#if wedding/marriages and alliances were so important | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aphroditelovesu · 1 month ago

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Letters from Olympias

❝commission: this is more abstract idea, but I'd be interested to see something with a 'letters to and from Olympias' theme. I've always wondered how Alexander broke the news of his marriage to y/n to his mother and how she reacted. The same goes for the birth of the twins. — requested by 💻 anon.

❝ 📜 — lady l: obviously there is a jump between letters, since events are yet to occur and writing a letter to them would be a big spoiler, but I focused on the ones that were mentioned in the story and at the birth! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! I tried to leave as much of the personality that I imagine Olympias to be as possible. :)

❝tw: none.

❝word count: 2,052.

Letter from Olympias to Alexander after the attack on Cleitus and the news of the choice of bride:

"My dearest Alexander,

I hope these words find you in health and strength, even though my heart is restless as I write them. I have received news that has left me torn between concern and the need to advise you as a mother and as someone who has always longed to see your glory untouched.

I have learned that in a moment of anger you nearly killed Cleitus, a man who was loyal to you in so many battles and whose heart, though critical, was always devoted to your cause. Alexander, the greatness of a king is not measured only by his victories on the battlefield, but also by his ability to govern himself. Anger, when left unchecked, can be more destructive than the sharpest of enemies. I was relieved to learn that he survived, for I had feared the impact it would have on your heart and the loyalty of your soldiers if the gods did not favor Cleitus's recovery.

I also heard about your choice of bride, (Y/N), a woman whose origins are unknown to me and my sources in the camp. I confess that I was greatly surprised, not by the idea of a marriage, but by the fact that such an important decision was made without me, your mother, even being informed. Alexander, you know that I have always wanted the best for you, and as your mother, I have the right to understand the choices that shape your future and the future of our empire.

(Y/N) may be beautiful, she may be kind, but a King's marriage is not just a matter of personal affection. It is an alliance, a strategy, a decision that echoes beyond your life. Does she understand the weight of your crown? Will she be able to walk by your side without her presence weakening the image the world has of you?

I do not say this to belittle your feelings or your choice, but to remind you that a king’s destiny is never his alone. You are Alexander, undefeated in battle, my son, and your every step is watched by your men, your allies, and your enemies.

I ask you, my son, to reflect on your actions and choices. Do not allow passion or pride to distance you from those who love you and want the best for you. And above all, remember that your strength lies not only in your sword, but also in your wisdom and your ability to listen.

Whatever your decision, Alexander, I am your mother and will always be your ally. But please do not exclude me from your life. My concern is not only for the throne, but for you, my beloved son, who carries the world on your shoulders.

With love and concern, Olympias."

Letter from Olympias to Alexander after the wedding had already taken place:

"My beloved Alexander,

I received the news of your marriage to (Y/N), and my heart is filled with feelings that conflict with each other. As a mother, I cannot ignore the joy of knowing that you have found someone worthy of sharing your days. But as Queen and guardian of your lineage, I cannot help but express my surprise and concern at the way in which this union took place.

You are Alexander, my son, the conqueror of nations, the son of a god — and yet you chose to walk such a crucial path without even consulting your mother, who has always been by your side, guiding you, protecting you, and celebrating your victories. The absence of a word from you about this decision hurts me deeply, for I am not only your mother, but also someone who shares the weight of your burdens and responsibilities.

About (Y/N), I know nothing beyond what I have heard: that she appeared unexpectedly and won your heart. Who is this woman who now bears the title of your wife, your Queen, and by extension, such an important role in the destiny of our empire? What alliances does she bring with her? What strengths or weaknesses does she bring to your court? Will she replace me? No, how foolish of me to think so, no one could ever replace me in your life.

I do not doubt your ability to judge people, but, Alexander, a royal marriage is not just an act of love; it is a declaration to the world. It is a promise of stability, of strength, of strategy. What will your men say, who follow you for glory and the promise of a great future? What will the kings and generals say who watch you, waiting for any sign of weakness to rise up against you?

If (Y/N) is your choice, then so be it. As your mother, I will wish nothing less than happiness for you. But, Alexander, the happiness of a King is not the same as that of a common man. Your happiness must be aligned with the good of your empire, the future of your dynasty, and the preservation of your glory.

I ask that you allow me to meet your wife, so that I can understand what inspired you to make such a decision in (Y/N). I want to believe that she is worthy of you, not only as a man, but as the greatest of kings.

And, my son, always remember that I am here, as I have always been, to support you, to advise you and to love you, even when we disagree. You are my greatest work, my greatest pride and, above all, my son.

With eternal love, Your mother, Olympias."

Letter from Olympia to Alexander after (Y/N)'s disappearance:

"My beloved Alexander,

The news that has reached my ears about your wife's disappearance has filled me with concern, both for you and for the impact that this situation may have on your heart and your kingdom.

I can imagine the pain and uneasiness that you must be feeling. I know that, despite my initial reluctance to accept your choice, (Y/N) has become part of your life, and her absence must be a difficult blow to bear. As a mother, my heart goes out to you, but as a Queen, I feel obliged to speak frankly.

Your wife's disappearance is not only a personal tragedy; it is also an event that reverberates throughout your court and throughout your empire. Your allies will question your strength, your enemies may see it as an opportunity, and the people, always eager for stories, will create rumors that may tarnish your image.

Therefore, my son, I ask that you hold your head high and your mind clear. Your grief is legitimate, but your responsibility as King demands that you not allow it to consume you. Investigate the disappearance with all diligence, but do so with wisdom and prudence. Make sure that your search for answers does not compromise your leadership or distract you from your greater goals.

If your wife has been the victim of misfortune, may the truth be discovered and justice prevail. If there is more to it — conspiracy or betrayal — may your intellect and strength unravel the mystery and ensure that no greater harm befalls you or your kingdom.

Know that I am here to support you, as I always have been. If you need advice, resources, or strength, do not hesitate to turn to me. Even if we have disagreed in the past, my loyalty to you is unwavering.

And above all, Alexander, remember that you are the son of a god and a Queen. There is no storm you cannot weather, no shadow that can extinguish your light.

With love and devotion, Olympias."

Letter from Olympias to Alexander after the news of Perdiccas' betrayal:

"My beloved Alexander,

The news that has reached me is as serious as it is painful. Knowing that (Y/N) has been kidnapped by Perdiccas, a man you once called a friend, is a deep wound not only in your heart, but also in the honor of your empire.

I confess that I am overcome with fury and indignation. Betrayal is the most vile of crimes, even more so when it comes from someone who shared your childhood, your battles, and your trust. Perdiccas not only betrayed you as King, but he also dishonored the bonds of friendship and loyalty that once united him to you.

It does not surprise me that the Persians should be the fate of a traitor such as he. His choice to ally himself with our enemies only reinforces the nature of his treachery. But, Alexander, do not allow anger to blind you. This is a time to act with strategy and with the wisdom that made you the greatest of leaders.

Your wife is now in the hands of a man no longer worthy of your compassion. Rescuing her is more than a personal duty; it is a demonstration to the world that no one can defy Alexander and get away with it. Organize your forces, but do so cautiously. Every step must be calculated, every move decisive. And when you take her back, my son, show no mercy to your enemies.

And remember, my son, that Perdiccas's betrayal is not only an offense to you, but to all who believe in you and follow your leadership. This act of disloyalty must be met with firmness, so that it may serve as a lesson to all who dare challenge you.

Know that I am here to support you, as I have always been. If you need advice or resources, send me a word, and I will do what I can to strengthen your position. And never forget, Alexander, that your strength lies not only in your sword, but also in your ability to inspire loyalty and fear in equal measure.

May your anger be just, your strategy infallible, and your victory certain.

With love and determination, Your mother, Olympias."

Letter from Olympias to Alexander after the birth of the twins:

"My beloved Alexander,

Upon receiving the news of the birth of your children, my grandchildren, my heart overflows with joy and pride. Cyrus and Aella — such strong names, so full of meaning and destiny — are now part of our lineage, bringing hope and continuity to your legacy.

Know that this is a moment that marks not only your life, but the history of your entire empire. The birth of your heirs symbolizes the promise of a great future and the perpetuation of what you have achieved with so much effort and determination.

I can only imagine the sparkle in your eyes as you hold each of them for the first time. The responsibility you already carry as a king now multiplies, for you are not only the leader of an empire, but also the father of two souls who depend on you to guide them through this world. I know you will be as great a father as you are a king, for your heart, though often hardened by battle, is capable of loving deeply.

Cyrus, with a name that evokes the greatness of ancient kings, carries within him the strength and leadership that shaped our people. Aella, whose name evokes the winds and freedom, will bring balance, grace, and wisdom to our family. Together, these two little ones will be living proof of your strength and your love.

I want to meet my grandchildren as soon as possible. I want to hold them, look into their eyes, and see the sparks of your greatness and courage in them. I want to tell them stories of their ancestors, of your journey, and of the glories you brought into the world.

As your mother, my heart is filled with love for these children who are now part of our family. I want to know them, hold them in my arms, and offer them the protection and love that I have always given you. I also want to be by your side, helping you guide them so that they grow not only as heirs to a great empire, but as people worthy of their position and their history.

May your wife be well after bringing these two precious children into the world. Send her my blessings and my respect, for she has played a sacred role in strengthening our lineage. Despite the hardships we have faced in the past, I see now that she is destined to be an essential part of your life and our empire.

Alexandre, this is a new chapter in your life, and I know you will rise to this challenge, just as you have risen to all the others. Being a father is an honor and a responsibility that requires not only strength, but also patience, wisdom, and unconditional love. I am certain that you will be as extraordinary a father as you are a leader.

Know that I am here, ready to help in any way you need, whether as a grandmother, as a counselor, or simply as someone who loves you above all else. May Cyrus and Aella grow up surrounded by love, guided by your example, and blessed by the gods.

With all my love and pride, Your mother, Olympias."

#tlq #the lost queen #history #x reader #yandere history #yandere historical characters #olympias #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great x reader #letters #love letters #yandere letters #sorta of #commission #💻 anon

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c0wb0yenthusiast · 9 months ago

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My Lady

Feyd Rautha x Fem!Reader

Word count : 6.5k

Warnings : SMUT! let me know in the comments if I’ve missed anything

Summary : You’re being married off to the mysterious Na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Feyd Rautha is a strange man, but his confusing mannerisms frustrate you throughout his stay in your planet. However, how do you supposed he feels about you?

Feyd Rautha is a leader.

Feyd Rautha is a prince.

He has a whole nation willing to submit to his every request. He does not have time to be waiting for his alleged ‘bride’.

So why is he standing in the hallway like a lost child? It only heightens his anger, his frustration.

You must be making him wait out of spite, since it’s so obvious you harbour no reason to appreciate this marital alliance. He’s already drafting up wicked ideas of what his witch for a wife will look like; clearly you haven’t shown yourself until the last moment to be spared from any chances of spending time with your new husband.

Of course, it’s no secret that the Reverend Mothers’ breeding program may seem ‘unfair’ to some. Like pairing such a worthy, well-bred prince such as Feyd with a young woman who hasn’t been raised right - this must only benefit the alliance of nations and different species.

His posture can only be described as perfection. His shoulders drawn and broad, hands tucked behind his back in an orderly manner to appear more powerful - after all, first impressions are important for alliances.

Even in thought, he cannot call this a marriage. The very thought of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, one that he desires to get rid of as quickly as possible.

However, with perfection comes sacrifices. Since the moment he stepped foot onto your land - your territory - Feyd braced himself as if he were walking straight into an ambush and you were the enemy. His muscles strained against the plain, dark cloths he’d adorned today instead of his usual armour. He was vulnerable to his surroundings now, unshielded and alone.

He pays close attention to the hallway he finds himself dawdling in. It’s dim, built with smooth bricks that are cool to the touch. But that is no distraction for what is to come any moment now.

In mere moments, the two of you were to meet for the first time and officiate your marriage. You were to be his wife, provide him with children and continue the Harkonnen lineage. That is what a successful alliance was, as well as what was expected of by the Reverend Mothers who set up this marriage in the first place.

Feyd forces any kind of hesitation out of his mind, why should he be unwilling? All you needed to do was perform your marital duties and live with him. You don’t even need to be in the same room with him after that. It was simple enough for Feyd to understand after it had been instilled in his head ever since he’d been born.

Feyd was ready to commit to making this alliance work out for both of your nations. As for his own martial duties? It would be as easy as his fights in the arena, entertaining even. You’re just another enemy he needs to fight off in another way.

He doesn’t flinch when the door next to him opens slowly and your father comes out, inviting him in to meet his newly wed.

Then he saw you.

He cannot begin to explain the flood of unfamiliar emotions that crashed once he caught sight of you. He knew you wouldn’t look like his own kind - but this is something entirely different. You are unlike his Darlings back in Giedi Prime, unlike any kind of princess or woman who has come to witness his battles. His feelings towards you deviate from the usual ones he’s been indoctrinated to feel. You’re beautiful in a way that aches.

You are the beginning of his newfound hunger for something new, something he simply doesn’t want to understand.

Feyd Rautha is smitten. So profoundly smitten, it causes him pain that he doesn’t enjoy for once. It gnaws at his bones as he continues to glare at you while entering the room.

“Please, My Lord, have a seat.” You sound mostly unaffected, he isn’t able to piece together what is forming inside your mind. But he can already tell. You’ve probably studied him before this, obvious from your lack of surprise which surprisingly pains him. He wants to know what you’re thinking.

Deep down, he craves to know if you’re experiencing the same feelings as he is now.

Even if he can’t decipher them.

He opts to stand by the chair you’d gestured to, but it only brings a small hint of confusion as you rise out of your chair to greet him.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, you are a mighty warrior and prince. I am glad to become your wife and unite our nations.” You’re dressed for the occasion; your pure white gown flows while you move, practically making your face glow as if you were the only significant thing in the room. And you were to Feyd.

You were his bride.

You were his and that is what mattered to him. Having possession over the finest woman in all the land, it was like a blessing in his honour.

He ignores your suspiciously dull tone, overcome by the sheer beauty that he is currently facing instead.

“As am I.” Feyd struggles to force these words out, he could almost choke on them. His raspy tone seems to shock you, your eyes widen for a split second.

But then you relax just as quick, crossing your hands over one another as you look up at him to talk.

“In my culture, we commemorate marriage with rings. A symbol of our union. We took the time to forge a pair for the occasion.”

He’s too busy watching your lips to pay attention to the servant holding out the rings, but quickly takes one and entraps it inside his fist.

“My Lord? Will you not wear your ring now?”

He almost felt himself falter at the sight of your concern - it seems genuine. The gentle frown on your lips as you wait for an answer tugs at his chest. You wanted him to honour your nation, you wanted him to honour his own marriage.

Feyd doesn’t answer, only unclenching his fist slowly and then sliding the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly, prompting him to examine it for a couple of moments before being interrupted by you again.

“I made sure to choose the most special designs for us. We both have a gem sacred to our culture in the centre of the ring. Look.” You guide your hand towards his cautiously, observing his reaction for any kind of surprise or aggression.

Feyd stays as still as a stone, allowing your tender hand to gesture to the gem encrusted in his wedding band. Although the jewel is a deep, crimson colour it has a small glint that catches his eye. It looks rather simple compared to his Harkonnen style ring, symbolising his lineage and loyalty to his own nation.

Now he had to balance two kinds of priorities: his marriage and his clan.

“When will the ceremony take place?” He finally manages to muster up something showing any kind of intelligence, but it doesn’t phase you. You’re probably already thinking about the rest of your life with a cold, barbaric sadist.

“Well, right now we have just officially married. This was represented by the rings. Tomorrow, we plan on hosting a dinner before I leave for Geidi Prime. Is that all?” Your question isn’t intimidating or full of anger, rather more curious. He’d like to think that you wanted to know more, but now Feyd is mentally batting this newfound want to please you, have you smile or praise him. He is too busy to consider what your true intentions could be.

“Yes. I want to be shown to my chambers.” He nods, placing his hands behind his back once more. To you it looks polite, whereas Feyd sees it as restraining himself. He can’t shake the urge to touch you, claim you properly as his own and see if you’re any different from his own kind. Is your skin softer? What does your hair feel like? All of these questions rush through his mind continuously, pushing his boundaries further and further.

You have no time to respond since Feyd has already left the room, practically charging out with a servant trailing behind him. He cannot bear to look at your face any longer.

It will only feed his delusions of the possibility of love in this alliance.

Feyd is no stranger to the nighttime, but the peace that comes with the loneliness is new to him. When he usually stalked the halls in Giedi Prime, tension was thick in the atmosphere, so thick it could’ve choked him. But that wouldn’t have deterred Feyd’s other senses. There was always some reason to have his guard up.

Yet, as he stared up at the moon from the courtyard, there was only the sound of his quiet, quick breaths. He was still dressed in his cloths from earlier, hesitant towards the idea of becoming any more vulnerable if he let himself adorn his nightclothes. The breeze presses against his face gently, gliding off of his skin and clothes as he absorbs the new sensation of the cool air. Your planet was almost as mysterious as you, so many things unexplained that he surprisingly cannot say a bad word about.

The soft patter of gentle footsteps on the cool stones disrupt his solace, prompting Feyd to whip his head in your direction. You’re making your way towards him slowly, holding up the hem of your nightgown to prevent it from getting any stains from the damp grass of the courtyard. His eyes glaze over your figure highlighted in the moonlight, but only more dramatised from the thin, white fabric of your gown. He quickly averts his gaze before you’re able to get close enough to notice, pretending that he hasn’t even bothered to look at you.

