one taste and I will let you be if that is what you wish. You have my word.” 
Typically, Paul is a man of his word. When you were kids and you accidentally knocked over a vase, a gift from another of the houses, Paul never told a soul just as he promised. When you had the tiniest crush on Duncan and let Paul in on the secret, he never told. He had given you his word both times. 
It is this time when you first are made aware of Paul’s capacity for dishonesty. 
Either way, you lift the skirt of your nightgown. 
Paul fits between your legs without much difficulty at all. While it may have been a while since you allowed yourselves this delicacy, it is as easy as breathing to return to the routine. 
Paul begins to lick and suck at your essence with appreciation derived from deprivation. His hands press into the fat of your backside, either to hold you steady or keep you flush against him. In any case, you are securely pressed against Paul’s mouth and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon. 
You feel similarly, throwing your leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of your foot into the defined muscles of his back. Your hand presses against the glass plane beside you when Paul puckers his lips and sucks along your clit. 
The position calls for some maneuvering. You bend your standing leg, then grip Paul’s curls with your freehand, pulling him just a little closer to your center. His tongue has slid down to your hole and bringing him closer has bumped his nose against your clit. The bud catches the ridge of it, and you shamelessly run your hips side to side in an attempt to catch it again. Paul, noticing your efforts, does it for you. 
He grabs your ass just a bit tighter, adjusting your robes with one hand before returning to his handfuls, and then he shakes his head just enough to provide the stimulation you were searching for. He dips his tongue into your entrance, brings it back out, and repeats the movement. Coupled with the alternating shake of his nose against your clit, and your recent abstinence, you are close sooner than you would have preferred. 
You sacrifice your minute control over him when you free his hair from your hands, and instead imprison the linen fabric of your gown within your grasp. You pull your garb up, scrunching the fabric into your hand to get a look at Paul. 
When his eyes are revealed, they are already casted up towards you. They crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling at you, and the shape you feel against your cunt is confirmation. When he peels away from you there is a visible erotic sheen across his lips. 
“I forgot how good you taste.” 
He speaks to you casually, in a fashion to the conversations of nonsensical small talk you had been subjected to earlier in the day. 
For some reason, this makes your head spin. 
You nudge your hips back in Paul’s direction and he does not have to be told to return to work. 
There is so much slip and slide between your legs that you cannot tell what is your arousal and what is his saliva. The combination of fluids multiples whenever Paul slides a finger in your entrance, slinking it along your insides before he finds the spot. He pays extra attention to it, watching you as he slips another finger in to join it without much time in between. 
You have not been aware of the volume of your moans until Paul begins to flick your clit with his tongue, after which a croaky sound slips past your lips and it is entirely too loud for the circumstances. 
Your hand slaps over your mouth before you can stop it. 
Paul shakes his head, removing his lips from you but not his fingers. He chastises you. 
“Don’t do that to me, my star.” 
That is all he has to say for you to remove your hand and continue to let the sounds that encourage him spill out. 
(Luckily, your sleeping quarters exist further away from the other’s.)
It is only a few more moments before your lower abdomen tenses and an orgasm seizes control of your body without much warning in advance. You grip your robes for stability, press your fingers into the glass of the window, and keep Paul close with your leg wound around his shoulders. 
He had no intention of leaving at all. He continues to lick at you, now incorporating a loud slurp that is seemingly intended to clean you up.
When the twitching of your muscles has ceased, both of your feet have rejoined the floor for only a minute before Paul has your legs wrapped around his waist. 
He carries you off towards your bed. 
“May I continue?” he asks as he lays you on your back at the foot of the furniture. 
There is no hesitation when you tell him, “Please do.” 
You heard the hushed whispers echoing throughout the hall, spreading information that should have solely remained private to your personal quarters.
"They appear to be close. Too close," came from the voices of your maids, spoken with excitement as the thrill from sharing tales that did not concern them flooded their bodies. Like always, they were in small huddles, bodies curved into each other, their postings abandoned as they assumed that no Atreides would be wandering the halls at this house.
Except you were.
Your lightweight garbs noiselessly tap against your ankle with each careful step, freed from the extensive jewelry you were usually kept in throughout the day. As of late, your mother has been presenting you as a jewel in an attempt to delude the Houses into forgetting that you are a bastard. House Atreides wanted for you to be seen as the potential for great alliances. 
Paul was presented the same.
Marriage became the topic of conversation more often, and you and Paul played the parts you needed to. 
You played the parts necessary to continue this. 
His door is cracked just enough for you to silently slip in. 
“They were talking about us again.” The lack of romance within Paul’s greeting words do not matter as much when his hands wind around your hips. 
Still, you can’t help but tease him just a bit. Your hands find his shoulders, palms easily gliding back until you can comfortably tug at his dark curls. 
“Could you at least tell me you missed me before we dive into Castle gossip? What happened to romance, Paul?” 
He smiles at you like he had been expecting you to say something along those lines. He leans in, pressing his lips to your cheeks and then your nose.
“Hello, my love. How I’ve missed you so. I have no idea how I lasted this long without you.” He is exaggerating. It has only been a couple of days since you and Paul last met into the hours of the night. 
You scoff and gently slap his shoulders. You do not bother hiding the effect of his words on you. 