You don’t say anything as you approach. Your hands lie limply by your sides once you stand beside him, tilting your head up to look at the moon.

“Do you not have a moon in Geidi Prime?” It’s soft and cautious, as if you’re treading water and trying to see if you’ll sink.

“We do. It isn’t like your planet at all. Hardly anything is similar.” His sentences are short and unintentionally as sharp as his posture.

“That is why we’re married, is it not? To bring together two nations who could benefit from each other.”

He nods in agreement and watches you out of the corner of his eye; he can see the subtle curve of your lips and how it changes your entire face tremendously. Feyd can’t tear his attention away from you.

“I’m glad that you came to my planet, my lord. I’m sorry if this isn’t how a princess should speak… but it will help my people and that is my sworn duty. Thank you.” You add, bowing your head to him shortly. It’s an embarrassment for a princess to be acting so informally when unchaperoned, you scold yourself.

He nods again, and you can feel a hint of amusement bubbling within your chest.

“You don’t talk a lot, do you? Are all Harkonnens like this?” You’re trying not to faint at the possibility of getting shut down or even attacked, yet it hasn’t unnerved you entirely. You don’t know enough about your husband to know what to expect for your honeymoon in Giedi Prime - which can have consequences for the better or worse.

Finally, he tilts his head in your direction. His eyes linger on your face as his mouth opens to respond.

“No.”

You chuckle, putting a hand to your mouth as you smile and look up at him with those bright eyes that Feyd is beginning to grow some kinds of strange feelings for.

“One of my warriors was sent to Giedi Prime when I found out who I was to marry, so I could understand who I would spend my future with. He saw you fighting in the arena - you were much more talkative then.” Your tone is playful as you wait for an answer, shifting closer to him.

Feyd is biting his tongue, letting the molars press deep to the point he feels some kind of pain that brings pleasure. His usual way to cope with complex feelings.

But he’s not even sure of what these current feelings are.

Feyd usually categorises ‘complex’ as a mix of emotions he’s used to. As if it’s a formula. For example, anger and confusion can lead to frustration, which is something he’s been feeling a lot since he’s laid eyes on you.

But that is not the case this time. He is having an irregular formula that could lead to disaster.

One part of his mind is primal, downright carnal as his gaze flickers to the low neckline of your dress. The way your collarbone is illuminated in the moonlight, how little of your body is covered by this ‘gown’ as his eyes roam your shoulders and neck.

The other is unknown. He cannot piece together why you’re like this, why you’re doing these horrible things to his mind and body. What they could cause him to do if these games go on for too long.

“I am very excited on the battlefield. Like a little boy.” He scolds himself, crossing his arms as he reflects on his last time in the arena.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You are just enjoying yourself.”

“So you understand the pleasure of winning battle?”

You’re a taken aback at his direct question, almost shrinking as he peers deep into your eyes.

“I am not usually involved in warfare, but I do find there are other ways to seek this kind of pleasure you speak of.” You’re a little flushed now, nervous of where this topic of ‘pleasure’ could lead to. It’s midnight and you’re alone in the courtyard with your newly wedded husband - what could go wrong?

“I am no child. I understand what you speak of when using the term ‘other ways’.” He’s much closer now, glaring down at you with such an intensity that you feel as if he’s searing marks into your skin from his gaze.

“I am so sorry, Na-Baron. I- I should not have brought this topic up! It is very shameful, so I must depart now.” You turn to leave, about to grasp onto your nightgown when his sudden grip on your wrist makes you gasp.

“Why did you call me Na-Baron?” His tone is low, intimidating and sending sparks down your spine that shouldn’t be there.

“Because… because…” you find yourself at a loss for words, too nervous to attempt to form a response.

“You say that I am your lord, so you are my lady.” His voice comes out raspier, every word has an edge to it as he speaks. You cannot help but feel as if this is a command.

As you’re about to retort, state that he’s never called you ‘his lady’ so far, he leans in closer. His plump lips are parted, allowing his hot breath to fan over your skin. It spreads a sweet, hot sensation that brings up a fever in your mind. Suddenly, your judgement is a little more clouded, intoxicated by his presence.

“You have not said that I am your lady yet.” You whisper, exhaling shaky breaths as your eyes dart from his gaze to his lips. Then again. It’s a battle that you’re losing as you’re too focused on the subtle movement on his lips as he lets out shallow breaths.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow, at the meal, I will make sure everyone knows you are mine. My lady.” He adds, letting go gently and backing away. His expression remains stern, but there is some kind of mischievous glint in his eyes. A warning of the true nature of this prince.

You try to make out any kind of smirk now spread across his lips, but he’s completely blank. You’re unable to figure out if he’s teasing you or genuinely took your word. You can only assume the best of your husband and what he seems to be planning as you trudge back to your room confused.

Your father knows how to celebrate - whether it is marriage, birthday, or even a funeral he has never failed to plan the most suitable occasions.

You are hitched into a tight, colourful gown that was made specially for you. This explains why you don’t complain when the strings are pulled in a slightly painful way, when the emergency embroidering needle pokes you a couple of times or even when you’re beginning to feel a little self conscious. What will Feyd think?

At that moment, you catch a glimpse of your reflection - why are you so concerned about him? At the beginning of the union, you were so well versed in how to be a good wife and princess that you had no time to consider your own feelings. You could only follow the schedule. Yet in such a short time he’s managed to chip you down into the scared little girl that you’ve always been and can never deny. It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassed for yourself.

He’s given you too many different kinds of signals to allow you to consider his true motives, which completely throws you off after the short encounters from yesterday.

This morning, he greeted you swiftly before going to prepare as if last night never happened.

You scoff, looking down at your ring and brushing your thumb over the jewel now. He’s playing with your feelings. Clearly this is just a honeymoon stage for him: prepare you to continue the Harkonnen line, and then leave you in Giedi Prime to fend for yourself with a whole new nation awaiting you.

You’re just a prize to him.

“Your Royal Highness?”

You turn around hastily. Your handmaiden awaits with shoes in her hands, looking up at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” She continues, handing you the shoes gently.

“I am content. Why shouldn’t I be? I am married to the Na-Baron and joining our nations in the process, which will benefit everyone.” You can’t see how hasty your answer was, how automatic it seemed. It was the only feasible reason to marry the Na-Baron, since true love was not a possible idea anymore in the Reverend Mothers’ breeding program.

Your handmaiden nods feebly, allowing you to sit down and hand the shoes back to her. She’s slipping them onto your feet before a much more quieter question hastily escapes her mouth.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

You blink.

You’re about to open your mouth to speak, to try and organise your emotions with someone who isn’t your unpredictable newlywed.

The door opens and your father strides in cheerily, much to your frustration.

“Come on, dear. The table is set and everybody will be seated soon.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t do anything but what you’re told.

Right now, you just need to listen to your previous training and avoid Feyd Rautha. He’s only trying to follow his own rules too.

You walk with your father, arms linked firmly as the two of you approach the large dining hall. It has been decorated top to bottom in lavish jewels that shine, ribbons that wrap around the entire room and lanterns hanging in corners, feebly illuminating the already bright room. However, when it darkens, they will provide a dim light for a more relaxed atmosphere. You’re not phased by any of this, your father has been planning this ceremony since you could walk. Even though some believe your planet is more ‘backwards’, there is still one similar goal - providing heirs to the throne. You shouldn’t be standing alone once your reign starts, as believed by all the Reverend Mothers who have also instilled this idea into your father.

Along comes Feyd Rautha, the Na-Baron, looking for a suitable wife to continue the Harkonnen lineage and help him rule - it’s almost too perfect. The Reverend Mothers’ were onto this completely.

You only look around, a blank expression pasted onto your face. It’s clear as day how bored you are, which prompts a remark from your father.

“Has he said anything to you?” His tone is deep with suspicion. He eyes you carefully, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What?”

“The Na-Baron. Has he upset you, my dear?” You abruptly stop in your footsteps, meeting your father’s gaze.

“No, father. It’s fine. It’s nothing at all.” You shake your head dismissively, sighing and wringing your hands together now.

“You will get used to it - that’s the part that strengthens your marriage. Getting through the hardships and coming to face your situation with a heart of gold, the one that I’ve raised you to have.” He smiles at you fondly, pinching your cheek gently.

Although his words don’t seem to comfort you, you still smile back and nod goodbye as you walk down the long hall to reach your seat.

In the traditional manner of your nation, the bride and groom sit on opposite ends of the large, winding table that stretches from one end of the room to the other. This gives you plenty of time to enjoy the lack of the Na-Baron’s presence, as he seems to trick your mind everytime he is near you.

You take your seat, sitting upright in the grand, wooden chair. It’s hard to get comfortable, forcing you into position for the entirety of the dinner.

Feyd has now entered the room. His stride is intimidating, emitting solidity and power. He’s dressed in an all black uniform once more, but his ring is clear on his finger as he pulls his chair out from across the hall. You’re able to see the subtle glint, which almost makes you want to change your mind. Maybe you’re just assuming the worst.

However, you never knew what to expect with the Reverend Mothers and their underlying sinister motives. For now, you choose to avoid him and carry on with your marriage as calmly as possible. As if it were simply just a business negotiation.

He acknowledges you carefully, nodding towards you before settling himself in his own chair. You only nod back clumsily and cease all contact from there.

Guests arrive slowly. Friends from aristocratic families and governors are the majority, but there are still many people who were invited due to their hard work and contributions to society recorded recently. You make sure to greet them all grandly, smiling and allowing them to shower you with compliments. The Na-Baron stood beside you, watching you intently as you interact with everyone in sight. He doesn’t say a word, his jaw tense and teeth grind together as he watches with lidded eyes.

You falter under his gaze for a moment, but stiffen and keep your composure. If this is how he was going to play, then you were just going to trap him in your own game.

For the rest of the celebration, you avert your gaze away from the Na-Baron. Right now, your main focus is the people and celebrating your nation as well as the marriage.

The meal goes swimmingly - empty courses and platters of food now litter the grand table after such a long feast. So long that by the time you’d finished, the sun had set. You focus on swallowing oddly shaped lumps of food, trying not to choke on even the smallest crumb from the searing gaze of Feyd Rautha.

Although, even when you turn to the most obscure corners, seats and groups of people - Feyd’s eyes are glued to you. His dark eyes blend with his pupils, creating some kind of animalistic glint when the lights reflect in his enlarged pupils. You can almost feel two bruises forming into your back from the intensity of his glare.

Feyd isn’t hurt, he’s not injured or scratched - but he’s been cut deep. So deep that he’s been searching from the origin of this seething pain since this morning; he almost destroyed his room with the pure frustration bubbling within. He knows it has to do with you. You’re the only woman who’s managed to sway him so strongly that his defences have been drawn back in hopes of some sort of victory.

However, tonight is leaving him with anything but victory as he can’t psychically tear his eyes away from you without feeling tortured. Even if you seem to feel the opposite.

You’re so carefree; you talk to the guests with ease and float around the hall in your gorgeous gown that he just wants to rip to shreds. He can’t bear with his facade of yours.

That’s when he decides he’s going to end it. Right here, right now.

You’re in the middle of a conversation when, over the chatter and laughter, you hear it.

Charging footsteps across the hall. You cannot deny who it is, and you’re grasping for any idea of what to say when he now stands beside you.

“My wife.” He declares, unbothered by the concerning throttle filled charge from seconds ago. His voice is sudden, hoarse like usual and rough around the edges.

You’re at a loss for words, smiling timidly at the couple you were just talking to as he now takes your arm firmly and links it around his own. When you finally look up at him, he’s not smiling. He’s unreadable right now.

The cool fabric of his black cloths rub against your skin, barely covered by the sheer fabric of your sleeves.

“My husband.” You nod at the couple, who hastily bow to him.

For the rest of the night, he’s attached to you like a bodyguard. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t smile and does not look at you once. The only sense of security seems to be the arm still linked with yours.

“Why did you do that?”

He pauses when you tear your arm away from him, staying still in his position as you create distance between the two of you.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can- can give me so many different ideas about you? Is that okay? Is it, my lord?” Your voice trips and stumbles as you struggle to even consider what you’re saying as the words fall out of your mouth with no regard for the Na-Baron.

“I don’t understand you! I know it’s been such a short time- and you cannot seem to talk to me- but I just need to know what your intentions are! I am married to you! I deserve to know!” You continue, pausing to gasp for air and let your shaky breaths fill the large, empty room of yours.

The celebrations had died down and the Na-Baron had decided to walk you to your room. Yet on the way there, your tears seemed to form and burst the minute the two of you were locked away in your room.

“My lady..” he murmurs, approaching you slowly. You’re crying, sniffling and backing away with every step he takes.

You’re so desperate to get away from him, but at the same time you’re dying to just throw something at him.

With too many thoughts rushing through your head, the thought never occurs to you of where you were actually going with your unsteady backwards footsteps.

“My lady.” He’s much closer than you realised. You attempt to back up further, but meet resistance with your wardrobe. A strong arm now blocks your last method of escape, caging you against the wardrobe.

He has you cornered. His eyes watch you intently, plush lips parted slightly as he breathes hard.

“You have bewitched me, changed me for what I am. I am no longer a warrior, no longer the Na-Baron since the moment I saw you. I knew that I was to be your husband, but I also knew that as a woman so capable and beautiful - I did not deserve you.”

His face has contorted and twisted into something entirely different; jaw tense with anticipation, eyes soft and pleading as they look at you directly. He’s waiting for you to say something, anything.

You’re in utter shock. This must be the most words he’s said since meeting you, but you’re hanging on to every word. Looking up at him with so many emotions swimming through your eyes that it’s like a turbulent sea.

He exhales, before continuing to speak.

“But I want you. I want you to be mine - my wife.” He sucks in a breath after saying this, as if it pains him somehow to spill such a secret. His brow line furrows in frustration as he attempts to explain, “We barely know each other, but all I know is that there’s been something about you that I ache for. Do you understand? You play with my feelings, my lady. You confuse me, anger me and entice me all at once. A warrior like I shouldn’t feel this way, he shouldn’t let his guard down for a woman. But that is what I’m willing to do right now in order to make my intentions clear.”

As he whispers this, he offers a hand to you carefully. Feyd now watches you intently, waiting for your response.

The room is dim, slithers of moonlight drag across the room in strange rays, casting a glow on the Na-Baron. He’s utterly pitiful in this moment, the moon now bringing to light his vulnerability.

You let out a jagged breath, desperately searching for words to say. When you can’t seem to find any, you bring your hand to his slowly. Your fingers intertwine and clasp each other firmly - an invitation. His hand is cold, calloused and engulfs your own.

You look up to him only to find that another layer has seemed to vanish, his dark eyes now gaze at you longingly. They trail over your dress, and you can almost hear the cogs ticking in his mind.

You swallow thickly, before letting out a hushed murmur, “Are you attempting to undress me with your eyes, my Lord?” There’s a bit of humour to it as a ghost of a smile graces your lips, but it’s overcome by that suddenly dry feeling in your throat and newfound, carnal want for Feyd Rautha.

��If I wanted to, your dress would be in ruins by now, my Lady.” He may banter with you, but there’s also some concern hidden beneath. Do you want him to touch you? What if you don’t like it?

Yet, with a small shrug, you respond.

“I won’t stop you, if that seems to be what we both want.”

His eyes widen slightly, the rush of giddiness that he would usually feel after winning a battle seems to flood his senses. It’s shameful how he now lets go of your hand to run both of them down your waist. It’s deliberately slow. Teasing, even.

“The ties are in the back, Feyd.” You urge, prompting him to move his hands to your back and begin to remove your dress. He’s still lightheaded from the rush of sensations encapsulating his mind, but he’s able to force out his question.

With his arms wrapped around your waist to reach your back, his face is buried in the crook of your neck now. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as he speaks.

“Do you like this dress?” You can feel his lips against your neck now as he talks, but sense him holding back. He’s waiting for the right moment.

You shake your head.

He instantly rips the drawstring of your corset, it’s deliciously animalistic as he tugs it off and allows himself to get a good look at you. His eyes wander hungrily across your body, glancing up at your face as he searches for any reaction.

You’re completely frozen, overwhelmed by the different sensations rushing through your mind: the cold air on your bare skin, his warm, shallow breaths as they leave patches of heat on your body and his intense, unrelenting gaze.

“Do you want this?”

There’s a pause as you attempt to muster any words out of your dry throat. You finally swallow any anxiety, before answering in a whisper.

“Yes, I do.”

His lips are so soft as they push against yours, plush and comforting in contrast to his rough grip on your waist and back to pull you in as close as possible. You don’t retort, arching yourself into him and reaching a desperate arm to wrap around his neck. His hands are large, calloused and cool to the touch as they press into your skin hard. It only pushes you further into him, moaning into the kiss at the pleasurable pain.

Suddenly, you pull away to gasp for air only to be met with dark, pleading eyes that seem to beg you to stay.

“I.. I want to..” you’re a little out of breath, flushed and nervous as you place both hands on his firm chest. Your fingertips trace over the cloth lightly, but ultimately reach his buttons and claw at them hungrily. Your efforts are futile as you’re too enveloped by lust to register how to unbutton his clothes, leading him to place a hand on yours to guide you slowly. Button by button, he reveals himself to you.

His skin is pale, smooth as you run a tentative hand over his chest. His heartbeat is rapid, his breathing is strained as his gaze is fixed on you. He’s got a chiseled body, unscathed and untouched for a warrior. You can only let out a shaky breath as he begins to guide you to the bed, a hand cupping your face.

You’re not thinking straight, your mind finally coming to a halt when you realise your situation. He’s on top of you now, on both knees as he leans over to stroke your face, which has been frozen with shock.

“My lady..” Feyd murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He’s surprisingly gentle, but you can feel is erection pressing against your stomach as he’s worshipping your beauty.

You squirm under his grip, strong hands gliding over your neck and shoulders attempting to make you wait. But you’re becoming greedy, you want him now.

A small whine escapes your lips as you try to create some kind of friction, which causes him to smile. It’s a smirk. Cocky and teasing as it spreads across his lips.

“You’re desperate, my lady, aren’t you?” His voice is still low, hoarse as he tries to not lose his focus from the slight tingles of pleasure the friction is providing him. He wants to engross himself in the moment before ravishing you, no woman has been so vulnerable in his grip like this before.

He leans in, his gaze trailing along your features as he searches his prey for weak spots. His mouth lands on your neck, sucking on the delicate skin hungrily. You can’t remember what he’d said before, plagued by the newfound sensation of his wet saliva cooling the hickey tainting your skin.

You don’t even want to answer, a sigh escaping your lips at the pop of his mouth as he pulls away from your neck. A small, desperate whisper is all you can force out before you try to move your hand down to your thighs. It’s grabbed by his own and pinned back into the mattress.

“Don’t over-exert yourself, my lady.” He’s still smirking as he begins to steady himself at your entrance, but is just as desperate as you are to get his fill.

Your thighs are pushed apart with his spare hand, allowing him to let out a satisfied groan at the sight of you. Without warning, his hand lets go of your wrist to find your clit. His fingers brush against it softly, caressing a soft moan out of you which only prompts him to continue much harsher. The sounds are obscene as he toys and teases you, only aiding his own pleasure as he watches you clench around nothing.

The tip of his dick presses against your entrance, forcing you to attempt to push out your hips in hopes of fulfilment. You’re unable to move properly, his cold hands tighten around your body. As you writhe in his grip, your gaze flickers up to meet his. There’s a suspicious glint in his dark pupils, paired with the subtle upturn of his parted lips.

Suddenly, sharp sensation erupts within your body, one that tries to push your thighs together to only have them wrap around his firm waist. You can feel the pleasurable stretch as Feyd only savours you inch by inch as he pushes himself in as far as he can. Your skin prickles with heat, spreading across your body like a rash as you find yourself flushed and gasping for air as he pulls out suddenly.

It’s not for long, pushing his dick inside quickly again just to hear your staggered cries. Your body seems to move on its own, rocking yourself against him as he pushes in and out. He’s intoxicating, altering your mind to primal instincts.

His movements become sloppier, his climax becoming more inevitable with every thrust. Feyd begins to lose composure, plump lips parted and panting as his thumb still rubs your clit forcefully. You’re both growing impatient, his begging now becoming audible as the words stumble out of his mouth.

“Please.. please…” you’d never known the Na-Baron to be the kind of warrior to say ‘please’, but you’d driven him over the edge.

You’re also growing louder, whimpering and whining for your climax to come quick and hard. You want it, and you want it now.

You’re the first to come, crying as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your back arches into him as an explosion of pleasure races through your body, tingling through your lower abdomen. However, as the waves of climax subside, you become increasingly more vulnerable to Feyd Rautha still pounding into you.

It only takes him a few more thrusts, but your arm is released from his grip as you cling onto his back. Your nails tear at his skin, the pangs of borderline pain bringing tears to your eyes at the sheer ecstasy of it all.

You hear his breath hitch in your ear, his mouth opens with a gasp as he buries himself inside you for his release. His cum is searing hot, filling your insides hastily as his chest rises up and down rapidly. Feyd doesn’t move for a moment, processing what just happened. But after a few seconds, when your hands loosen and droop down his spine as they’re overcome by fatigue, his arms wrap around you slowly.

He’s embracing you.

You’re both hot to touch, skin slick with sweat as your bodies press against each other. Yet, both of you don’t find any disgust in this. Instead, it’s replaced by a sense of comfort. The certainty that you’re his Lady, as he is your Lord.

#feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #austin butler #smut #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction

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isawritesshit · 1 year ago

Text

The Color Blue - Prologue

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, fluff, themes of forced/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle

Author's Note: As promised, the official start of my next Gojo series! Just for context, this is an AU of the JJK canon events (no KFC breakup, and as of now, no mention of Megumi). It is also inspired a little bit by my other Gojo series Someone. Other things I want to flag is that I do plan for there to be nsfw content in this series, as well as themes of physical and mental abuse. As of now, I am unsure how long this series will be. Updates will depend on my availability to write.

Word Count: ~2.4k

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People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? He cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues.

But, what many people did not know was that Satoru was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that.

And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason that no one could have predicted.

The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, or why the most important members of the Kamo Clan were staring him down when he was barely even five years old. But when his parents asked to see you, that’s when everything changed.

You were carried into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down, but Satoru could tell you were roughly his age. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even seem to notice you, then to his parents, and then finally to him, the only other child in the room.

Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to speak to you when he saw you next.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances.

However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean that he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded out your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you.

There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were his youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom Satoru had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much; only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age.

But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown?

What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with your family again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you.

But it was just the same as before. There was no caregiver to bring you in this time though, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside.

Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask. Instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself.

You didn't look in his direction even once.

The meeting had concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven.

With that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone.

And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank.

Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too.

As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more and tried to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so.

However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter.

Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and your brothers with their wives sat off to Satoru's right, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there in a calm panic. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath.

He noticed your eyes again first.

They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not anywhere the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it had been extracted from a star.

To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close for Satoru to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he quickly discerned how much your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of your features that you had laid out for him. The curves of your face, the shade and suppleness of your skin, delicateness of your hands... His heart was beating so rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once.

But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine, or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you.

A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word.

Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that should have been his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to have been your eyes. Why were they always so bleak? Why did you never look up at him or make eye contact with him or speak to him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?

At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you every so often as you watched the Tokyo scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.

You remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate, one of the many under the Gojo name. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration.

The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You now stood in the center of his grand foyer, eyeing the dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier above the grand staircase. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving.

Satoru couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…

That had to be it.

“Are you afraid of me?”

#isawritesshit #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #female reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo #anime #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #arranged marriage #forced marriage #someone #the hoes gonna love this

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mirohlayo · 11 months ago

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Your writing is so beautiful and amazing! I reread it everyday and spend hours smiling! May I please make a request for either Charles Leclerc or whoever you want! Can it be getting married but it is a planned elopement (no guests, just the two of you)? I am very shy and the thought of getting married in front of a crowd makes me want to cry from fear. Please and thank you!

First of all it's you who's gonna make me cry like omgg love youu so much it's so sweet 🥹💕 I took a little time (I'm genuinely sorry), but here it is! I'm not the best at writing about weddings but I tried my best. Hope you are going to like it !!

"I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH TOO, CHARLES"

( what if running away from your marriage was ultimately the best idea? )

warning : mentions of stress/anxiety, fear of crowd, all fluffly

note : i wrote this in like 45min so it's not the best thing i've written. i also used some french words but it's just affectionate surnames.

word count : 1.3k

It was finally the big day. This day that you were waiting for so much, this day that made you smile in an absolutely exceptional way. It was the promise of a new chapter, of the exchange of your heart with that of your soul mate. It was the promise that you were going to spend the rest of your days with the one who makes your heart beat a little harder every day.

Everything was planned. Absolutely everything. The ceremony, the vows exchanged, the alliances, the witnesses and therefore of course the guests. However, although the guests were all intended to participate in your wedding ceremony, you were not of the same mind about sharing this moment so important and precious to you with a crowd.

You weren't the most comfortable with people. Being very shy and reserved, the simple idea of having to present yourself hand in hand with your partner in front of all these people made you nauseous, and you also found yourself holding back a few tears of anxiety and stress from rolling down your cheeks. , when your maid of honor was doing your makeup.

Charles knew this very well. He was aware that his fiancée, and soon to be his wife, had problems with crowds and feeling comfortable in front of so many people. And for him, there was no question of this magnificent and wonderful moment being ruined by the fear that the looks of others provoke in you.

He wanted everything to be perfect. May you feel comfortable, happy and filled with happiness and love. It was his role, and it always will be, he would do anything just for you.

So, while all the guests had gathered in front of the aisle that you were going to go down in a few seconds, while all these witnesses were exchanging laughter, secret conversations, Charles approached you, hidden behind a magnificent and large tree .

His eyes softened at the sight of you, and his hand gently caressed your cheek. “It’s time, mon amour.” Your eyes were bright, because a few tears of joy were already threatening to fall on your face. You nodded quickly while smiling, your heart at peace. "You're just...perfect. You look so beautiful in that dress. I'm the luckiest man alive." He added, your beauty never ceased to give him the impression of admiring a divine being.

“But where have the bride and groom gone??” A voice louder than the others came to tear through the incessant conversations of the guests, giving way to panic because you were not present to walk down the aisle. People were panting, panicked by your absence. Everyone seemed to be looking for you everywhere, and footsteps were getting closer to the tree.

Charles’ eyes widened as a wave of stress suddenly hit you. Your future husband noticed this, and his eyes were terrified that you would feel bad and anxious during this day. Then he intertwined his hand in yours, and just this gesture soothed the irregular beating of your heart. "It's okay, mon coeur. I've got you, don't worry. Breathe with me."

He took a deep breath and encouraged you to do the same. The air that infiltrated your lungs made you more peaceful. A fairly close sound of a leaf suddenly came to tickle your ears. And without you having time to react, Charles dragged you with him, hand in hand, far from all these people.

“W-wait Charles!!” His hand in yours pulled you towards him as he ran, under the cherry blossom petals that were falling again. And it's as if time seemed to stand still, during that moment. As the sun's rays came to rock your faces, a big smile appeared on your lips as you continued to run to keep up with your fiancé.

Guests would run up to the tree to catch up with you. But it was already too late. All they could see was the magnificent scene unfolding before their eyes. As the gentle breeze caressed their hair, they saw in the distance two young engaged couples madly in love with each other, escaping their wedding ceremony, hand in hand, a huge smile on Charles' face as 'they heard the sweetness of your laughter.

They looked like two children, but two children who were simply happy and completely in love.

You couldn't help but feel light. Light and free. You were running away from your own wedding ceremony with your lover and it seemed so unreal that you felt like you were living in a romantic movie. But the look that Charles gave you during this flight warmed your heart. Because you could see tears forming there, and quite simply all the love he has for you. So you too could no longer.

You couldn't hold back those tears of happiness anymore, as they fell freely down your face.

“It suits you so well, mon amour” Charles brushed against your fingers, where his engagement ring was on. This ring was simply sublime. It highlighted you, just like Charles's.

Sitting next to your husband, your head resting on his shoulders, you enjoyed the sunset and the breeze that made you shiver. You still had your wedding outfits on, and you really looked like two crazy people who had escaped an arranged and predestined marriage. However, it was the opposite. It was the romantic elopement of two people who wanted to do as they pleased.

Still, you couldn't help but be torn. What if your husband wanted a real, traditional wedding ceremony, celebrated with all the guests? You sighed deeply and Charles noticed it. He looked at you questioningly, and you lowered your head, somewhat ashamed.

"I'm sorry. We eloped from our wedding and it's just... maybe you would have preferred that we didn't elope and had a traditional wedding. With all the witnesses and guests." Some tears threatened to flow down your cheeks again. Not because of your words. But by the gentleness with which Charles entwined his hand in yours, and gently lifted your chin so that he could admire you.

All his gestures were fluid and full of love. Just like his gaze, which admired you in an absolutely exceptional way. As if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world. "Don't apologize, y/n. I'm so happy, you have no idea how much. So happy to have run away to your side, to have left this wedding ceremony behind us." He blinked away the few tears on your pink cheeks. "I just want you to be happy. To see you smile, to laugh. And you did it today, thanks to this escape. I'm so happy that we ran like two idiots, and especially to have given you this ring on my finger. If I had the chance, I wouldn't change this day in any way, because it was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. The most beautiful day of my life."

You nodded rigorously, a big smile plastered on your face. Your heart melted at his words. "I'm finally going to be able to spend the rest of my life by your side, and you have no idea how much I can't wait. I love you deeply and sincerely, my heart. I love you so much."

“I love you very much too, Charles” You happily said.

This beautiful day, this beautiful wedding ended with Charles kissing you as if it was the last one he had the right to do, as if nothing mattered anymore. His lips desperately sought yours, as this kiss sealed the promise of a bright future filled with love and hope. A future where Charles will end up living his life by your side, and a future where you will remember this incredible memory of your marriage union.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

Text

7 Minutes In Heaven (Bat Boys x Reader)

Summary// After a night of drinking and a confession that friends should not say to each other, you find yourself on the receiving end of your three best friend’s wicked desires to make sure you are taken care of.

(Hoooooly hell this was a LOT to write and it took me so long but I am so happy with how it came out. 16 pages, 5K words, and I really hope you guys like this. This is obviously just pure smut but we all know that’s why you’re here. ;) Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Foursome, Double penetration, Spitting

The fire was roaring in the hearth while the smell of bread and wine filled the cabin air. Rhys, Cass, Az, and you were all sitting in a circle by the couch as you joked about old memories, the outside world seemingly far away as you took a relaxing breath and enjoyed the company of your friends.

You had come up here after your father had surprised you with an arranged marriage back in your birthplace within the Court of Nightmares. Despite your job with the inner circle he still felt as if he had control over you and you were lucky that Rhys had been there to swoop you away and hide you here.

It had been three days since then and you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. The four of you were as close as could be and you were thankful they had dropped everything to help you out and be a shoulder to lean on.

Four wine glasses lay empty beside each of you though none of you were drunk by any means, the conversation light and mellow as you reached for the half-empty bottle beside Rhys.

“So, Y/N,” Cassian began, smirking when you rolled your eyes at his prying tone. “Who were you going to be wed to?”

“Really?” Rhys deadpanned. “Do you have to kill the mood?”

“It’s okay. I know he can’t help his gossiping ways.” You say sickly sweet, drinking down the red liquid faster than you should’ve. “It was some friend’s son of Keir’s. A terrible man no doubt looking to climb ranks like the rest of them. And with me being the only daughter of my father, you know he was looking to make alliances to secure his power as well.”

“They’re all like that. It’s pathetic.” Azriel grumbled from his spot on the floor.

“The men are the worst of them all, treating us daughters lesser than.” You snort and lean back on your hands. “It just sucks that us women are caught in the crossfire of your pissing contests.”

“Our pissing contests?” Rhysand echoed, arching his brow as you waved your hand in the air to gesture vaguely.

“Men in general. It’s so much harder for us than it is for you when it comes to scenarios like this. You guys get to go and do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want, etc., while we have to be everything all at once lest we ruin our family image.” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head in irritation as you ranted to the group.

“If I were a man I wouldn’t have to put up with being treated as a mere breeding sow or a stepping stool to a higher purpose. I could take what I wanted.” They were all watching you with amusement as you crossed your arms over your chest, glowering. “For example, I bet the three of you never once got lectured on the importance of maintaining your purity for a woman or how to please them properly.”

“Well, no, but-” Cassian tried to interrupt but you raised to sit on your knees and snapped your fingers in exasperation, cutting him off.

“Exactly my point! It’s a sexist, ridiculous outlook on women as a whole. We shouldn’t be made to feel bad about wanting our own pleasure when you lot can take part in yours whenever you please.” You realized too late how you had completely derailed the conversation and glanced at your now empty glass of wine, making a note to keep it that way.

“You certainly have very strong feelings towards this subject.” Rhys pointed out, his violet eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic. Shall we join you in your celibacy?”

All three of them laughed and you felt your face heat in embarrassment. It was your own fault for making it such a big deal and you were starting to regret the ammunition you had just given them. You rushed to defend yourself from whatever picture they were painting of you.

“I’m not celibate, I just-” You tried to get out, your voice cracking as you considered your words.

Three pairs of eyes stare at you as you clear your throat and straighten your spine, finding a small stain on the rug underneath you to focus on. “I mean that in the sense that you don’t have to feel obliged to do that since I’m not. I just think the issue needs to be talked about more.”

“The issue of your sex life?” Azriel quipped, grinning when you threw a pillow at him.

“No! The issue of the scale of men and women.” You retort with a flip of your middle finger. “Can we just change the topic?”

“I just can’t believe you’ve actually had sex with someone. What would your mother think, Y/N?” Cassian faked a dramatic gasp and you resisted the urge to chuck the glass bottle at his head.

"Listen-” You try to cut in but your pleas fell on deaf ears as all three of your best friends started to gang up on your blushing state.

“You have had sex before right?” Rhys smirked devilishly. “Touching yourself doesn’t count, it takes two people.”

“Or more.” Azriel gave you a wink and you blushed crimson, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to regain control of the situation.

“Yes, yes. I’ve done it before with someone else.” You felt self-conscious even admitting to that and you could tell they wanted more details. Before they could even ask though you held out your hand to silence them. “Why am I in the hot seat? Can we move on to someone else? Or a new topic entirely?”

“Oh no, this is very interesting. I want to know more.” Rhys raised an eyebrow, shooting his brothers an amused glance as you shook your head.

“Well if it’s so interesting how about I ask you how many people you’ve had sex with, hm?” You challenged your High Lord, blinking in surprise when he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem telling you how many. What was it you said, we shouldn’t be made to feel bad about seeking our own pleasure?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as you puckered your lips in silence. “I would say at least thirty.”

“Thirty?!” You were shocked.