“I heard the maids talking on my way down here.” You dive into repeating the words echoing around the concrete castle walls, but the way Paul looks at you is distracting you. His green eyes plainly flicker from your eyes to your lips, back and forth, back and forth, with a speed that says he does not want to be caught in the act. His lips, slightly chapped but no less appealing, are parted, allowing his tongue to briefly appear before disappearing back into his mouth. 
You let your words taper off. 
“You can kiss me, you know.” 
He nods once. When he speaks, his voice is a gentle whisper. “I know. I just didn’t want to interrupt you.” 
“Luckily I’m done now.” 
Paul kisses you with familiarity. 
You knew that no matter what, you and Paul would be married off to others. But in your deluded mind, you figured that you might as well have fun while you could. You might as well pretend that Paul Atreides was yours, and you were his, until eventually that would be forced to change. 
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userarmand · 8 months
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PAUL MESCAL as Harry in All of Us Strangers (2023)
"That’s the bit that scared me. When I saw it for the first time in the audience, I asked Andrew if he remembered me doing that. The most illicit moment is not actually the sex, but my eyes looking up to Andrew when I’m about to go down on him." [x]
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allthingsimagines · 6 months
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So It Goes…
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“I’m yours to keep and I’m yours to lose. You know I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you, so it goes” - So It Goes… by Taylor Swift
Feyd-Rautha x Pregnant!Atreides!Reader
summary: What will happen when orders are given and it pits the two people you love most against one another?
word count: 3.4k
warnings: Feyd being very ooc
a/n: I woke up this morning and cranked this out because I couldn’t get it out of my head
The Freman had attacked in unprecedented numbers. They bombed the city, the whole building rattling violently from the attacks. You had been in the throne room as they broke into the palace. The room filled with smoke as the revered Muad’dib made his way in front of the Emperor.
Your husband, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, had kept you securely behind him the entire time. You clung to him like a shadow, holding the back of his tunic in one hand and your swollen stomach with the other. Muad’dib had made quick work of the disgusting Baron, which had left you feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.
You had prayed for the downfall of the Harkonnen’s since the moment they had murdered your entire family. They attacked with no warning and slaughtered everyone you had ever loved. You were the only survivor and the Baron took you to serve as a reminder of their great power. Certainly, you would have been dead in days if not for your husband’s possessive nature.
You had been promised to him since the day you were born as a show of peace between the families. When the Baron dragged you kicking and screaming back to Geidi Prime, Feyd had declared that you were his to do with as he pleased and no one would lay a hand on you. As humiliating as it was to be reduced to property by him, it was far better than whatever fate you would have had at the Baron’s hands.
Feyd-Rautha was a brutal man. He killed as he pleased and sent a wave of terror over every person he encountered. He had terrified you as well. He did not care for your feelings or desires. You were his wife now, and he could do as he pleased with you. One thing that you had not expected with Feyd was that despite his violent nature towards everyone else, it had never extended to you.
Perhaps it was the fact that he saw you as his to own, but it kept you safe and alive. You had not anticipated for love to bloom from your marriage to him, but you did love him in your own way. He would burn the world down for you and had killed anyone who had spoken ill of you. His brutal nature was alluring and you could not resist it.
He saw you as his property, but that changed once he started to see your own ambitions come to light. You wanted vengeance for your family and you silently plotted how best to take down the Baron. Feyd had thought you to be as meek as a mouse, but you were formidable indeed. You made quite the pair and the people of Geidi Prime adored their na-Baron and na-Baroness. What they didn’t know is that the two of you had been plotting how to take out the Baron for months to take control of the planet.
Seeing the Baron die had drove you to tears. People around you suspected it was because he was family or from the brutality of the kill as he bled out on the steps of the throne. You cried tears of relief for all that he had done to your family and to your husband.
You hardly even registered anything else that had happened in that throne room as you tried to pull yourself together. The Muad’dib then sent all of you to your rooms to be held as prisoners.
You only hoped he would spare you and your husband because of your condition. You were six months pregnant with a daughter and you couldn’t have been more nervous of what would come next.
You prayed the Emperor would die, along with the Reverend Mother that had plotted alongside him. She had hated your family since the day you and Paul were born. Your mother was only supposed to have a daughter and she had broke that promise. Paul had held all of the power the Bene Gesserit looked for in daughters. While you were still trained by your mother to use the voice, you never were anywhere close to what abilities Paul had.
Now, you hoped that evil woman would pay for all she had done.
“Wife.”
You looked over from your spot on the bed only to find Feyd moving towards you at a hurried pace. Your heart rate increased at his tense form, “Yes, husband?”
“They’re calling all prisoners. You will stay by my side, understand?” Feyd said as you stood from your place to meet him.
His hand reached out to hold the side of your face while the other was splayed over your bump. You nodded and placed your hand over his own, “Will you promise me something?”
“Anything darling,” He said, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone.
“Don’t get yourself killed. I need you to try to stay out of whatever conflict arises. We need you Feyd,” You said with a shaky voice.
Feyd pressed his lips hungrily to yours and you moaned against them. He pulled away, leaving you breathless as he spoke, “No man will kill me today.”
A loud banging came from outside your door and Feyd let out a growl of annoyance. He pulled away and took your hand in his own as he led you out of the room, your ladies fearfully following behind. You followed Feyd out of the room and were met with Freman soldiers, who all tensed at the sight of your husband. You clutched onto Feyd’s hand tighter as the guards led you behind the Emperor, Princess Irulan, and the Bene Gesserit.