“If you think that’s scandalous you really don’t want to hear Azriel’s…or Cassian’s.”

“How do you even? Were you courting all of them?”

Rhysand snorted while Cassian and Azriel grinned, the former laying sideways and propping his head up on his elbow. “You do know you don’t have to be courting someone to fuck them right, princess? Sex isn’t magically unlocked by writing poems and delivering flowers.” Cassian teased.

“I know that.” You snapped, frowning. “I just don’t see why. It doesn’t even feel that good.”

The room immediately fell into silence and your body tensed. All three of your friends were staring at you, mouths open, with shocked expressions. You brought your knees up to your chest, a comfort action, as Azriel cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.

“What doesn’t feel good? Sex itself?” He questioned, watching you shrug. “How many people have you had sex with, Y/N?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You went on the defense immediately, knowing they would laugh. However Rhys held out his pinky for you to hook, his face serious as he promised you that no one would make fun of you.

You mulled over lying or not but you knew they would be able to tell. It wasn’t something you were proud of but you truly never got the appeal of it. A few girls back in the Court of Nightmares were constantly bragging about it but you didn’t get the desire.

“Two.” You whispered, wincing when Cassian almost choked on his drink.

“Two? Did you say two?” He said hoarsely, hitting his chest with an open palm to clear his throat. “How old are you?”

“Why does it matter?” You ran a hand over your face frustratedly. “Why is any of this relevant to our friendship? Yes, I’ve only had sex with two people. It was painful, lasted a couple of minutes both times and just left me feeling frustrated and used. I didn’t like it. Can we move on?”

They watched you and you saw their gazes turn from shocking to pitying.

“So…no one has made you cum before?” Azriel whispered, voice tight as you closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“No, they aren’t supposed to.” You said as if it were obvious. “I was always told sex is for the man, to make a baby. It’s not really something that we enjoy but we just pretend we do.”

“Oh you sweet, summer child,” Rhys cooed. “That’s….that’s just cruel. And not what sex is at all.”

You felt agitated, embarrassed, and frustrated all at the same time. It was like they all knew some secret that you didn’t, that they were teasing you again. The night was not supposed to have taken this turn but you had dug this grave yourself.

“I’m going to bed.” You huffed and began to stand, grunting when Cassian grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down.

“I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable or anything, Y/N. It’s just that is a very…shocking thing to hear.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you glared at him.

“Are you telling me that you all care about the women you sleep with? That you make them cum every single time?” Your voice was tight as they looked at each other and then back to you, nodding. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Another pregnant pause filled the room as you watched them, their eyes darkening while they looked you over. There was a noticeable shift in the air, your mouth suddenly dry as you squirmed on the floor.

“Would you like to see it, darling?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as Rhys’s words reverberated through you. They all had the same look in their eyes, one of hunger, but you were convinced they were messing with you.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You laughed without humor, your eyebrows knitting together in anger. “You all are assholes for teasing me, you know that? I’m going to bed.”

This time it was Azriel who stopped you though not with his hands. Two silky, dark tendrils of smoke curled around your arms and held you on the floor. It made your breath hitch and goosebumps rise on your skin as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Az, this isn’t funny.”

“We aren’t joking, princess.” Cassian purred, one of his hands wandering to your thigh as he made his way beside you. “There are many things we would joke about but your pleasure isn’t one of them…and trust me when I say that we would love to help you out.”

“What-all of you?” You asked softly as your gaze moved across all three of them. “I don’t…I mean you are all very handsome, obviously, but don’t feel obligated to-”

Rhysand sat in front of you and grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, the former dragging over your bottom lip as you held back a moan at the contact. Azriel’s shadows were drawing shapes into your soft skin while Cassian’s hand seemed to drift higher and higher, all the attention making your head spin.

Your High Lord knew it too, a smirk working its way to his lips as he bent down until he was a hairsbreath away from your lips.

“This is anything but an obligation to us, darling. This is pure, carnal desire in its rawest form. A primal need.” His voice was smooth as silk, your eyelids fluttering as his lips moved to ghost over your ear. “A desperate urge to take care of you until you’re drowning in pleasure.”

“Look at her,” Azriel growled from your other side, his hazel eyes appearing behind Rhys. He had on a wicked smile, his head slightly tilted as he surveyed you. “She wants it so bad.”

“Do you, princess?” Cassian asked teasingly, his hand stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Do you want us to take care of you?”

“Yes.” You breathed, your sultry voice surprising you as all three of them pulled away and grinned. All of their warmth and comfort disappeared and you almost let out a whine, wanting it back desperately.

“How about we make this a game?” Rhys asks his two friends, standing tall over you. There was already a noticeable bulge in his pants that your fingers were itching to touch. “Seven minutes in heaven?”

“Person who makes her cum the hardest gets to fuck her?” Cassian finished, licking his lips. “Gods, I need to go first.”

However, before he could grab you, Rhys hoisted you up bridal style into his arms. You giggled as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Go ahead and start the timer. I won’t need all seven.”

The bedroom door swung open and then quickly shut again as you were pressed right against it, his lips on yours before you could make a sound. It felt so wrong and yet so right, your fingers immediately running through his midnight black hair.

“Stars above, you’re so beautiful.” He grunted into your ear as he kissed down your neck, his lips latching onto your pulse point while he shimmied off your pants. “I could smell how badly you want this.”

“Please, Rhys,” You whined, his fingertips ghosting over the wet spot on your panties. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t answer you by words but by actions, as he pushed your underwear aside to rub your clit with his thumb. It made your knees wobble from how good it felt. One of your hands came up to grasp his forearm, your head hitting the door behind you. “Oh my gods, that feels-I feel…”

“So fucking good,” Rhys finished for you. He kissed you hungrily, his own cock straining against its confines. Two more fingers dipped down and circled the entrance of your cunt before he thrust them in sloppily, choking back a moan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his skin at the roughness of his motions, his upper lip curled as drank in every expression on your face. “Fuck me,” You gasped as a pleasure you had only read about overtook your body, those thick fingers curling each time they entered you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He promised. “I will never stop making you feel this good, never stop making you scream around my fingers. You’re mine. Forever.” His words were like ice to a burn as you felt a strong surge of ecstasy boil over. Rhys held you as you exploded around his fingers, working you through the best orgasm of your life with words of praise and soft strokes.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” You mewled at his tone as your pussy tried to swallow his fingers deeper. “Such a good girl. You did so well…”

“Rhys that was…I’ve never…” Your words were breathless as you watched him with hooded eyes, your lips slightly parted as he gave you a knowing smile and kissed you. It was loving and warm, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and you melted into it.

He threaded his fingers through your hair to deepen it, taking control, and just as you felt him start to rut into your thigh the door behind you shook with a pounding force.

“Don’t need seven minutes my ass! Time’s up, High Lord!” Cassian chuckled, his grin feline as Rhys opened the door with a glowering look. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”

“Just remember who just made your eyes roll back, darling.” Rhys purred into your ear before kissing your cheek, purposefully hitting Cass’s shoulder as he made his way back out to the living room. You tried to follow him with your eyes but Cassian was quick to step forward and make you step backward., your thighs still shaking.

“Was it that good, princess? Or were you just pretending for him?” He teased as he strode forward, making you retreat until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell back, your smile growing when the general appeared over you. “You don’t have to lie, I promise I won’t tell.”

“It was pretty amazing…” You sighed as he rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees at the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders before you could process what was happening and by the time you tried to squirm away, he had you pinned.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He growled as he gazed at your swollen cunt, your lips puffy and glistening. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess. Is it sensitive?”

Before you could answer he blew a cool breeze across your sex, making you jump. Cassian smirked and used both of his hands to spread you wide open. He leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it mingle with your wetness as he inserted one finger. “Gods you’re making it so hard to be gentle.”

“Then don’t,” You urged, your pupils blown wide in desire. “Treat me how I deserve to be treated.”

Cassian let your words sink in before he dove headfirst into your pussy, three fingers roughly fucking into your hole as he scraped the hood of your clit with his teeth. It was sensory overload and you bucked forward with a small shout, your hands immediately fisting into his hair as he ate you out like a starved animal.

Every nerve in your body had already been shot but this was mind-numbing pleasure. It had you crying out for more, fucking his face as his stubble rubbed against your thighs. He was no better as he sucked and fucked your cunt until he could feel you start to tighten around him.

You hated how fast you were cumming but you also didn’t know if you could hold it any longer, your cries to slow down falling on deaf ears. Cassian swirled his tongue up and down, side to side, making sure to not waste a drop of your excitement. He knew how to eat someone out.

“Cass, Cass-” You tried to warn him, shifting your hips, only for him to tighten his hold on you. “Cass I can’t. I can’t hold it.”

“Cum all over my face, princess,” Cassian grunted as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your body already falling over the edge of the abyss. “Soak my beard, fuck my face, use me to get off. It’s all for you.”

Whereas Rhys had been sweet, Cassian was a little bit of both. It made you yearn for more of his degrading praise and you quickly found yourself following his orders, your hips rolling over his face as you came loudly.

The door started banging again but you didn’t care and neither did he. In fact, Cassian was so lost in what he was doing he almost lashed out when Azriel appeared behind him. You whined when he was pulled back but quickly settled when you felt cool hands running over your body.

No, not hands. Shadows.

Your eyes widened when Azriel’s hazel gaze appeared inches from your face. He had a dark look and an even darker smirk as his shadows lazily rubbed along your skin, his hands gently pulling off your top.

“Did my brothers fully satisfy you or are you still wanting more, mouse?” Azriel cooed into the empty room, tossing the last of your clothing aside so that you were now bare before him. “Answer me.”

“I want more.” You gulped, drinking precious air as the Shadowsinger tilted his head in wonder. “Please.”

“Who taught you those manners, pet?” He raised a curious brow while both of his hands cupped your sensitive tits, thumbs barely grazing over your nipples. It was enough to make you squirm though which he was counting on. “I’ll be happy to give you more but I want you to beg.”

“Beg?”

“Beg.”

You faltered at first, not sure what it was he wanted to hear, but when he went to pull away from your breasts you ran with it. “No, no, please keep touching me!” You whined, groaning when one of his tendrils of smoke circled your clit. “Oh, Gods, that feels so good.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t fucking beg for it, Y/N. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want my fingers. How greedy you are for already cumming twice but still needing more, like the dirty slut you are.” He sneered, his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to just fuck you then and there.

“I am greedy! I want more, I want it so fucking bad, Az!” You cried, desperate for his touch to grow stronger. He was keeping you on the edge. “I am a, fuck, I’m a dirty slut. I want you so bad, so so bad, please.”

“You’re a quick learner.” He smiled before bending down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth at the same time his shadows started stroking your slit. Your mouth opened wide in a silent cry of euphoria as he bit and nibbled his way over to your other boob, the pressure on your clit increasing with each second.

“I always knew you were dirty, mouse,” Azriel murmured as he gave a harsh suck, enjoying the way you arched into it. “Always knew this how you wanted to be fucked. Just look at this greedy little cunt, hm? Look at how it’s swallowing my fingers.”

You couldn’t see it but you could feel it as he thrust two fingers inside of you, the walls sensitive as he stroked them and found that special spot with ease. His fingers plus his mouth on your breasts was heaven as your head thrashed back and forth, your body desperate to just be fucked.

But he wasn’t going to give that to you. At least not yet. No, Azriel was focused on making you cum one more time. The tip of his tongue flicked over your hardened nub as his shadows came back to rub your clit, all of the stimulations becoming too much, too fast.

“Azriel, fuck!” You squealed as you came for the third time that night. This time you felt yourself ascend from your body, watching yourself from below as he worked you through it but didn’t slow down. “Ohhhhh fuck…”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He growled as he removed his fingers, smirking when your eyes had that glazed look to them. You whimper as he picks you up gently, shushing you, then turning to see Rhys and Cassian waiting in the doorway. “I think she’s done for the night.”

“No…” You mumble softly, needily. “I want you…all of you. Please.”

There was a beat of silence as they considered your state and each other before you were brought back to the bed and spread out for their viewing pleasure. You felt like you were cock drunk at this point, especially as Rhys pulled his cock out right in front of your face.

You wasted no time in bringing him into your mouth, your saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth as you worked his cock up and down. Rhys threw his head back and growled, the room seeming to shake before he grabbed a fistful of your hair to help guide you.

“If your mouth is this good I can’t wait for your cunt.” He laughed airly before moaning once more, watching as Azriel stood to your other side with his cock standing proudly.

The bed dipped behind you and before you could blink you felt Cassian rub his cock up and down your folds, words of praise or prayer spilling from his lips as he sunk in inch by inch. It felt amazing and you pulled off Rhys’s dick long enough to moan loudly.

“Shit, Cassian,” You groaned. “You’re so big.”

“You’re just tight as fuck, princess. Gods, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He cursed, his fingers squeezing your hips as you whipped your head to look back at him.

“Make it fit.” You said lowly, your eyes narrowed in challenge which had him grinning. He gave you a shrug of his shoulders before pulling out and slamming back in, rocking your forward and straight into Azriel’s cock. He took advantage of the situation and forced you to swallow him whole, his biceps straining as you gagged and cried around his dick.

“Look at you, look at the little whore you’re being for us,” Azriel said as you started to go back and forth between him and Rhys. Cassian was fucking you like a beast, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word and you never wanted it to stop. “You like being treated like this, don’t you? Like our own personal fuck toy?”

“You’re doing such a good job, darling.” Rhys’s voice soothed, your heart beating in your ears as you gazed at him. “Taking Cass so well. He’s close, I can tell.”

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” The Illyrian General growled as he pistoned in and out. You could feel him in your stomach as you closed your eyes and let yourself feel. “Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He ordered as he finally stilled in you, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as you hung your head in rapture.

He seemed to cum forever and when he finally pulled out, you watched his cum drip down onto the bedsheets from just how much it was. Cassian smirked and collected the leaking seed onto his fingers, holding it out for you to take before Rhys snatched it and sucked it off himself.

Rhys’s eyes darkened at the taste of both of you and he quickly yanked you to him, lying back on the bed and positioning you on top. He helped guide you onto him and when you started sinking down, both of your groaned. The rhythm was soft and slow as you got used to his size, your hands coming to palm at your breasts until you felt a nudge against your asshole.

“Shhhh, relax,” Azriel’s voice shushed as he spat on his cock, lubing it up even more before he started to press into your ass. “Relax for me, mouse. I want you to take us both together. Can you do that?”

You nodded, a stupid smile on your face as you leaned back into him for support at the intrusion. It felt weird but the longer you waited, the more pleasurable it got. Soon you were rocking on to both of them in need, your sex hungry for more as they started fucking you at the same time.

It was a fullness you had never felt before but you don’t know how you could ever go on without it. They worked beautifully with each other, their moans mixing with yours as Azriel replaced your hands with his own. Rhysand watched from below, his violet eyes burning with desire as he pulled you down for a heated kiss.

They were fighting over you and it was driving you crazy. And just as Azriel went to pull you back to him, Cassian appeared at your side with his cock in his hand. It was already hard and leaking and you wasted no time in shoving him inside your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Rhys praised. “Ride us, darling. Be a good, needy girl for us.”

“Our good, naughty little whore.” Cassian purred, choking when you took him down to the base.

“Or just our whore.” Azriel growled as he smacked your ass, watching the recoil. “A whore we can use and abuse whenever we want.”

Their words filled your veins until you felt as if you were about to burst. You could feel a fourth orgasm coming, could feel the now painful clenching of your cunt, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had enough mind to pull away from Cassian’s cock before you let out a blood-curdling scream, your body collapsing on Rhys’s chest as you squirted all over them.

All at once, together, they also found their releases and followed you with reckless abandon. The sheets were soaked, as were the rest of you, as Azriel came in your ass, Rhys came in your cunt, and Cassian came over your back. You felt like you were leaking cum from every opening you had and you loved it.

You struggled to catch your breath as they all fell into bed beside you and Rhys, the smell of sex and cum permeating the room. Rhys’s soft hand stroked up and down your back lovingly while Cass and Az whispered praises. It was slow coming back down to Earth, to the three men who you had just slept with, and you realized that you never wanted to leave the room. Never wanted to leave them.

After a few minutes, you hear rustling before Azriel stands up and asks if anyone wants to shower, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when you sat up sleepily and said, “Second round in the shower?”

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daenyzz · 4 months ago

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Blood ties become deep love

Summary: In which Daemon convinces his wife, Rhaenyra, that he will be the best option for their only daughter, and at the wedding, he promises to protect her from all dangers, and that is what he did, and even died doing so.

Triggers: Death in childbirth and combat, suggestive sexual content, incest (father and daughter), and typical Asoiaf content.

In 129 years after the Conquest, the Targaryens were at the height of their power, but rumors of war threatened to break out like a storm. A battle for the throne was imminent, and alliances were as volatile as the flames that dragons breathed. At the heart of this turmoil was (Y/N), the sweet and kind daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen, a young woman whose beauty was as stunning as that of her silver dragon, Silverwing.

(Y/N) was known throughout the continent as the Fairest Maiden of the Seven Kingdoms. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, framing her angelic face. Her deep violet eyes looked like two pools of amethyst. She was a rider of Silverwing, the magnificent female dragon with silver scales that reflected the daylight like a mirror.

The young woman lived in Dragonstone, where her mother, Rhaenyra, gathered her supporters to claim her right to the Iron Throne. Tensions between the houses were growing, and (Y/N) felt that, sooner or later, the weight of destiny would fall on her shoulders. Despite her youth, she understood the importance of her position and the role she would play in the battle to secure her mother's legacy.