The guards opened the large doors to the room and you all followed in. You stuck close to Feyd’s side as you took in all of the Freman soldiers that surrounded the room. You stood in the middle of the crowd as Feyd stood slightly in front of you for protection.
“There is a mass armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion Freman,” the Emperor spoke as he came to a stop with the General’s signal.
The Muad’dib stood in the middle of the room facing away from you. You narrowed your eyes on his figure as he looked familiar to you.
“How can you be so sure the great houses are here for me? They might be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” the Muad’dib spoke before turning around to face the Emperor.
It was him. He was alive despite all of the odds. Paul.
You stepped forward without thinking as your eyes welled with tears at the sight of your brother. Once Feyd realized who he was he followed after you as you made your way to the front. Feyd kept his hand securely around your middle as you moved through the crowd.
“I am Paul Atreides. Son of Leto Atreides. Duke of Arrakis,” he spoke, but your brain could hardly register the words being spoke as you tried to get to him.
“Gurney, send a warning to all the ships. If the great houses attack, our atomics will bomb all of the spice fields.”
Your eyes widened as they found Gurney Halleck following Paul’s command. You couldn’t stop your tears as another one of your family members was alive.
“Are you out of your mind?” the Emperor said in shock as you made your way to the front.
“Consider what you’re about to do Paul Atreides,” the Reverend Mother said.
“Silence!” Paul shouted with the voice and you heard her fall to the ground.
Before anything else could be said or done, you pushed past a few of the nobles at the front to get a good look at your brother. You squeezed Feyd’s hand as he stood close behind you, “Paul.”
Paul’s eyes snapped to you and you saw his whole body tense. The room was silent as he stepped towards you in shock, “Sister?”
You let out a choked sob as you dropped Feyd’s hand and rushed towards your brother. He pulled you into a tight hug and you clutched onto him like a life line. He pulled away and you took a good look at your brother. His eyes were blue now from the spice and he looked much older than he did when you saw him last.
“I can’t believe you’re alive. How did you-“ you started, but Paul cut you off.
“Mother and I escaped. In all of my visions I never saw you alive, how are you here?” He asked, but all you heard was the fact that your mother was alive.
Your eyes darted around the room, but your eyes settled on the one woman of power in the room. Your mother stood next to Gurney, her hand planted on her own swollen stomach as she watched the two of you interact. She was dressed like a Mother Reverend would be, and based off of her new appearance and the group surrounding her you suspected that was right.
You pulled away from Paul and tearfully let go of him as you hurried to your mother. Lady Jessica pulled you into a tight embrace and held you close to her body.
“Mother, I missed you,” you said into her shoulder as she rubbed your back in the comforting way she had when you were a child.
You pulled away and both of you looked at your swollen stomachs before meeting eyes again. She placed her hand on yours and let out a soft sigh, “You survived, just like I taught you.”
You nodded, without all of her preparation when you were younger you certainly would have died. You looked over to find Gurney giving you a proud look that was filled with more emotion than you’d ever seen from him. You reached forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek before quickly pulling back, “It’s good to see you again, old man.”
Gurney chuckled and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by Paul. “My own sister lives as a testament to our family’s strength. She is Y/N Atreides!”
The Freman cheered, but you only tensed as you stepped away from Gurney and your mother. Your husband would not keep his mouth shut at that. You were his wife after all.
“She is no longer an Atreides. She is Y/N Harkonnen now,” your husband spoke as you saw Paul’s eyes turn to him, filled with anger.
You quickly crossed the room and stood in front of your husband to defend him from Paul. The two had always hated each other and now it was at an all time high.
Paul watched as Feyd’s hand wrapped around your pregnant stomach securely, and you leaned back into his hold. Paul took a shaky breath to try to control his rage as you grabbed Feyd’s hand atop your stomach, “If he hadn’t married me, I would have died at the Baron’s hands months ago. He is the only reason I am still alive.”
Paul bit his lip to contain his own anger and turned to the Emperor as the two began shouting at one another. You let out a shaky breath as you tried to collect yourself. Feyd’s hand rubbed a gentle circle on your stomach as your daughter kicked against it.
You looked back at him and he moved his hand to your face. He gently wiped your tears and you pressed a kiss to his palm. You turned your attention back to Paul as he declared he would marry Princess Irulan.
“But you have to answer for what you did to my father,” Paul growled out as he stared down the Emperor.
“Do you know why I did it? It was because he was a man who believed in rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule. In other words, your father was a weak man,” he spoke and the room sat in a tense silence as your anger bubbled.
Your father was not weak for loving your family. He was a strong man whose love for your family lasted until his dying day.
“Stand or choose your champion,” Paul said, his strength unwavering.
“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I choose him as my champion,” the Emperor spoke.
Your heart seized at his words and you looked up to meet your husband’s eyes, but they were set on the Emperor. He stepped away from you to follow the command, but you reached out to snag his hand.
“Feyd, you cannot do this. He is my brother,” you begged as he kept his eyes forward.
“I do not turn down fights, darling,” he said walking towards the Emperor to get his blade.
Gurney handed Paul a blade and he quickly took a fighting stance on the opposite side of the room. Feyd took the blade and moved to ready himself. You went to go to Feyd, but the Freman soldiers blocked your path. You glared in anger at them, “This is ridiculous! Feyd, don’t do this.”
Feyd kept his eyes forward on Paul as the two took their positions. Paul met your eyes before he looked back at Feyd and held his blade up just like Duncan always had before a fight, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”
Feyd turned his head to find your horrified look before turning back to Paul. He smirked before he repeated the phrase, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”
Then the fight began. The two fought brutally against one another and you could have been sick at the sight. You called out for them to stop, but they continued their violent dance. You looked over at the Emperor to find him watching with a pleasant look on his face. You growled as you moved towards him, “This is madness! Call off the fight!”
The sounds of swords clashing rang in your ears as you stared the old man down. He gave you an annoyed look before turning back to the fight, “Quiet woman.”
Your anger spiked and you opened your mouth to speak, but your head snapped to the fight as you found Paul on top of Feyd with his blade in his shoulder. Your mouth opened in horror as Feyd pushed Paul off of him and ripped the dagger out.
You turned to the Emperor to try to convince him, but an arm wrapped around your throat. The Emperor tightened his arm on your throat as you thrashed against him, “If they want to keep you alive, they’ll finish the fight.”
You fought against his hold, but quickly stopped as he pressed a blade to your stomach. You froze in his hold as your mother called out, “Paul! Feyd-Rautha!”
Paul turned his head to see what was the interruption only to find the Emperor holding you tightly to him. Feyd turned and his whole body filled with rage. The two men stepped away from one another and you smirked, “Now you’ve done it.”
The Emperor hated the look the men’s eyes as they made their way towards him. He tightened his hold on your throat and you grimaced, “Done what?”
Feyd was the angriest you’d ever seen him and Paul wasn’t much different, “You’ve united them in a common cause.”
The two men came towards you and everyone backed away. The Emperor pressed the knife harder against your stomach and you gasped in pain.
Feyd was filled with the urge to commit unspeakable violence at the sight of the Emperor holding a blade to his pregnant wife. You met Feyd’s eyes and tried to calm yourself down.
“I was willing to spare your life, but now you’ve threatened my sister,” Paul said, holding his blade up to the Emperor.
“Release my wife and I will make your death quick,” Feyd growled out as he stepped closer.
“You will continue the fight if you want her to live. I command it!” the Emperor shouted and pressed his arm tighter against your throat.
You gasped for air and Paul was quick to use the voice, “Release her!”
The Emperor quickly dropped the blade and let you go. You stumbled away from him, but before anyone else could act you snatched the blade from the floor and drove it into his stomach.
The Emperor gasped out in pain and stumbled as you drove the knife deeper. You met his pained eyes and glared, “For House Atreides.”
You drove the knife up higher into his stomach one last time before you stepped away and he fell to the floor. His daughter dropped to his side as he took his final breath and you turned back to face Paul. You steeled your nerves and met his eyes before you kneeled before him, “Emperor Paul Atreides.”
You heard everyone in the room kneel and your husband dropped to your side. You kept your eyes on the floor, but you reached over to grab his hand. Feyd squeezed your hand in his own as he stayed at your side. Paul began giving directions and everyone rose to their feet.
Feyd pulled you to your feet and was quick to pull you close to him. His eyes raked over your body as he scanned for any sign of injury. He took your face in his hands and met your eyes. You could tell he was furious at what had occurred as he inspected you.
“Are you hurt?” he growled out as he noticed the redness on your neck.
You placed your hands over his and let out a shaky breath, “I’m okay. We’re both okay Feyd.”
He nodded and moved to place a hand on your stomach protectively. He shakily sighed before giving you a proud look, “You did well there, I wasn’t sure if you would be able to do it.”
You sighed, leaning into his touch, “I did it out of love for my family. That includes you and our daughter, my love.”
A proud smirk appeared on his face, “You should kill more often. You look alluring when you do.”
Shaking your head at your husband, you spoke, “I’ll leave the violence to you, husband. I have other ways of gaining your attention.”
Feyd smirked before pulling you into a deep kiss. You groaned in response as you pulled yourself as close as you could to him with your bump in the way. You both pulled away and he brushed some stray hair from your face.
“Feyd-Rautha.”
You both turned to face your brother, the new Emperor, as he stood in front of you with Gurney at his side. The room was full of commotion as people began to shout and head out.
“We’re taking the fight to the great houses. Can I trust that you will keep my sister safe while I am away?” Paul asked, doing his best to bridge the wedge between them.
You looked between them as Feyd contemplated his words. Feyd looked down at you and let out a sigh before looking back to Paul.
“I will gladly give my life to keep her and our daughter safe,” he declared as he returned your brother’s intense stare.
Paul reached his arm out and Feyd reached forward and clasped it. The two stood staring at each other before Feyd said, “Good luck Atreides.”
They dropped each other’s arms and Paul gave you a nod before he headed off to lead the charge. You let out a nervous sigh, but leaned into Feyd’s hold.
“You couldn’t call him Emperor?” You asked with a teasing lilt to your voice as you leaned against Feyd’s chest.
“Now what would be the fun in that?” he asked and you shook your head at him as he rubbed gentle circles on your waist.
“Will we be alright? The Imperium is going to be after all of us after today. Especially me, since it was my hand who killed the Emperor,” you asked and his hold tightened on you.
Feyd guided your chin up to meet his eyes. He looked like a man ready for battle with how intense he was looking at you, “You are my wife. If any one dares to try to lay a hand on you again or our daughter, they will wish they were dead when I get my hands on them.”
You let out a sigh as his violent words felt incredibly reassuring. You softly kissed him once more and smiled up at him, “Good. That was exactly what I hoped you would say.”