One morning, while (Y/N) was tending to Silverwing in the Dragonpit of the Dragonstone after an aerial tour, her mother appeared at her side.

Rhaenyra had a serious and determined expression. “(Y/N), my dear, we need to talk,” Rhaenyra said, urgency dripping from every word.The young woman turned to face her mother, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

“About what, mother?”Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment before continuing. “About you and Daemon.”

(Y/N) could feel her heart racing. Daemon Targaryen was her father and also known as the Rogue Prince, a man who aroused both admiration and fear in everyone around him. He was a fearless and charismatic warrior, but also someone whose passions could be dangerous.

“I have decided that you shall be married to him,” Rhaenyra announced, quickly and curtly. (Y/N) was stunned by the information, expecting everything but that.

“But mom! He’s my father! How can I marry him?” (Y/N) knew, of course, that consanguineous marriage is a common practice in her family, she herself being the product of his blood, but the girl didn’t expect to get married so young.

Rhaenyra held her daughter’s hands, looking into her eyes intently. “I know this is hard to understand, but these are dark times. The union between you two will strengthen our position against the Greens and other adversaries.” Rhaenyra tried to dissuade her daughter.

The young woman felt the pressure of her mother’s words weighing down on her. Family love was complex; the idea of marrying Daemon seemed both a sacrifice and an opportunity to join forces in turbulent times.

“What if I don’t want to?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking, though she tried to hide it.

“You have no choice,” Rhaenyra replied firmly, but her purple gaze did not meet her daughter’s amethyst. “We must secure our Targaryen line and protect the future of the realm.”

After that fateful day, (Y/N) struggled with her emotions as she prepared for the arranged marriage. The following weeks were filled with discussions of political alliances and military strategies, as well as preparations for the wedding, while war loomed like a threatening shadow.

The wedding day arrived faster than (Y/N) expected. The Targaryen Princess looked radiant in a gown adorned with gold details that reflected the colors of House Targaryen. Her silver hair was braided in two braids at the front and pulled together at the back, the rest of it hanging loosely at her back, while a delicate diadem gleamed in the torchlight in the throne room.

Daemon stood at the altar, his imposing presence dominating the space. He wore shining armor that highlighted his masculine, striking features; his lilac eyes fixed on (Y/N) as she entered the room.

Her heart raced as she met her father's intense gaze; there was something deeper there, an inexplicable connection between them that transcended normal family ties.

The ceremony continued under the watchful eyes of those present; every word exchanged seemed to carry significant weight. When they finally became husband and wife, (Y/N) felt a mix of emotions churn in her stomach—responsibility being the biggest of them all.After the ceremony, during the celebratory banquet in the castle’s main hall, Daemon approached her with an enigmatic smile on his lips.

“You look stunningly beautiful tonight, just as the blood of the dragon should be,” he said softly.

(Y/N) blushed under the compliment; her emotions were confused between admiration and awe. “Thank you… father.”

He leaned closer to her, his violet eyes reflecting the flames of the torches around them. “You know that this marriage is not just political? There is something more between us.”

(Y/N) held her breath at those words; the world around her seemed to disappear momentarily. “What do you mean?”

Daemon smiled slightly; there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I want to protect you above all else. And when the time comes for war… I will be by your side.”

His words lit a flame within her—not just for the protection he promised to offer, but for the raw emotion underlying their peculiar connection.

As the festivities continued around them, (Y/N) realized that their union had far more meaning than she had initially thought; it was not just a political alliance or a military strategy—it was also a form of deep love rooted in the complexities of Targaryen life.

In the days following their wedding, (Y/N) was taken to bed by Daemon every day, and every night, he said, (Y/N) must carry her brother in her womb so that another Targaryen might be born. Daemon taught his daughter not only the arts of pleasure, but also politics and strategy. The King Consort wanted (Y/N) to not only be a skilled dragon rider but also a strategist worthy of her House’s history. Together they flew the blue skies of Westeros; She felt the freedom on the dragon’s wings as Daemon led the way deftly through the clouds.

With each flight together, their hearts grew deeper together; there was something magical about the way they shared these moments under the vast, open sky—away from the political intrigues, the pressures of court…and her jealous mother.

However, as the days turned into weeks and tensions rose in the realm due to the impending civil war between the Blacks and the Greens, led by Aegon II and Alicent Hightower, new challenges arose to test not only their family ties but also their personal convictions.

Amidst the horrors of war: unexpected betrayals arose between former allies; friends became enemies in a matter of moments — testing not only their skills as a strategist but also their emotional strength in the face of the brutality of the struggle for power.

During a particularly dark night after an intense battle where many precious lives were lost: Daemon found (Y/N) alone in the Dragonpit where Silverwing remained calm despite the turmoil around them…

“I am sorry for the pain you are going through, our little one should not feel this,” he said softly as he caressed his daughter-wife’s small belly, where his seed germinated and began to grow.She looked up at him with tears in her delicate violet eyes: “Why must we fight against each other? Shouldn't we be together? Why do the usurpers insist on this fight?"

Daemon held her face gently between his hands: "This is our destiny, I fear...but I will do everything to protect you and our child growing within you!"

At the end of the Dance of the Dragons: Daemon died in the God's Eye, fighting against his nephew, Aemond. He did not fight for his first wife and her birthright, he fought for his daughter-wife and their unborn child; while (Y/N), died in labour, giving birth to a strong, silver boy, whose eyes were his mother's and his father's features. (Y/N) named the little baby Daemon II, in honor of the man who protected her from all harm.

In the past, Daemon desired the throne for himself and his lineage. And in the end, part of his plan came to fruition, as all of Rhaenyra's children were gone, with (Y/N) being the last to die, leaving little Daemon II first in line for the throne. Daemon may not have sat on the Iron Throne, but his son, Daemon II, who grew up to look exactly like his father, did and ruled for years.

Author's Notes: Hey guys! I'm still kind of a beginner, so please excuse the dialogue, I feel like it could have been better... I will continue to write, if you have an idea and want me to write it, I will be more than grateful.

#daemon targaryen x reader #asoiaf x reader #matt smith #matt smith x reader #daemon targeryan #fem reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Her

a/n just broadening my cheese thoughts. I freaking got hit by the love for my first mate. Had to revisit this red haired god.

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"My answer won't change", Eris spoke firmly. They had been at it for hours. The alliance with the night court was important, yes. But that didn't mean that Eris was thrilled to attend the meetings. "Eris, this is crucial", Rhys almost pleaded. It was nearly funny. How desperate the high lord was. How he had rushed to Autumn just to see him. "You said that already", Eris breathed, reaching to pour himself another glass of whiskey. "Yet I don't think you understand", the lord of the night court growled.

"Oh, I do", and Eris did. But this was a matter he was not willing to discuss. Her. They needed her. Her. They didn't even address her by her name. She was just her. And that in itself annoyed him. Eris had silently dared them to call out her name. To let it swirl off their tongues, but it never did. "You know I would not ask if this wasn't important", Rhys tried once again. Eris met his gaze before saying slowly, "No". "Drop it, Rhys. He's a selfish ass only looking for...", Azriel started to say, but Eris's hands came in contact with a table he was sitting behind. "Do you know what you're asking for, you bastard?", the fireling pointed a warning finger at the shadow singer.

Rhys was about to speak again. But without any announcement, the double doors opened. In strolled her. The room died down. The silence was so loud that it was almost unbearable. Dressed in the most beautiful deep green gown that left very little to the imagination. The material itself was almost desperate to cling to her porcelain-like skin. Lips painted deep plum red, dark features. Beatty, who no doubt could cause wars, made men drop to their knees. Give up their most valuable possessions. Just so they could pray at her feet.

And yet her gaze was on Eris. Overlooking everyone else's presence, no one else at this moment deserved her attention. Yet she knew that everyone was looking at her. The way her hips swayed as she walked. Her breasts shifted as she pulled her hair to one side. Whatever they talked about was long forgotten. "My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail now, didn't it?", she beamed at Eris sheepishly. Eris gripped his glass tightly, nearly smashing it. He was dissatisfied with her actions. She knew it. He was mad. And it was true; she could feel it, and smell it. Everyone now had their eyes on her.

"You suffocate me, woman", the fireling snarled through gritted teeth. She only smirked, pulling his glass from his hands and brushing the corner of the glass with her lips—that same corner that Eris's lips touched not long ago—as she muttered, "You ignite me, husband". No more words were shared after that. They were fighting a silent battle with their eyes for a while before she turned to the other three males in the room.

"Now, before this place goes up in flames", she purred, looking directly at the Illyrians. Rhys bowed his head, sinking. She watched him. "Sweet, but it won't make a difference", she said, motioning for him to stand up. Rhys met her eyes, and she knew. She knew that he, too, understood. Knew that Eris and her were a match like no other. She was a true goddess of death, while Eris summoned fire. They could build and ignite hell together. Set the world up in flames and keep it blazing for centuries if they only desired.

Hence, this union was a secret. Kept from prying eyes and ears. It was a cry for war if the word spread. Beron was the one who managed to steal her from the underworld. One who bound her and his son forever. She was nothing but a feral beast the first time Eris saw her. She nearly suffocated him while a priestess wed them. But then his pain met hers, and what bloomed from this union was not something a world so small could handle. Could understand.

If others knew of their marriage, no one knew what they were doing behind closed doors. They couldn't even come close to grasping the strength of the bond that now mated them together. They knew nothing about their first night as a married couple. Of how frightened she had been back then by the demands that Beron made. Eris had grasped her wrist, poking her finger with his fang to draw a tiny bit of blood before he let the blood fall onto the sheets, so the maides could gossip about it in the morning. They knew nothing of the nights she spent playing the piano in Eris's office while he worked or simply sat there admiring her. They knew nothing about the hunting trips they took that had nothing to do with hunting. How they would bring the whole forest to fall silent before it burst to life as both of their cries filled the air.

She stepped closer. It was thrilling to see things no one else could. To be able to grasp things others couldn't touch. She pulled at one of the Illyrian's souls, bringing it out of his body as it seized. The thrill of touching something that wasn't yet meant to die was exceptional. "You're playing", Eris's voice cut through her desire. "Oh, I would never", She turned to her husband, letting herself giggle. Eris shook his head but did nothing to stop her. He just swirled his whiskey in his glass. "Cruel, cruel creature, let go of him", he said, and she huffed, "No fun". The Illyrian inhaled sharply, his hand on his chest, as his big eyes watched her. Yet all she did was smile.

"I can bring that soul to you", she said bluntly, turning away from them. He stepped to stand next to Eris, his hand coming to lay for her naked back. "I...", Rhys stuttered, clearly taken back by her words. He tried to come up with something to say but failed miserably. "Surprised that I know why you're here?", she teased, "Nature requires balance. Two nights from now, we shall come to the ever-white lake. I'll summon his soul", she said so naturally that it seemed as if all of this wasn't surreal.

"Y/N, this means so much", Rhys said, bowing his head again. "Leave", Eris growled, "If I see you before that time, your dogs will be dragging you out of the lake", Eris barked. She pinched her husband's side gently. The two winged males stepped forward angrily, but Rhys quickly placed his hands on their chests. She nodded her head at the Lord of the Night Court. He returned her gesture before winnowing out of the fireling's office.

"I don't like this...", Eris muttered when it was just the two of them in the room. He pushed his armchair back slightly, guiding her to sit on his lap, his arms snaking around her middle. "You don't like many things, dear", she breathed, her fingers moving to brush through his red hair. "You putting yourself in danger is at the top of the list", he stated firmly, reaching for his glass once more. He was always like this. His desire to protect her was something he hadn't yet conquered.

"You don't own me", she purred, pressing her finger against his chest. He nodded, "I do not, but you are the love of my life, and I would rather watch the world crumble than let you hurt", his words were powerful. Ones that other lovers spoke sparingly. But Eris. Eris was not like other lovers. And she knew that his love ran deep for her. And what he said was true. Because nothing could keep them apart. Eris would not allow it. She would not allow it.

"It's just one soul", her voice was much softer now as she spoke. "One too many", Eris muttered, swallowing the sharp liquor. A tight frown on his face. She touched his sulking features. "Don't do this", she whispered. Eris said nothing. He interviewed their fingers together. Bringing their hands, which were marked by twin tattoos, closer to his chest, he kissed the top of her palm. "I would not survive if...", Eris breathed out, brows knitting together. She cupped his face and said, "Good for you, my husband, that I have no intention of dying". Her eyes met his, and Eris could feel all the love she poured into his heart.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you

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faeriichaii · 1 year ago

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There's just inches in between us ~ Thorin x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ok so I just am really obsessed with that one juicy part from the song shameless (I actually don't like the song I just literally listen to that one part on loop) and I immediately thought about Thorin so I guess that's his song now :p Also I literally never have written any kind of smut in my life before so this is totally new 😔😔 I really hope you guys like it!! And have fun 🥰

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Smut with plot (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Fingering Kinda enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kinda fluff?? ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 4.1k (oops lmao) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: No :) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Amrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You were the princess of another kingdom, meant to marry none other than the dwarven King Thorin from the lonely mountain. You rarely get the chance to talk to him and decide to visit him the night before the wedding, asking him to give you some attention.

The carriage, you were sitting in was rocking from side to side as you slowly approached your destination. Your hands holding tightly onto the dark green dress you were wearing. Gold details were stitched delicately on the upper half of the garment, making up swirls, as well as flowers. You tried to pretend to be listening to your father, who still was talking about your upcoming marriage. Arranged marriage. Your father set up an arranged marriage between your kingdom and Erebor. The thought of being wed to an unknown man made your stomach churn. “(Y/N) are you listening? This is very important for you to know and accept.” “My king, I apologize for my rudeness but I do not wish to hear anymore about this matter.” You were beyond upset and hurt about the decision your father, the king of Thuiniel, took without even your consent. It’s not like he needed consent. A warning would have been nice. Any kind of sign so you would have known that you will move away from home. So you would have known that you will no longer be a free woman and instead be the wife of another king. So you would have known that you will become a queen to an unknown kingdom.

Your fathers’ eyes mustered you sadly, understanding your attitude towards him. “(Y/N), I know you are hurt and I know you are mad at me, however you yourself know that it will be the best for the kingdom.” The kingdom. During the years, Thuiniel has seen and faced a major number of wars. Most of them went well for you, however nowadays the kingdom is in need of support from anyone they can get. Your two older sisters have been married for years to different parts of Middle-Earth, which resulted in an alliance between these three kingdoms. But even they can’t constantly send support towards Thuiniel. So your father decided to search for another alliance that can give him the resources he needs. And this resulted in you receiving the news just a week prior to the wedding.

A sigh left your lips as you looked out of the small window in the carriage. Trees were lining the path you were traveling on. Your gaze settled on the palace that was built deep into the mountain. “Do you know any important information about Erebor?” You asked your father, eyes still locked on your destination. Normally you would have looked into various books and scrolls in your library before travelling to another kingdom, but the news of your marriage shocked you so immensely, that you already despised everything that had anything to do with it. “Erebor is known for their massive mine, as well as the various jewels and gold they keep deep inside of the mountain.” A hum left your lips as you tried to remember the words you father continued to spill about your future kingdom.

A sudden jolt of the carriage made you realize that you just arrived at your destination. The wooden door opened as a hand was held inside. Your father stood up, took the hand and left you alone in the carriage. You took a deep breath before following your father out of the small compartment. Once outside, you looked around at the trees and the nature surrounding the palace, before focusing on your future home. Home. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue. “King Thorin Oakenshield, it is very nice to make your acquaintance.” Your father said, before bowing down in front of a dwarf. “Let me introduce you to my lovely daughter, princess (Y/N). Your soon-to-be-wife.” Thorin looked at you before giving you a short nod. You bit your tongue, in order to not snap at his attitude towards you. Taking the material of your dress in your hand, you curtsied and whispered a soft ‘It is nice to make your acquaintance’ towards the king.

After the short introduction, you were shown around the castle as well as parts of the mine underground. The king however was not in attendance. Night approached quickly and you excused yourself after dinner to finally get some alone time in your chambers. On your way you stumbled upon the library of Erebor. Deciding to take a peek, you opened the door. Books and scrolls were lining the shelves of the room. A dwarf was in front of one of the shelves, his attention now on you instead of the book in his hands. “You must be our future queen. Welcome to the palace’s library.” He bowed down in front of you. “My name is Balin, how can I help you?” “Please just call me (Y/N). You smiled softly at the nice man. “I was wondering if you have any good books about Erebor? I should have informed myself about the kingdom before my arrival but I had… difficulties.” “Of course (Y/N). Let’s see…” He was walking around the room, taking the ladder attached to the shelf with him. “Ah this should be a good start.” His hands grabbed a thick leather-bound book that has the words ‘History of the lonely Mountain’ in gold etched into it. Taking it in your own hand you thanked him, before leaving and trying to find your chambers once more.

A yawn left your lips as you quietly ate your breakfast. You have read a little more than you would like to admit and totally forgot the time yesterday night. The history written down in the book completely captivating you. Your gaze fell from your father to the other few people who were chatting happily with each other, until your eyes stopped at the man who sat on your right. Your soon-to-be-husband. His hair was braided on each side of his face. You remember reading about some of the customs of dwarven culture and how important their hair (beard included) is to them. You take a sip of the tea that was specifically prepared for you, trying to stifle another yawn.