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Logan x Reader pt.3
Listen here folks, I remember a lot from the movie however most of those memories are Hugh Jackman's abs
I hope this is alright, I added a few bits and obviously there will be dialogue that I have forgotten but I really hope it's semi-good, I know a lot of you have wanted a third part so hopefully it lives up to your standards 🫶
There be "violence" in this one
<< Part 2 Part 4 >> Masterlist
Logan had spent the journey drinking Gambit's booze and watching you sleep. You looked younger when you slept, less worn. He used to love taking you to your room when you fell asleep grading his pupil's papers or even just watching TV in the sitting room. He'd scoop you up in his arms and secure you safely in your room, then eventually he'd settle you in his. 
You had said the word husband yesterday, that wasn't lost on him. You'd been married to your version of Wolverine. One that wasn't too ‘macho’ to ask. One that loved you freely. He was a fucking idiot for being scared to take that leap. He and you had settled into a fuck-buddy-but-there-were-feelings-involved situation. 
He could've had more with you. 
Maybe if he was with you he wouldn't have been at a bar when the humans attacked.
He was lost without his friends but he was truly wrecked without you. When he found your body amongst the pile of mutants something inside him snapped. He couldn't stop hurting people. It began with the bad, then the semi-bad, then the not bad and eventually he killed innocents. He killed people that didn't deserve it. He made a bad name for the mutants and the X-Men. He killed the X-Men by tarnishing the memory. 
He couldn't be without you again. He'd bring you with him, take you to wherever Deadpool was taking him.
Surely he could convince you.
“You'll have to wake her soon.” Laura's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was staring intensely but not in an intimidating way. He didn't think she could stare without the intensity behind her eyes. She was born with it, through him. 
“I will.” He agreed. 
“You want some?” She raised an open cereal box. He didn't know why but he didn't want to insult her any more. He accepted some and thanked her. It was chalky but tasted vaguely like chocolate. Laura still just watched Logan, every stretch of his jaw as he chewed and eventually swallowed and then she still gazed into his soul  “You love her.” 
Logan didn't think it was a question but responded. He couldn't disagree if he wanted to. “Yes.” 
“I do, too.” She flicked her eyes to your face and then turned her head, repositioning herself on Blade's shoulder. 
Logan stayed still for another few minutes but the silhouette of the giant, Wade called Paul Rudd, became visible in the distance. It was time to wake you. 
He delicately shook your shoulder and you frowned, grumbling and burrowing higher into his neck.
“Baby.” Logan shook you again, and you let out a huff, squinting open one eye. “We'll be there soon.” 
You raised your head and slowly sat up, eyes sleepy and letting out a small yawn. Logan gave you a soft smile as he flattened a piece of hair that had stuck out, his hand slid down to caress your cheek. 
“You could come with us.” 
“With you?” Your brain was still mush. “I can't leave them.” 
“No.” He lied. “You should be up there in the skull with ‘Pool and me. It would be a better vantage point for you.” 
The plan was to have Laura, Elektra, Blade, and Gambit on the offence whilst you were their defence. You always were the protector, the shield of the group. Wade and Logan were going to distract and then use Juggernaut’s helm to bargain with Cassandra Nova. 
You took a moment to consider with your slow brain but then agreed. “Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” 
You continued to wake yourself up, preparing for a fight. It wasn't hard to, everyday in this wasteland was a fight. Everyone seemed to work for this Cassandra lady which meant that they wanted to kill you for not. 
In your peripheral you saw Blade open the sunroof, before rummaging in his bag.
Gambit spoke over the radio, “so, ami, ‘e gonna be ‘lastin’ a way through those’re hands.” 
“What he means to ask is how are we going to get through? I feel like that was an integral part of this plan and I have miss-” Wade cut himself off when he felt movement behind him. Blade had stood and freed the rocket launcher, hoisting it over his shoulder and aiming. “Oh my god, where did you get that?” 
El glanced through the rearview mirror and answered, “Punisher.” slamming her foot down on the gas.
“What one there's been like five?” 
You couldn't hear the end of his question as Blade fired the shot, it landed right in the centre breaking the fingers. 
“Hold on!” El ordered as she expertly spun the car to the left. 
Smoke plumed as you all were quick to exit. Elektra, Wade and Blade were to the left side. Logan, yourself and Laura to the right, Gambit was in the middle shuffling his deck. 
The others: mutants, supes, enhanced, all crowded you, waiting for the order to kill. There were familiar faces such as Lady Deathstrike, Toad, Juggernaut and Blob. There were others that you were fairly sure you recognised through their distinctive features despite them having different faces, like Azazel and Pyro. 
There were a good fifty more circling you, Laura smirked putting her sunglasses on. Blade spun his weapons then tapped one on Elektra's sais in a ‘cheers’ motion. Wade had his katanas out and your Wolverines both extended their claws. You and Gambit, the only ones with ‘magic’ powers stayed fairly still, well, as still as he could be. 
Cassandra was standing above you all in the skull of an Ant-Man, you remembered when he got there. She was quick to free him of skin and then organs. Positioning him in this horrid way, using his body as a base. It made you sick when you thought of the palaces and the buildings that came through the portals in abundance. 
“You came back.” She spoke. Her accent was posh but her tone was clipped. Clearly annoyed. 
“You have to send us back!” Wade shouted. 
She gave you a smirk and retreated into the right eye socket. 
Here's where the fun begins. 
“Let's fucking go!” Deadpool yelled. You all let out a war cry, Gambit's being “Allons!” as you all depart at the same time, each of you taking a side and going for it. Blade went toe to toe with Toad, Elektra fought Lady Deathstrike, Logan fought a very large man you didn't recognize, Wade fought a Doc Ock, Gambit took on a group of four, and Laura went for the big guy himself. Juggernaut. 
You were paired with Azazel. The man zapping about, striking you and vanishing before you could catch him. It took his tail tripping you for you to land on your back and actually be in a good-visibility position. Quickly you trapped him in a forcefield. It was an intense battle of power. The field had been a bubble but you wrapped it around his appendages and forced him to stay in one spot. Forced him still. But he struggled. He fought against you, red mist seeping from the forcefield as he thrashed about. 
You had trapped him but couldn’t do anything to dispose of him. If you flung him away he would just reappear and it was getting noticed that you were distracted. Quickly you rose to your feet, arms still extended, shaking with brute force and out of the corner of your eye you could see her. She ran towards you and you dropped on hand flinging a force field in the shape of a disc - you had so eloquently named a forcedisc - at her. It sliced through her side but she didn't stop. 
“El!” You yelled, barely dodging the acid she spat. Your arms stayed extended in the same position but you managed to kick her in the chest as she took a deep breath. She spluttered, acid dripping down her face and landing on her shirt. Her skin was immune but the fabric burned. 
Elektra spun to your call and nodded, having fought with you before she understood what was needed. 
You moved Azazel over to her and Elektra stabbed him, your forcefield opening just as the sai made contact. 
As you focused on the exact millisecond to release your palms, ‘acidgirl’ was able to choke you from behind. You conjured a muzzle over her mouth and held it there. Quickly plucking your knife out. 
Killing wasn't exactly new to you but it always felt bad, no matter if the feeling got smaller and smaller each time. You still felt guilty as you thrust behind and stabbed her stomach. 
Once you released the field her acid fell upon your shoulder. The suit fizzled and you were quick to pull the fabric from your skin. It still burned through but you pushed on. 
“Oit L/N!” Wade shouted over spinning cartoonishly across Logan's back to stab someone. 
You hadn't realised how isolated you were compared to the others, you were right at the back of the group, by the car. You threw out some forcediscs holding them stationary and jumped on them, over the heads of those trying to kill you. You ran, ascending up, towards the skull, flinging a couple out for Wade and Logan. They were quick to follow your cue and you made sure they and you got to each eye socket. 
They entered the right as you perched in the left, finding yourself at a much better position strategically.
Their plan was distraction. Yours was protection. You could do yours in your sleep. Quickly stopping a hammer landing on Elektra and misplacing a punch to Gambit. 
You had gotten more powerful being here. You had to. Your forcefields were no longer merely for protection, they could now be used as a force. Similar to Jean’s telekinesis except you were still using the forcefields, only they were now differently shaped, i.e. the ball that had knocked into the man's fist when he aimed for Gambit's face. 
A gate fell to the floor, landing on the Honda, and a creature stalked out of it, dark claws crushing the car as though it was tissue paper. 
You were quick to try and halt the thing. It was a humongous wolf? You couldn't be sure as it had two sets of eyes and three tails. It was clearly not from your version of earth. 
“Let it go!” Blade yelled up, smiling wide. “I got this!” 
You obeyed his order and focused your energy on Laura. Who had just decapitated Juggernaut. That's my girl. 
Quickly you flung multiple discs for her to jump onto, she was efficient as always and leapt towards the right eye socket when Psylocke's lasso yanked her back.
“Laura!” You screamed, instinctively opening a field around her head and closing your fist, crushing it - you'd never even thought to do that, never once occurred to use your power that way - just in time your baby tossed her backpack into the eye socket and it skidded across the marble floor and straight into Deadpool's awaiting hand.
You hadn't even noticed what was going on behind you. There was talking and now nothing. Sneaking a glance you saw Logan on his knees with Cassandra holding his cheeks. Her fingers disappeared into his skin, he was twitching slightly but she looked peaceful. 
Wade quickly revealed the helm and tiptoed behind her. 
“BOOM!” Gambit’s voice could be heard and then a series of much larger explosions than you were used to detonated. 
You were brought back to the battle at hand and decided that maybe crushing heads was the way to go when you saved El, who had been cornered by two men. 
Blade, having been fighting the beast, was currently sat on top of it and plunged a knife into its head. Downing the creature. 
There actually wasn't an awful lot of enemies left to fight and you were feeling good about the outcome when you saw it.
Alioth. 
The celestial dragon had its gaze set upon you. “Guys!” You called down. “Alioth is coming!” 
Realistically there wasn't anything you could do. You couldn't shield them from this. But perhaps Cassandra could? Did she save people from the dragon? Surely she didn't offer them up, right?
“Get inside!” You ordered and quickly turned to find Wade holding her firmly with Juggernaut’s helmet forced upon her. 
Logan was talking to her and you jogged over. 
“Alioth is coming.” You informed. 
“I can't save you with this on my head.” She taunted. 
“You won't save us anyway!” Wade countered, “Logan, you want me to off her?” His fingers twitched near her neck. 
“No.” Logan shook his head. 
“You sure? I'm right here.” 
“It's not what-Charles wouldn't want that. If he knew about you, my Charles, he would stop at nothing to come find you. To save you. He would've loved you.” 