“Have you not slept enough?” Thorin asks from beside you his voice a slight hint of irritation. Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance at his question. “My apologies my king, I lost track of the time yesterday.” “What have you been reading?” Cutting into the eggs that were served in front of you, you took a big bite. “I have been reading about the History of Erebor. As a future Queen I would like to learn as much about my kingdom as I can.” “How come you did not study about the kingdom before your arrival?” Setting down your cutlery, you looked at him with annoyance. One of his eyebrows was raised as he waited for your answer. Was he mocking you? “I did not have enough time to remember all the details from Erebor. Especially because a certain someone wished for the marriage to happen as soon as possible.” Your father had told you that normally you would have a few months in advance to get to know your husband and roughly around a year for the marriage. However, Thorin apparently requested that the marriage happens as soon as possible, which resulted in the date being set in a month from now on. After hearing the news, you didn’t just simply dislike your husband but despised him. You still were mad at your father after he told you this new information yesterday, however your hate now mostly lay on Thorins shoulders.

The entire table was quiet as the air went heavy around the two of you. “The reason behind the date being set in a month is to ensure the safety of Thuiniel. Another war could be right around the corner and I would not wish to risk another empire be taken over by Orcs while I am getting married.” Anger flickered in his gaze. You continue eating your breakfast, not wanting to fuel the fire by arguing against the king. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally left the dinner room behind you, followed by your father. “(Y/N) we urgently need to talk.” He takes your arm and pulls you into his chambers. “Have you lost your mind?!” He angrily exclaims, flailing his arms around while walking up and down. “Father, I apologize but he just-“ “No! (Y/N) take a moment to think about your actions! Erebor was the best candidate for an alliance with our kingdom. This alliance can ensure the safety for several decades! You, arguing with the king, could result in him not being interested in the marriage anymore and Thuiniel falling into the hands of Orcs!” You bit down on your lip, as your head was lowered in shame. Your eyes focused on your shoes as you listened to your father’s rant.

He takes a deep breath, before walking towards you and taking your arms gently in his hands. “I know you are hurt and scared, but please please think about the wellbeing of Thuiniel.” A sigh left your lips. “I will father.” With that you left his chambers. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you searched the library, in order to take a good book with you and get your mind off of things. Upon entering the room, you could see Thorins back facing the door. Oh no. “Have you already found the scrolls Balin?” He asked, not looking up from the papers in his hands. You shifted from one foot to another as you decided if you should leave or stay. “I apologize my king, but I am not Balin. Listening to your voice, his eyes snapped up from the papers towards you. “How can I help you princess?” Biting down on your lip you thought a moment about what you should say in order to save the little chemistry you should have as the future royal couple. “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour earlier.” At that, Thorin lay his papers down, intently listening on what else you had to say. “I shouldn’t have reacted this way but neither did I expect a wedding announcement last week. I couldn’t prepare myself, neither did I get a proper chance on finding out who I am about to marry. It is a lot that suddenly falls on top of me and so many more things are piling up without a chance to properly think about anything to be honest.” You looked at the dwarf, who started to approach you. His gaze was locked on your eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. “One month will be enough time to get your head sorted through and get used to living in Erebor. We will get to know each other on the way there and you will learn how to be a queen.” He said, trying to reassure you. Gently, he takes your hand in his. Turning your palm upwards, he places something on top, before closing your fingers around it. “I also took the liberty of reading into your kingdom, Thuiniel, and the few customs you have. This is also the reason as to why I wanted the wedding to happen in a month. Your kingdom is in dire need of a strong alliance due to the wars that happened one after another and I can be of help. I never want to witness other kingdoms defeat due to an army of Orcs.” You blinked at the man in front of you, not exactly knowing how to respond to him. A smile stretched over your lips. “Thank you so much Thorin.” You left afterwards, heading towards your chambers. Opening your palm, you saw a small golden ring in your hand. Taking it between your fingers, you took a careful look of it. A green gem was present in the middle. Gold flowers were etched into each side of the gem, while a small diamond sat atop of the green one. The ring almost looked like a golden crown. Putting it on your ring finger you smiled softly. Maybe there was some hope.

The weeks passed in a storm and you got quite accustomed to living in Erebor. During your stay, you also got to know Thorins’ nephews Fili and Kili. Most of your time was spent with them, while they tell you all about how they got to win Erebor back with their uncle and several other dwarves. Balin also gave you some lessons on important things and events to know about Erebor as well as the dwarven culture. He emphasized on the fact that you have to offer Thorin a bead and braid a strand of his hair. “It will signify that he is a married dwarf and found his One.” He once said. One. It has been stuck in your mind for the past week. You wouldn’t call yourself his One. You haven’t even really gotten the chance to get to know him like he told you, so even if you were his One, you wouldn’t know. You did meet him more often than before however; the conversation was always kept to a minimum. The fact that he still is a mysterious man to you makes your heart twist painfully. You even knew Kilis and Filis entire live story by heart after just a week and can barely remember that he is also called Thorin Oakenshield? Unacceptable. And this is the sole reason as to why you are approaching his chambers after another uneventful day of you two only communicating for roughly ten minutes. Sitting on a chair by his desk, he raised an eyebrow at your intrusion.

“I thought I told you that if you needed anything, you can always ask Balin.” A sigh left your lips, as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. “Well Balin is not you now, is he?” Your arms were folded in front of you, gaze never leaving the king. “Listen Thorin, I have had enough. We barely talk with each other and I still only know your name. I don’t know anything about you and it annoys me. We are supposed to get married tomorrow and the only conversations we held was about sleep and our schedule of the day.” An exasperated sigh left his lips. “(Y/N) I really can’t deal with this or with you right now.” “Excuse me?” One of your eyebrows was raised as the words Thorin just muttered reverberate in your head. Anger slowly started to build up inside of you at his uncalled attitude.

“I think one month should have been enough time to get your head sorted through.” You spat at him. His eyes squint together, ready to say more but you cut him off. “You can’t constantly keep pushing me away. We have to share a lifetime together, if you want to or not. Just because you constantly find excuses to leave me behind and continue to do whatever else doesn’t mean-“ “Whatever else? I am trying to safe your kingdom! Your home!” “This is my home!” You yelled at him, face slightly tinted red. Even if you only have been in Erebor for roughly a month, you already accepted and loved it like it was your home. Which it was. “I love Thuiniel, but it is no longer my home. My father sent me here to marry you and get used to living in Erebor. Thuiniel is not as helpless as you make it out to be. My brother is the one in charge while my father is still here, waiting for the marriage to be fulfilled. My brother is capable of taking care of it and even if he needs help, we have other alliances and not just Erebor.” You take a breath to calm yourself down. “As a king you should not just take care of the kingdom but also of the people surrounding you. And for the time being I must admit, you are a bad king to me.” Thorin approaches you with a few quick strides. His hands lowered on each side of your thighs as he leaned into your personal space. “You dare to call me a bad king? Just because I don’t give you the attention you so desperately need?” His hot breath made your cheeks warm up. Eyes wide you stare into his blue ones, that shine with an unknown fire. You were about to say something, however the lump in your throat prevented you from muttering anything.

“You want attention princess? You shall get it.” His hand moved towards your face, pulling you towards his lips. Shocked at the sudden movement you gasped softly. Thorin took this as an invitation and deepened the kiss. You slowly started to relax into his arms, as you wrapped your hands around his neck. Your mind still was a jumbled mess, however your body was in dire need of his touch as well as his warmth.

Untangling your arms from his neck, you moved up the bed, towards the headboard. Thorin followed you, never once breaking the kiss. His warm hand travelling toward your neck, while his other hand grasped onto your thigh. He somehow managed to position himself between your legs. Breaking apart from the kiss, the both of you had to catch your breath, red cheeks and eyes glazed over with a burning passion. “How much of my attention do you want?” Thorin asked, voice slightly deeper than normal. “I wish to have all of it.” Your hand gently held the side of his face, thumb stroking his rosy cheek. Eyes flitting from his eyes to his lips, you leaned towards him, pulling him into another passionate kiss. Tongues were entangling into each other while your fingers played with the strands of his hair. He moved from your lips across your face, towards your neck. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt his teeth sink into the skin beneath your jaw, marking you. His big hands travelled from your waist to your dressed boobs. Moving his head from your neck, he looked at your dress. “Turn around Amrâlimé. So I can undo your dress.” He quickly moved aside, as you turned around and let him unravel the corset. His fingers brushed against your back as you wished they would continue to travel along your body. “Stand up.” He ordered and you willingly complied. The sleeves of the dress travelled down, as the bodice slowly also moved to the floor, until you were only left in your panties.

“My beautiful queen.” He stood up from the bed and pulled you in by your waist. Your hands desperately grasping onto his neck, as he sat down on the plush mattress, making you straddle him. You felt his hard cock rub against the inside of your thigh. A soft moan escaped your lips. You wanted him. You needed him. Thorins hands slowly moved towards your breasts. Taking your nipples between his fingers he rolled them around. You leaned into his touch as you held onto his shoulders for some stability. Pants left your lips as you decided to grind on his cock, desperate for any kind of friction. Thorin let out a grunt, focussing on your left nipple with his left hand, while his lips rapped around the right one. A moan leaving your lips as his tongue flicked over it. After a few seconds he switched sides. The fingers of his right hand left a ghostly trail behind as they moved towards your awaiting core. Pushing your panties aside, his fingers moved through your wet folds.

A chuckle left his lips. “You really love my attention, don’t you?” The only thing you could do was nod, as he drew soft circles on your clit, making you immediately stop your grinding on his clothed dick. “I need a verbal response my queen.” He stopped moving his fingers around, making you whine at the loss. “Yes. Please.” A smirk was present on his lips as he left gentle kisses on your jaw. “Please what?” He teased as he continued to rub small circles. “Thorin I want you. I want your attention please.” As soon as these words left your lips you were thrown on the bed. Your legs were parted as Thorin began to undress himself. You watched his fingers work to undo the buttons of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Sitting up you let your hands travel from his broad shoulders, over his hairy chest and down his abs until they arrived at the happy trail that led to his hard cock. You slowly undid the button on his pants, before pulling them down together with his underwear. His dick sprung free. He was thick and hard, some precum already leaking from his tip. You carefully wrapped your hand around him, making him sigh contentedly at your touch. He felt warm and heavy around your fingers. You couldn’t even close your hand properly at his thickness. Moving your hand up and down slowly you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“My king, do you crave my attention as much as I crave yours?” You asked him, sweetly tilting your head to the side still holding onto him. “Yes. Yes I do Amrâlimé.” His hands grasped your shoulders, as he pushed you down on the matress. He spread your legs further apart, before taking off your panties and stepping between your legs. Goosebumps spread across your arms as your wet cunt was hit by the cold air. Thorins fingers immediately worked towards your core. You moaned as he let one of his fingers enter you. He pumped his digit inside you a few times before adding another finger. Your hands held onto his biceps as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. His lips were on yours as he swallowed your desperate and high-pitched moans. The heat in your lower stomach made your toes curl as you slowly felt the familiar sensation approach. Suddenly it all was gone as Thorin pulled his fingers from you. You pouted at him sadly. “I want you to cum on my dick, not on my fingers.” He said, taking his dick in his hands and moving the tip between your folds. “Thorin.” You gasped as he made contact with your swollen clit. “Please.” You begged him. “What do you want my queen?”

His hands were holding you down by the waist, stopping you from moving around anymore. “I want you inside of me please. I want to feel you.” With that, Thorin lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Slowly he pushed inside. Your walls tightened around him making him groan out. A gasp escaped your lips at the slight burning sensation of the stretch inside you. He was big and you really felt it. Your hands held him close by his back, as he started to move inside you. Your spongey walls welcoming him in with every thrust he does. Your moans, mixed with his own grunts, echoed from the walls of his chambers. Each thrust made you feel closer to him and closer to heaven. His lips were on yours again, swallowing each sound you make. Warmth spread through your whole body as you felt the knot tighten in your lower regions. Thorin grabbed your thighs and bend them towards your shoulders. Loud moans escaped your lips at the new angle. His cock throbbing inside of you while your walls tightened around him. You knew you were close and so did he. Hence his finger moved toward your swollen clit. “Cum for me my queen. Cum on my dick.” You gasped at his words. The knot in your lower region came undone as you felt the bliss of your orgasm wash over you. Your nails still digging into Thorins back as he increased the speed of his thrusts until you felt his dick twitch before his warm cum filled you up.

After a few moments of still moving inside you he pulled out, making his cum drip out of your hole. He used his thumb to push his cum back into you. You moved your body properly on the bed, before hiding under the covers. Blush still visible. A chuckle left Thorins lips as he joined you under the covers. “This isn’t exactly what I meant earlier.” You mumbled, face still hidden partly by the blanket. He softly put a strand behind your ear, letting his hand stroke your cheek gently. “I promise you, we will have plenty of time to get to know each other. We will learn to love each other and I certainly will learn to give you the attention you need and deserve Amrâlimé.” He planted a soft kiss on your forehead. Maybe the both of you really have the potential to be the missing puzzle pieces for each other. The Ones you need.

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darknight3904 · 7 months ago

Text

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is 18, Aemond 17

132 AC

"You are acting like a child."

His mother's words fall on deaf ears.

"It is not fair. Fat Lord Tyrell's son does not deserve her." Aemond seethes

"She is heir to Runestone, she needs to take command and have her own family, Aemond. Did you think that your father and I were going to let her flit about the castle with you? Reading books and flying off to the lake in the Kingswood to swim?" His mother asks as if the answer was plain as day.

"Bethrothe her to me. We will strengthen our bloodline." Aemond says staring at his mother

"Aegon and Heleana are strengthening the bloodline. You and Daeron will secure alliances when you are married." Alicent sighs and rubs her forehead, like he is asking an impossible feat.

"Fuck alliances," Aemond says

Alicent looks at him, and Aemond is unsure if it is a look of pity or anger.

"You will forget about her. It will take time, but you will. Happiness can be found in all places." She says, trying to assure him of his future.

"Is that what you and father have? Happiness?" He mocks

"Your father and I are friends. Something that is important in a marriage." She says

"Rhaella and I are friends!" He cries

"You can make more friends." Alicent dismisses

"I don't want more friends. I don't want some lords's daughter to be wed to. Engage me to Rhaella mother. You will not regret it." He says, determined.

"No. What's done is done. She will leave for Highgarden in a fortnight." Alicent says, "Now go, I'm sure you have training with Cole."

Aemond storms out of his mother's chamber, unwilling to accept what was occurring. Surely his father hadn't conceded to this after all Viserys spent all day in bed now riddled by milk of the poppy. His mother had to be pulling the strings behind all this.

He finds his legs taking him towards Heleana's chamber. Fuck Cole and his training, that could all wait.

He could hear Rhaella's musical laugh as he got closer. She is entertaining the twins and Maelor with some fairytales of Wrights and the brave men of the Night's Watch. He pushes the door open just enough to peek inside. Rhaella sits on the floor surrounded by his niece ad nephews who laugh when she mimics the flight of a dragon with her hands. Heleana smiles, a rarity, as she looks up from whatever bug she's holding.

How could his mother send Rhaella off? She was an integral part of their family. Even Aegon was not so bad to her. Save for his rather explicit comments when Rhaella was not listening...

He couldn't believe he was going to have to let her go. Let her fly off to Highgarden and those stupid golden roses.

"Brother." Heleana greets, spying him lurking in the hall

"Sister, Nephews, Niece." He greets as he enters and sits down on a small stool, "Rhaella."

"Aemond."

Rhaella looks up at him, her face is joyful but her eyes are sad. Perhaps she is here distracting herself with the youngest Targaryens to pretend she is not being forced to leave.

"I thought you had training with Cole." Heleana said

"I do. I'm...finding myself rather bored with him these days. All he speaks of is tourneys. I want real combat." He admits, too proud to say he missed Rhaella.

"Is it not better to not have to fight? It means the realm is at peace." Rhaella says

"I suppose so. I want the experience though." He says

Rhaella lets out a small hum and then reaches to help Maelor with his wooden blocks.

"Shall we build a tower?" She asks him

Maelor, who can't speak yet nods and smiles. He babbles what sounds like a yes and picks up a red block to hand to Rhaella.

Aemond is fully focused on Rhaella. HIs heart squeezes as he watches her laugh and help the baby build. He never wanted to share that laugh with another. Every smile she gives, every laugh, the crinkle in her eyes when she smiles, he wants it all. Rhaella is consuming every fibre of his being and he hopes it is the same for her. He has seen her eyes on him every day, how she watches closely if he rolls his sleeves up during a hot day of training. He swears he saw her even lick her lips once.

Aemond wants Rhaella. He wants to keep her with him forever. No other perfumed lord should even look in her direction as far as he is concerned. He wanted to curl up beside Rhaella the way they did when they were younger at the lake. He'd rest his head on her chest and listen to the steady beat of her heart.

Fuck. He was losing his mind.

Aemond is officially the definition of down bad. Get him a mega simp shirt or something.

Super short part. My trip is going well. Hope you enjoyed it. We are going to be going back to the main plot soon so strap in!

Next Part

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elryuse · 3 months ago

Note

To celebrate the release of part 1 of your Hierarchy series how about a fic about Yoon He-ra in where the readers family decides to help her out when her family was in debt, but the readers family made a condition in where the Reader and He-ra would be in an arranged marriage

A NEW BEGINNING

YOON HERA X MALE READER

The rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm raging within Yoon He-ra's heart. Her family, once a beacon of hope, was now drowning in a sea of debt. The weight of their financial burden pressed down on her shoulders, a heavy, suffocating force.