You had known Cassandra for her reputation. She was the big cheese, she called the shots, she had an immense power and used it to do whatever she wanted. Everyone else were her playthings. But here, with the helm on, she looked small. She was tiny and thin and her eyes glossed over at Logan's words. 
“Mine, too.” You knew you didn't have to speak but you wanted her to know. That was the X-Man in you. Charles’ influence. Everyone deserves help. 
She looked at you and you felt as though she was looking into your very soul. Her eyes, even powerless, were weighty. 
“We can't release her, she'll kill us.” Wade reminded you. He wasn't wrong. What could you do? What should you do? 
You didn't have the time to think of a plan. “We need to hurry up, that monster is on its way.” 
A gunshot echoed through the skull as well as your own. You quickly forced a shield up, covering the four of you. 
Pyro was behind it, pointing the weapon at Cassandra. Your eyes followed the angle to see she was beginning to bleed heavily from her stomach. 
“I am tired of being her errand boy! 'Do this, get that', well no more!” He sauntered towards you all, the gun lowered to his side, you slowly eased the shield back as he spoke. “When is it my turn? First Magneto, then Apocalypse, Scarlet Witch and now Cassandra Nova!” 
When he was within range Logan silenced him with an efficient right hook. You know it hurt, because that man was heavy. 
“Not everyone gets a speech.” 
Blood splurged from Cassandra’s mouth as she coughed. “Shit!”  
“Wade, you have to take her helmet off.” 
“She, again, will. Kill. Us.” He tightened his hold. “You missed it, she said she'd ‘rub herself silly watching’ a second ago!”
“She's dying.” You argued. 
Logan agreed, “she needs her powers to help us, we're stuck here if she dies.” 
Wade let out a frustrated yell before he conceded and yanked the helmet off her. Her body fell to the floor as he let go and you were quick to help her. 
“It's okay, can you hea-” She was already up and standing, leaving you kneeling on the floor. “Oh.” 
You stood to your full height and watched as she kicked Pyro’s body before addressing you. “A wizard came through here. He died and I got this.” She revealed a fancy ring. Causing Wade to gasp and say ‘strange’. “You saved me and I am curious to how this will play out...so I suppose I can get you back, but you better hurry. As your friend mentioned, Alioth is coming.” 
Cassandra raised her arms and spun a circle, forming a physical one as she did. It crackled and sparked and in the centre was a street. There were cars and houses and people. It was home. Or a version of a home. 
It was civilisation. 
After all this time you could smell it. 
“Go on.” She nodded towards the ‘portal’. 
Logan grasped your hand and you were tempted. By god you were. 
But Gambit, Elektra, Blade and Laura. Your Laura who you had to help with her periods and hygiene; Laura who came into your room when she had a bad dream; Laura who had offered to help feed Blade - in a similar fashion that Logan did - because she ‘healed’ and didn't want you guys to suffer. 
You pulled free from him. “I can't leave her.”  
“Y/N.” Logan tried again. “This is your chance to escape!” 
“I won't leave her.” You clarified. 
“I-” 
“Guys, chop chop!” Wade accentuated the words with a clap. 
“Save the world and come back for me.” You offered lamely. It was a very long shot. But what else could you say? You knew he was here to save Deadpool's world, if it worked maybe you could all live there?
“I can't lea-” 
You pushed him away. “Go. I'll be here.” 
.
.
Part 4
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pumpkinbxtch · 4 months
Note
Hi!! I loved your aftercare hcs! Could I do a request where the reader is babysitting Estelle for the night since Paul and Sally have gone on a date and Percy comes home and finds reader and Estelle asleep cuddled up together?
girl's night
• the reader babysits Estelle and Percy finds them asleep.
— percy jackson x mortal!reader
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warnings: none
a/n: hello! What a nice request, I hope I did it justice. 😭 Also, thank you!
It all started with a:
— Yes, Mrs. Jackson. I'll be there, don't worry.
Because it was your chance to gain Sally Jackson's trust. People who know her know that this opportunity is like gold, something not even a god would dare mess up or decline. But beyond that (since she was practically your mother-in-law), you cared about something else: Estelle.
Your boyfriend’s little sister. She was tiny, still unsteady on her feet, but already full of energy, and you loved the idea of bonding with her from such a young age. So, that's how you ended up agreeing to babysit her for a night while Sally and Paul went out on a date, which you thought was admirable and exemplary, that romance never dies even after starting a family.
You wondered for a moment if life with Percy would be like that too. Despite his life as a demigod and the differences between how you two were raised, you could see his dream of living peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones. You wanted to believe that when he talked about those hopes, you were included, and of course, you were.
You wished he could be with you, but not even Percy knew you were going to babysit Estelle. You saw him too worried about godly issues and his college graduation, even though he was on break. But you knew that life never stopped and you didn’t mind as long as he let you help, even if it was just by listening.
— Darling! — Sally Jackson exclaimed as she opened the apartment door, and you stood there, mouth agape. She looked stunning in a red dress, reminiscent of that movie "Me Before You." Paul peeked through the door while adjusting one of his funny ties.
— Mrs. Jackson — She chuckled, preferring you to call her Sally, but you couldn’t drop the formalities.
They showed you what there was to eat, talked a bit about Estelle’s schedule, but after that, they just looked at you with a confident smile.
— You'll do great, dear — Paul said, kissing Sally's forehead. You couldn’t understand how they could entrust you with their most precious thing without giving strict rules.
— Her bedtime? — The question seemed funny because they just shook their heads.