A flicker of hope ignited when an unexpected offer arrived. The wealthy Kim family, particularly their son, Y/n, had extended a helping hand. Their generosity was overwhelming, but it came with a steep price.

The Kims' ultimatum was clear: an arranged marriage between He-ra and Y/n. It was a cold, calculated move, a strategic alliance to secure their interests. He-ra, a mere pawn in their grand scheme, was forced to accept her fate.

As the wedding day approached, He-ra found herself increasingly isolated. Her friends, once a source of comfort and support, began to distance themselves. The harsh truth was that they were uncomfortable with her newfound status as a future heiress, a position they couldn't relate to.

In the midst of this social upheaval, only one friend remained steadfast: Jae-i. She had always been different, a true friend who saw beyond the superficial. She understood the weight of He-ra's burden, the sacrifices she was making for her family.

"You don't have to do this, He-ra," Jae-i said, her voice filled with concern. "You deserve better."

He-ra, her heart heavy, shook her head. "I-i have no choice, Jaei-ah" she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As the wedding day approached, He-ra couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. She was marrying a stranger, a man she barely knew. What would their life together be like? Would they be able to connect on a deeper level, or would they remain mere acquaintances bound by a contract?

On the day of the wedding, He-ra finally met Y/n. To her surprise, he was nothing like the cold, calculating figure she had imagined. Instead, he was kind, gentle, and surprisingly understanding. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being and made a conscious effort to make her feel comfortable.

As they spent more time together, He-ra began to question her initial assumptions. Perhaps this arranged marriage wasn't as terrible as she had feared. Maybe there was hope for a future filled with love and happiness.

As she prepared to start a new life with Y/n, He-ra couldn't help but wonder how their relationship would evolve. Would they be able to overcome the challenges of an arranged marriage and build a genuine connection? Only time would tell.

The night was still young, the moon casting an ethereal glow over the city. He-ra and Y/n sat on a secluded bench in the park, the soft rustling of leaves providing a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

"So, Y/n," He-ra began, her voice barely a whisper, "what do you expect from this marriage?"

Y/n turned to her, his gaze soft and tender. "I simply want to spend my life with you, He-ra," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to care for you, to protect you, and to love you unconditionally."

He-ra's heart skipped a beat. His words, simple yet profound, touched her in a way she hadn't expected. She had been so caught up in the complexities of their situation that she had forgotten the most important thing: the human connection.

"But... but what about the family expectations?" she stammered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "The pressure, the obligations..."

Y/n took her hand in his, his touch warm and comforting. "We'll face those challenges together," he assured her. "We'll create our own happiness, regardless of what others expect."

He-ra's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. Yet, there was a strange sense of peace that washed over her. Perhaps this arranged marriage wasn't so bad after all.

As they sat there, lost in each other's gaze, a spark ignited between them. It was a spark of hope, a spark of love, a spark that could ignite a beautiful future.

The limousine glided smoothly through the city streets, the soft hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop to the intimate moment unfolding within. He-ra and Y/n sat side by side, their fingers intertwined.

As they drew closer to Jooshin High, Y/n's hand, bold and confident, slid across the seat and gently rested on He-ra's thigh. A shiver ran through her, a mix of surprise and anticipation. His touch, soft and tender, sent a wave of warmth through her body. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement.

When they arrived at the school, Y/n leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Have a good day, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

He-ra, her cheeks flushed, nodded silently. As she watched him walk away, she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging, a sense of security.

At school, He-ra immediately became the center of attention. Whispers and curious glances followed her every move. It was as if she had become a celebrity overnight. Some students were envious, others were simply amazed.

Jae-i, noticing the unwanted attention, approached He-ra. "Don't mind them," she said, her voice firm. "They're just jealous."

He-ra smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Jae-i. You're a lifesaver."

With Jae-i by her side, He-ra was able to navigate the day with relative ease. Together, they faced the curious stares, the snide remarks, and the hushed conversations. And together, they emerged victorious.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, He-ra gathered her belongings and prepared to leave. Just as she was about to step out of the classroom, she felt a familiar presence behind her.

"He-ra," Y/n's voice, soft and gentle, broke the silence. "Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me?"

He-ra's heart skipped a beat. She glanced at him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. His warm smile and inviting eyes made it impossible to refuse.

"Sure," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

As they walked together, the other students couldn't help but stare. They were an unexpected pair, a match made in an unlikely heaven. But as they watched the way Y/n looked at He-ra, filled with affection and adoration, they began to understand.

Perhaps love, like fate, could surprise even the most cynical of hearts.

- To Be Continued -

#x male reader #beautiful #update #hierarchy drama #hierarchy #kdrama #k drama #yoon hera #ji hyewon #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #fluff stuff

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deleteddewewted · 1 month ago

Note

I don't know if this might be an idea for you, but...

I'm still getting to know the Warhammer universe in depth, but I started a draft a while ago. It was supposed to be an oneshot, but it became huge and I ended up putting it aside because I lacked creativity.

But anyway : I had started that the emperor wasn't such an idiot, he sort of had some feelings for his children (not looking at them as tools) and in order for humanity to prevail he sort of goes from world to world looking for political alliances (so he marries his son and takes a planet for himself). Horus would fall into chaos because the one chosen him, in the vision of a shaman, she was the future with Guilliman after the fall of the emperor and also the OC had an enormous love for Guilliman (a beautiful feeling), but Roboute had a relationship with Yvraine, even if the emperor didn't approve.

The OC would be a witch/wizard (I don't know if she fits in this universe without being killed for heresy, or if they'll let it go because... script 😬 )

I'm still figuring out how to develop it or whether to delete it and start another way, what do you think?

It's a lot of information, you can ignore it 🙃

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my language .

Preventing Destiny

Horus x Fem! Reader

A/n: This is such a good idea! I hope you post it someday. This inspired something in me and now i have to make a series similar your idea anon. Consider this part 1 out of 2 or 3 parts.

MDNI

W: NSFW, Fluff, Angst, Jealousy, Baby Trapping, Abandonment, Pre-Heresy Horus, Fem Reader, Insecurities, Zero accommodation

If you want to buy me a Ko-fi

Love was such a finicky thing. It drove mortal men to madness, created wars in the battle of ideals, made orphans out of children, and made men into beasts. Horus watched as their crusade brought great benefit to the Imperium, one by one uniting the human colonies under the same flag and set of ideals Horus' father sought to make true. But war was not the only thing that united them all, no, unions and treaties did as well. His father bestowed upon him an offer he couldn't reject. Marriage in holy union over sought by the Emperor himself. His father told him of his adventures into the stars, how in his own search he had found an idealic planet with idealic people. That he had found a woman worthy of his son and his glory. Horus' ego grew as he awaited the day he would be introduced to you.

You met on your home planet. Your parents had agreed to follow the lead of the Emperor as long as he allowed them to continue to rule with his guidance. This was agreed upon but with a condition that left your parents speechless. The man adorned in golden armor mentioned a son of his, one that will one day become his heir to all that he had made. He wanted you to wed, to show that there is no ill will between your planet and the greater Imperium. Your parents eagerly waited with bated breath for your response, and when you agreed, the Emperor smiled down at you and promised you that this would bring great fortune to everyone. You met Horus not a day later. He was brought to your chambers and he had the opportunity to introduce himself to you. His hair was short and he had a faint stuble growing in. He looked rugged and handsome all the same and it lit a flame in your chest that you wished would persist.

Horus on the other hand was smitten even before meeting you. His father had described you after he insisted on knowing who his wife would be. His father described you as being a normal baseline, with nothing of importance other than your ancestry and the planet you bring with you, but Horus wanted more. He wanted details about your features, the way your voice sounded, he wanted to know if you were as eager as him to marry and to meet. He was like a child shaking in anticipation. He needed to know who you were as you would one day be his and he only yours. He begged his father to allow you both to meet on your planet as you make you more comfortable. Meeting in your chambers allowed him to truly grasp who you were as a person. You had a love for all things relating to your people, you adored your parents and you were educated in the law. You cared to learn more about the Imperium to better fulfill your duties as his wife.

"There's no need to push yourself so much, my wife." He had grabbed your hand in his, yours being dwarfed by his, and pressed the back of it to his lips in a chaste kiss.

"I will ensure you to date with everything but you do not need to worry about it. You will have greater things to do when it comes our Legion and our sons."

"Our sons?" You questioned, brow raised as you looked at the man before you.

"Yes, our sons. My Legion awaits for their mother. And if you will allow it, our own sons and daughters.” He had placed a kiss on your hand before pressing it against his cheek. He knew that you were the only woman for him. His eyes would never wonder, his love would never fade. You made him feel like a man and he would fulfill you as a woman.

Married life was blissful to him as his wife dotted on him hand and foot, and he would do the same. He would come back to his chambers only find her reading or sleeping and the moment his presence was made known she would drop everything to take care of him. You would take care of his wounds, ensure he was clean from head to toe by preparing him a bath. You devoted yourself to proving that you were an idealic wife only to be reminded that he had his own needs to prove himself a worthy husband. He would massage your feet and take care of you when sick. He would have the servants in the palace fetch you whatever you so desire. Only the finest food would be reserved for you. Only the best gifts would be given to you. Nothing would prevent him from sending you letters that were filled with promises of coming back and making you both complete with a child. He couldn’t have asked for a more dutiful partner that matched him.

But it all came crashing down when a shaman they had captured asked him if he wanted to see fate, to witness his future as it was already set. Horus had assumed that the old hag had simply done this to stop them from killing her but he was corrected when they did not flinch at the tip of his sword cutting into their skin. He agreed, curiosity getting the best of him. The shaman mixed powders, and liquids into a ranging flame and chanted words he did not know nor understood. In the smoke appeared your image but Horus was not the one standing next to you. Guilliman was there instead. You were kissing Guilliman, deeper and more lovingly than you’ve ever kissed him. You spoke his brother's name with breathless want unlike how you spoke his own. You were as dotting and as diligent as how you were with Horus but you looked more in love with his damn brother. Image after image of you and his blond-haired brother kissing and living in married bliss set a fire inside him he tried to quell and snuff, but it consumed him. It ate at him as the shaman prophesied that it was only a matter of time before this woman Horus wedded would leave him and fall in love with Guilliman. That if he wanted to preserve his marriage he had to keep you apart and even then it wouldn’t be guaranteed that you would remain faithful. That destiny and fate were never wrong and that no matter his efforts you would leave.

Horus laughed at the shaman in something that almost felt bitter as he promised that his wife was faithful and only had room to love him. But he knew deep down that he was lying to himself and he simply couldn’t have this hag have him bested. Either a swift movement he cut off her head and watched it roll onto the floor as her body slumped forward into the flame. Blood pooled around the corpse and dripped from his sword.

“You are wrong old witch. She is mine. She was promised to me!” He let out in a bitter rage. He walked away, not bothering to take any kind of trophy from his spoils and made it back to his ship with the rest of his sons. He told them to take off a she’s snack to Terra, that they were done here and that there was nothing of value on this planet but only lies and decit.

Once home, he arrived with a new fond vigor and let it all out on you. He smelled of sweat and musk, something manly and oddly attractive. He didn’t bother removing most of his armor but just enough so he could fuck you and have you near to his skin. He watched you pant and moan into the air as he grunted out promises to make you a mother. There was nothing that would take you from him. Nothing.

His father grew unpleased with Horus' petulant attitude. He was acting like a child with how he wouldn't introduce his wife to his brothers. He had promised you to introduce you to all of his brothers, that he would have you known to the galaxy and beyond as his wife and now he was planning on retracting that promise. What if you did leave him for his brother? Why were prophecized to be with Guilliman and not him? Anger consumed his thoughts but he quelled them as he promised his father that he would introduce you soon.

Horus spent an entire day with you, more than he had ever been allotted to spend with you since he was constantly busy, and asked you if you wished to meet his brothers soon. You said yes, happy to finally meet the rest of his family as you had only briefly met the Emperor and that was all. Even your wedding my was a private affair with only your parents and the Emperor to bear witness. To finally meet your husbands siblings meant a great deal to you as you had nine to your own and was desperate to find family.

So began his great plan to keep you faithful and longing for him as the date came ever closer for you to meet his brothers. He promised you riches, promised you children that he didn’t even know if he could give you, granted you every wish you had so you wouldn’t seek it from someone else. All of the nights he had available where spent keeping you in bed with him, cock warning him or him tasting your cunt hoping you would appreciate his careful and attentive care to your needs. He spent his morning showering you in compliments and promising you that he will return to you.

All of this was for not when he finally had to comply and introduce you to his brothers. His father had arranged a small event to host in the palaces garden, hoping to have all of his sons together to celebrate their success in their crusade. While many of his brothers and their sons had arrived already, there was still a few missing as they were busy with final reports and or just arriving. Horus had dressed in his best pelts and downed light armor in his legions colors. You did the same, wearing a loose fitting dress that was decorated with golden trim and design. There was not mistaking who you were, you were his wife and the mother to his sons. His father had warned him to play nice, that you were not a toy but a diplomat as well.

“Do not hinder her, my son.” He had scolded before leaving him be and heading towards the great garden that was filled with music, laugh, and cheer.

Pleasantries were easy as drink and food flowed through the palace. You found it oddly natural to speak to many of his brothers as they all seemed to be similar in personality or at least feigned politeness. You slowly made your way to each brother and finally arrived at the last one who had been entertaining some of his nephews. Guilliman was wearing his people’s attire, a toga colored blue and with the insignia of his chapter proudly displayed in a golden lapel that kept his cape still on his shoulders. His golden lorals were exchanged for real leafs and his armored boots were traded for sandals. He was relaxed, sipping on the wine that was in his chalice.

Horus hoped you would show disinterest in Guilliman, that you wouldn’t want to approach him, that his younger brother was disinteresting enough to make you look away. But no, you approached him, your small hand finding place on your beloved husbands arm as you dragged him over to meet his brother. He complied, hoping that the interecation would be short and brief as this was what he was dreading.

“Brother, this is my lovely wife, Y/n. Mother to my sons, Legionnaire mother of the Luna Wolves.” Horus voice boomed at the last part, almost as he was reemphasizing that you were already spoken for and already had a legion of your own. You smiled and bowed your head at Guilliman, Berle standing straight and meeting his eyes.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Guilliman. My husband has spoken good thing about you, I can assure you.” Your joked. Guilliman let out a small chuckle, a smile blooming on his face as he nodded and joked back that he sure hope so.

You smiled brighter than you ever did with Horus. His brother spoke about his latest victory, detailing the assault and the execution of his plan all while gesturing with his hands. You were entertained by his brothers stories and it left a bitter taste in Horus’ mouth. No, this wouldn’t happen and couldn’t happen. Not here. Not in front of all of these people. Not in front of their father who had promised you to him. You were his. You were his! His wife, the mother to his sons. You couldn’t do this to him!

He grabbed you by the waist and dragged you away to his chambers without even saying goodbye. He threw his brother a quick smile and lead you back to his chambers where he threw you on to his bed and began stripping himself of his clothes as he watched you intently.

“Horus-“ he cut you off with a kiss as he began stripping you of your clothes too. Your clothes were torn and your moans were muffled by his mouth. It only pushed him to go further. He grabbed you by your legs and pushed them up to your ears, his arms and legs making sure to keep you spread open for him. He made use of his hands, his mouth, his cock to pleasure you tenfold so you wouldn't think of anyone other than him. He watched you gasp as he fucked into you and promised you he would ensure that you lay pregnant with his child after this. There was no tenderness in his actions. The once gentle man who would treat you like porcelain when he made love to you was now fucking you like a dog in heat and you his bitch to breed. His mouth found hole on your skin, biting and nipping at it as he thrusted into you. His ablks slapped against your ass as he used one of his hands to play with your clit and rub it as you began to scream that you were close. He didn’t care of you were close or not. He just needed you to remember that you were his first and you were his forever.

“Horus! I can’t-!” You choked out, back arching as you clung to him for dear life as his continues thrust made the bed shake.

“Come for me, Y/n.” He huffed. He tightens his grip around your legs, making sure his hand kept them together and still as he watched your pussy take his cock with ease.

“Let me breed and film you with my children.” He picked up pace before slapping your ass and cumming inside you. His cum began to leak out do you but he wasn’t done yet. More and more of his seed was released into your womb and all he did was watch as it began to coat his dick and your ass.

“Good. I’m sure we will have a welcomed surprise in due time.” He panted out. You lay still as you waited for your husband to pull out of you but he never did. Instead, he grabbed you and pulled you closer to him before he turned you both over and had you laying on his chest as he later on the bed. You could hear the loud thrumming of his heart in his chest as he slowly came down from his climax.

“It was rude to just leave, Horus. You owe your brothers an apology.” You teased, not truly caring as you could barely think in the moment. You were full and could still feel how cum leaked out of your abused and swollen pussy. Horus had never been so eager or predator like before, not even when you asked him to be. You wondered if you would get more opportunities to experience this side of him in bed.

You fell asleep listening to your husbands heartbeat, warm and protected in his arms when Horus lay awake watching you. You were his, child ir jot he would make sure you stayed by him as you were given to him to wed. If you wanted to leave him for his brother you would find that nothing you did wojld set you free. Nothing. You were his and he was yours.

#dd speaks #horus lupercal #horus lupercal x reader #warhammer40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #warhammercommunity #primarch #primarch x reader #Horus Lupercal w40k #w40k #wh40

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peakyswritings · 6 months ago

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

CHAPTER 10

Summary: mistakes were made the previous night, and Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with what the consequences of their actions will be.