— Estelle doesn't struggle much with sleep; it’ll be obvious when she’s tired.
And when they left the apartment, you looked behind you. There she was, waving her tiny hand while giggling.
— It's just us, Estelle — You said, sitting next to her as she kept watching something on TV, something more important than your obvious nervousness.
You wondered if she would just watch the screen the whole time, if you only had to give her snacks when she got hungry and make sure she slept at a decent hour. You were pondering this when you felt a tug on your hand. You looked at her, and she was shaking some coloring pages and a worn-out crayon. Where had she gotten that? When?
She said something you wanted to interpret as, "Let's color, and you'll like it, or I'll tell everyone you're no the one for my brother." Well, maybe not, but it felt like that.
You picked her up and took her to the wooden table where the family usually had dinner, making her comfortable with some pillows to adjust her height. But even then, Estelle stood up and started coloring.
You had your own page and couldn’t remember the last time you colored, so your hand moved a bit clumsily, and being so focused, you didn’t see her hand make you go out of the lines. You looked at her, and she grinned widely, but you knew she didn’t do it on purpose; she was just calling you to see her progress, a scribbled bear with at least five different colors. You smiled genuinely and gave her a thumbs-up, which she took as the best critique of her art.
The night went like that, and you never thought such a small child could teach you so much.
When you made cookies, seeing her face reminded you of the joy in just making them, not so much eating them or how they turned out.
When you watched her favorite cartoons, you remembered what it was like to watch something without guilt or the worry that you should be doing something better or more productive.
When she decided she wanted to dance, you remembered that music could be missing, but never the attitude and good moves.
Estelle ended up holding your hand as you regularly straightened the cushions and rug, making sure nothing was too messy. When you smiled, she did too, and she didn’t let go of you all night.
Finishing up washing the dishes, you looked down to see Estelle next to your feet, sitting on the floor playing with some toys while waiting for you. You stopped to watch her for a moment, seeing so much of Sally in her, but also unmistakable traits of Paul, and in her attitude, you saw Percy. Maybe because he was her big brother after all. Estelle brought her little feet together and touched her toes, lost in whatever a child her age might be thinking when you saw her rub her eyes. That was your signal.
— Estelle — You called softly, and she looked at you with sleepy, shiny eyes. You extended your arms, and she got up to do the same, and you picked her up, rocking her, but she seemed to realize what you were trying to do.
— No — She said clearly. You were startled as she hid her face in your neck, clinging to you. You weren’t an expert, but you knew what it meant, so you sat down with her on the couch, placing her properly on your lap.
— It’s okay — You lied, feeling bad about it even though you knew you had to. You put on a new movie to make her think she’d stay awake, but your trick was to make her fall asleep, though you didn’t plan on falling asleep yourself. You hugged her and got comfortable, the best cuddle ever because she kept holding onto you as you slowly closed your eyes.
You never heard the key in the lock, the quiet footsteps on the floor, nor the warm greeting from your boyfriend, who wasn’t expecting to find you cuddled up with Estelle on the couch, sleeping soundly.
— Babe? — He asked softly, checking to see if you were really asleep. He set the keys down and took off his hoodie, dirtied from some... incidents.
His blue eyes scanned the apartment for his mom or Paul but found no sign of them, leading him to realize why you were there. He walked over to you two with quiet steps until he was face to face with an image no one could take from him. Two of his favorite people, seemingly fond of each other, filled his heart with love, and he kissed both your foreheads. Unfortunately, you woke up, and he couldn’t help but pout.
— Sorry — You mumbled, blurry-eyed and disoriented from your nap, realizing it was Percy. He was smiling, kneeling at your level.
— Percy — You murmured, rubbing your eyes and feeling another weight on your chest, going rigid as you remembered. Your boyfriend noticed your fear of waking her. He extended his arms and picked up Estelle so you could get up normally.
— Having fun without me? — He asked with his sister on his chest, rocking to keep her in the land of Hypnos. You stretched, smiling sleepily.
— There was no way to tell you — He nodded, seeing your phone on the carpet, feeling a bit bad for not being able to carry a phone to stay in touch. He often spent days away, and no one knew where he was, not even you.
— I’ll put Estelle to bed — He whispered, and you nodded, struggling to keep your eyes open in his direction, making him chuckle. Before leaving, he leaned in with his sister in his arms to kiss you.
— Be right back.
You nodded and stood to check the living room. You only had to straighten the cushions and put the chairs back in place before Percy hugged you from behind. At his touch, you hummed, feeling a wave of sleepiness brought on by the calm of having him there, finally safe.
— Hey — He greeted, still whispering, and you rested your head on his shoulder, giving him enough space to plant a warm kiss on your neck. With no immediate response from you, he held you tighter and kissed your cheek, wanting to support you so you didn’t have to put in so much effort.
— I’m okay — You said, realizing what he was trying to do, but he quickly lifted you bridal style, making his way back to the couch.
— Shh, I’ll take care of you. — He soothed while sitting with you, and you wrapped your arms around him, sharing your sleepiness. You rested your head on his chest, and he pulled the blanket from the corner to cover you both.
You sighed calmly, almost falling asleep when you sniffed your boyfriend's shirt once, twice, three times. Groggy, you kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear
— You smell like monster, Percy Jackson — He smiled, and you mirrored it.
— Things got tough — He said slowly, resting his cheek on your head, almost stumbling over words.
— Hmm — You hummed starting to fall asleep, and you both did it.
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