Warnings: time-typical misogyny, talks of arranged marriage, talks of forced marriage, mentions of killing, mentions of violence, mentions of sex, angst, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s). This is set between season 1 and 2. English is not my first language.

Important information for context: the honour killing and the shotgun wedding at the time in Italy were recognised by the Penal Code and were only abolished in 1981.

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Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

It took Nina less than a minute to realise that she had woken up in a bed that wasn’t hers, in a room that wasn’t hers, beside someone she wasn’t supposed to be lying with. Memories from the previous night flooded back to her mind in a powerful wave. The passionate but gentle touches, the reassuring words, the adoring glances of that man that had bursted into her life to sweep her off her feet and make her question everything, all in the name of something more intense than anything she had ever felt.

Her eyes trailed over Tommy’s face, tracing the regular line of his jaw, the small scar under his chin, the outline of his slightly parted lips, the curve of his nose, mesmerised by the way his long lashes brushed his freckled cheeks. There was no hint of the stern, cold facade he put on every single day. He looked relaxed. Peaceful, even. Once again, she found herself drawn to that beauty, a beauty that seemed carved from marble by God himself.

Shit.

Careful not to wake him, she got up to collect the stained bedsheet she had tossed on the floor the previous night, wondering how she’d manage to wash it without arousing the suspicions of her mother. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door just enough to make sure no one was in the hallway, half-convinced that her mother or her father would appear from nowhere and find out the disgrace she had brought upon the family.

Just fucking do it, she scolded herself.

After one last moment of hesitation, she walked out the room, closing the door behind her ever so slowly before sprinting towards her bedroom. As soon as she was in the safety of those four walls, she breathed out a sigh full of frustration, nervously dropping the items she was holding to the floor.

What the fuck had she done?

Her gaze was caught by the bloodstain on the bedsheet, red, vibrant. She kicked it in a corner of the room, unable to think under the accusatory looks it seemed to send her. What would she do now? Pretend nothing had happened, again? She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. How was she supposed to act normal around him, now that they had truly crossed the line? How was she supposed to even look Agnese in the eyes? She had betrayed her. She had betrayed her whole family. Not only had she ruined herself, she had ruined herself with her cousin’s future husband. A future husband who hadn’t even proposed yet because of her. Not to mention that she wasn’t just ruining a marriage, but she was ruining the only chance they had at peace for her own selfishness.

The scariest thing was that wasn’t even the worst part. If the thing were to come out, she’d be irremediably deemed as a whore. It wasn’t her reputation she was worried about, it was the consequences her family would face. The consequences she would face. She had tarnished the Ferrante name, and only her blood could wash that stain away.

Normally the options were two: a shotgun wedding or an honour killing, but in her case the choice was even more limited. Because while her father might consider marrying her off to Tommy, uncle Mario would never accept the offence. And everyone in the family would vote against the alliance with the Shelbys. She knew her father and brothers would never actually kill her. They would get angry, maybe even beat her, lock her in the family home for the rest of her days, but never that. They would’ve learned to live with the shame. But she had uncles, and aunts, and cousins who would want to clean their name.

No, the truth couldn’t come out. What had happened the previous night must never get past the walls of Tommy’s room. Even if it meant losing him forever.

That morning, Maria Ferrante was rather surprised to find out her daughter had woken up feeling particularly cooperative and decided to wash and change everybody’s bedsheets of her own free will. She was now hanging them out in the sun, under her incredulous stare.

“Even your brothers’?”

“Yeah, for when they’re back.”

That was new. Nina had always stubbornly refused to even set foot in Salvatore’s and Pietro’s rooms, adamant that it was their responsibility to keep their stuff clean. Maria figured that, just like her, she didn’t like it when her father sent them away on business, and that her worry had taken the shape of rare gestures of fondness. Or maybe she was just keeping herself occupied, as she always did when something troubled her.

The first assumption wasn’t too far away from the truth. Sure, Nina had her own interests behind that sudden prodigality, but getting their rooms ready for their return made her feel like they would, with no doubt, come back. Like nothing would go wrong.

“That cake I found in the kitchen,” her mother inquired again, and Nina had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at her unrelenting interrogation. “Where did it come from?”

“I made it last night. Couldn’t sleep.”

A few seconds of silence followed, and it made her hope her mother was done with the questions. She had never been a good liar, not with the people who knew her well. Her face was an open book on which the truth stood out, black ink on pristine white paper.

“Nina,” Maria’s stern voice cut the air. “I know what’s going on.”

The blood froze in her veins. She thought she had been careful. She was sure no one had seen sneaking in or out Tommy’s room, all hell would’ve broken loose otherwise. There was no way she really knew. She swallowed, sending her a glance, completely unable to say anything.

Her mother’s face twisted in a sour expression, and her knowing eyes pierced right through her. “Stefano.”

Nina had to hold back a sigh of relief. She secured a pillowcase on the line, able to breath again now that she knew her secret was still safe. However, that name alone was enough to deepen the frown on her face, the mere sound of it making her skin crawl.

“You’re worried cause your father wants to give you to him.”

Give you to him. That sentence made her wrinkle her nose. She had always disliked that expression. Give you to him as if you’re a possession to be handed from one owner to another. Give you to him as if you’re a bargaining chip. Give you to him because you belong to me and you’re mine to give.

“I wanted that too,” Maria continued. “I thought he was good, but now I see. These men,” she lowered her tone, as if to tell her something meant for no one’s ears but hers. “They’re all the same. They’re cursed.”

It would’ve been an understatement to say that her words had taken Nina aback. That woman so defined by her role as a wife and a mother had now a look, an anger in her eyes she had never witnessed, that clashed with the meek acceptance she wore on her face every day. “Do better. Marry someone good. Someone honest, with an honest work. Leave this life behind while you’re still in time. I didn’t have that choice,” she shook her head, her features hardening under the weight of a pain that had been suppressed for too long. “I was poor, my family was starving, and when your father came to speak to my father I couldn’t choose. Your father has been good to me, and I grew to love him. But he is who he is and does what he does, and it’s not something easy to live with.”

Nina opened her mouth to speak, but closed it right away. Nothing she could possibly say after that was even remotely worth saying. All of a sudden, she regretted all the times she had cruelly told her she’d rather kill herself than end up like her.

Her eyes widened when her mother grabbed one of her hands and held it between both of hers, her calloused fingers a reminder of the years she had spent working to bring money to her parents. Maria Ferrante never spared herself when it came to show affection to her sons, but with her it was different. Nina had always believed it depended on the fact that she was not the daughter she would have wanted, or on the countless fights they had, or even on some kind of resentment she didn’t know how to justify. But the naturalness with which she brought her hand to her cheek to tenderly caress it carried a motherly love that left her speechless, and almost made her feel uncomfortable.

“Listen to me, find a good man. Or your father will choose for you and you’ll never get out of here. You will be cursed, and if you have sons, they will be as well, just like your brothers.”

Nina took a step back, the rage that had been simmering inside her ever since she was little threatening to rise to the surface and spill out. As a child, she had often imagined that feeling she couldn’t name as a stream of lava that would rise and rise until there was no room for it to grow anymore and it would overflow, implacable, ruthless, destroying everything it found in its path. Even now that she was older, even now that she had learned to recognise her anger, it still felt the same.

“I have a friend from church, who has a son. He lives in Florence now, but he’s here for the summer. I can arrange something-”

“Mum…” she interrupted her, not even listening at that point. But her mother went on, talking fast, as if she no longer had control over what she was saying.

“I can arrange something, and you can leave this life behind. You can come visit, from time to time. On holidays.”

“No one ever leaves this life, you should know it,” she murmured, trying hard to keep her calm. It was clear her mother wasn’t thinking straight, in her desperate attempt to spare her from the same destiny as her. Unaware that she was accidentally pushing her in a very similar direction.

As though that simple statement had managed to bring her back to her senses, Maria blinked, her expression changing.

“I won’t drag anyone else into this mess. And sure as hell I won’t marry a man just to escape another,” Nina said firmly. She wasn’t going to let Spinietta influence her decisions more than she had already done. She wasn’t going to let the fear make her stray away from her morals, her beliefs. She wasn’t going to lose herself.

Back to her composed demeanour, her mother straightened her shoulders, her voice hardening. “You’ll end up marrying Stefano this way. You know it.”

She was aware her mother was implicitly telling her that her father had made up his mind, and that she wouldn’t be able to help her. Yet, she wasn’t scared. Because she’d fight tooth and nail against it. They could drag her to the altar, take the vows out of her mouth by force, it wouldn’t matter. She would raise hell before she let them succeed. She would burn down the church and everybody in it, including herself. She’d die before she surrendered to a life that wanted her bent, broken, obedient.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” she said through gritted teeth.

“But this is what it’s like. It’s time for you to accept it.”

Bad news was received that day. Antonio Ferrante had written from England, saying that two of Sabini’s men had been caught trying to blow up his restaurant. In the letter, he specified that after a civil conversation about the motives of that unjustified attack, the two had walked away in cement shoes. A coded way to say they had been interrogated and then sent sleeping at the bottom of some river.

It was the first open act of war, and the family was worried it wouldn’t be the last. The strength they had demonstrated by thwarting Sabini’s plan and killing his men would buy them some time, but it wouldn’t be enough in the long run. That was why Tommy found himself sitting in Vincenzo’s office, trying to maintain his imperturbable facade as the Italian stood behind his desk in all his height, with a grave expression on his face. Tommy felt like he was studying him, searching for a sign of weakness that he could use against him, that he could use to make him cave. He recognised that look, cause it was the same one he wore whenever he needed to assert his power.

“I called you, Mr Shelby,” Vincenzo started, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet. “To remind you of your end of the deal.”

Tommy cleared his throat, sitting straight in his chair. “I intend to propose-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Ferrante cut him off, brushing away the matter with a gesture of his hand. He took his time to pour the brown liquid in two glasses, before sliding one across the wooden surface in front of him and beckoning him to drink. Tommy gladly did as he said, the familiar taste of alcohol feeling necessary to face a conversation he wasn’t sure where would lead.

“You promised us men, in our war against Sabini.”

“And men you’ll have,” Tommy assured, switching to the tone he reserved for business. “As soon as I receive the compensation for the warehouse you blew up.”

That had been the result of strenuous negotiations, and to achieve it, not only had he given up on any kind of reparation for the two pubs under the Blinders’ protection the Italians had destroyed along with the warehouse, but he also had to offer some of his best soldiers. However, the war against Sabini was also in his interest, and the power and money he would gain were worth compromising.

With a single, satisfied nod, Vincenzo took a seat in his leather chair. “I am a man of my word, Mr Shelby. You’ll have your compensation,” he guaranteed, grabbing his whiskey. He swirled the drink in his glass, pondering his next words. “That being said, my brother has expressed his concerns to me…”

Here we fucking go.

“His concerns about your lack of a proposal.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, bringing the liquor to his mouth to stall as his brain formulated an answer. “I still have two days, haven’t I?”

The shadow of a grin grew on the Italian’s face. “And you intend to wait until the very last one,” he pointed at him. “To keep us on edge,” he added, lowering his voice, the grin seeming to become less amused and vaguely threatening. Tommy’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t falter, nor did he break his stare, for the faintest hint of vacillation would make him as exposed as a prey in front of a beast that could smell fear.

But then Ferrante cracked a smile, his tone lightening. “Or to enjoy what is left of your time as a free man before being handcuffed.”

Tommy let out a forced chuckle, tilting his head in agreement. For once, he couldn’t think of anything to say. What could he say? ‘Speaking of enjoying my time, I fucked your daughter yesterday night’? He would have his head right there and then.

He was in deep shit, and until he found a way to dig himself out, he needed to keep up the act. For himself, for Nina. He couldn’t make any decision without speaking to her first.

“I heard you’re a man of your word as well,” Vincenzo spoke again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “So I told him he has nothing to worry about. Don’t make me regret it.”

Although the last sentence held a clear warning, the Italian spoke calmly, as though he was asking him a favour, rather than admonishing him. He talked and acted like a man who didn’t need to make threats, who knew his word was law and no one would dare go against his wishes. Tommy knew that feeling all too well, he had gotten a taste of it during the past year, and it hadn’t taken long for him to get used to it, and to want more. But in that moment, in that place, he was on his own. Sure, his reputation preceded him, and it protected him to some extent, but he was outnumbered and at a disadvantage. So he had no choice but to comply. To take a step back in order to be a step ahead in the future.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Ferrante leaned back in his seat, more relaxed now that the important stuff had been cleared out. “Cause Agnese is the apple of his eye,” he added, taking a cigar out of the pocket of his jacket. “His only wish is to see her happy.”

Things were far more complicated than Tommy had anticipated, and despite all his efforts to come up with a plan that would cause the least damage, he couldn’t imagine one scenario in which things didn’t go wrong. He could only take risks.

“Ah, daughters have their own special way of giving you a headache,” Ferrante murmured, waving the cigar. “If you have one, you’ll understand. You may go now, Mr Shelby.”

Clearing his throat, Tommy left the office, his mind endlessly mulling over the matter. He had his hands tied, and that feeling alone was enough for him to fume. No, he wasn’t going to have his hand forced, and he wasn’t going to let anyone scare him into a decision.

A newfound determination made its way inside of him. He was Thomas Shelby, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t need to ask anyone for permission. He took whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He made the rules. He held the power. Those people needed him just as much as he needed them, if not more, otherwise he would be six feet under already. He wouldn’t make a choice that would suit everyone, he would make the choice that suited him. Him and the woman who was now carved in heart.

Because Nina would suffer the consequences of their actions as much as him, if not more. He had taken liberties with her, and although he had no regrets, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t have a responsibility toward her.

But it wasn’t just duty. He wasn’t going to make that choice because he felt guilty, or responsible, or because it was the right thing to do. He was going to make that choice because he thought they could make it work. He knew her, and she knew him. She had awakened feelings in him he thought would stay asleep for the rest of his days, she had made him believe that even he could have a chance at happiness. She didn’t look at him like he was a lost cause, or a devil, or broken beyond repair, she looked at him like there was something beautiful in him only her eyes saw. And if those eyes had found even a fragment of something worth saving, that meant that he wasn’t utterly unredeemable, that there was still an amount of good, no matter how small, that had survived the bad.

As soon as he walked into his room, he opened the drawer of his bedside table. The small velvet box was sitting there, next to the gun he had carefully kept hidden since his arrival. He knew what he had to do.

The weather had turned grey. The afternoon sun had been covered by dark clouds, and the air already smelled like rain. Nina had rushed out to take the laundry inside, hoping the storm that was approaching wouldn’t cause the efforts of a whole morning to go to waste. When she had finally come out of hiding - hiding was definitely the right word - she had quite literally ran into Tommy, almost knocking him over in the process, before scurrying away like a thief. And now there she was, still deeply embarrassed by her graceless flight, hurriedly putting the clean bedsheets in a basket.

She had been openly ignoring him all day. Or rather, avoiding him. She hadn’t shown up for breakfast, nor lunch, and she sought refuge in the closest room every time she heard him approaching. She wasn’t proud of that childish reaction, but she genuinely didn’t know how to act. The intensity of her feelings scared her. She was afraid that they would get in the way when the time to push him away came, that she’d yield to him again the moment her gaze met his.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

That deep voice made her hasty movements come to a stop. Her heart raced in her chest as she heard Tommy’s steps coming closer, until he was mere inches away from her.

“Here I am,” she mumbled, not sparing him a glance as she resumed folding the laundry in the basket.

“We need to talk.”

“Be quick, they can’t see us.”

Those words burned on her tongue as she spat them out. It hurt her to treat him like that, when what she actually wanted was to have him close to her again. But did she have any other choice? Indulging in those feelings had only caused trouble. She had to let him forget about her just like she needed to forget about him.

Tommy didn’t seem fazed by her hostility. He put a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her to turn around. The contact roused the memory of his warm fingers trailing over her skin, and a shiver ran down her spine. His eyes searched her face, and there was a tenderness in them, a fondness that left her completely disarmed.

A lightning split the sky, followed by a crack of thunder, and the first drops of rain began to fall, bringing Nina back to reality.

“There’s not much to talk about,” she blurted out, abruptly taking a step back. “What happened yesterday can’t happen again.”

Tommy’s eyebrows knitted as she hastened to collect the rest of the laundry. He reached out to her, but she swiftly escaped his grasp, taking another sheet off the line. “Nina…” he tried again, but the more he got close, the more she slipped away from him. He rubbed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His patience was wearing thin at that point. He clenched his jaw, willing to make one last attempt to get her attention nicely. “Nina.”

Still nothing.

Fed up with that behaviour, he testily collected the rest of the laundry himself and threw it in a mess in the basket under her astonished stare. “Will you listen to me now?”

Surprisingly, there was no anger in his expression, nor annoyance, but there was still a hint of sternness that made her eventually give in. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak.

Tommy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Nina’s piercing gaze feeling like a knife cutting through him, unraveling and exposing the deepest parts of him. “What happened last night…” he trailed off, realising there were so many things he wanted to tell her that he didn’t even know where to start. “I overstepped, we-”

“We made a mistake,” Nina finished his sentence for him, trying to keep her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. “I made a mistake.”

She shouldn’t have opened up to him. She shouldn’t have gone to his room. She shouldn’t have kissed him. She shouldn’t have led him on when she knew nothing could ever happen between them. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away, she didn’t want to let him see how much she was hurting herself as well, for she could sense that if he got even a glimpse of her real feelings for him, he wouldn’t give up. A futile attempt.

Tommy’s gaze softened at the sight. “Hey,” he whispered, delicately squeezing her arm. “Look at me.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t bear that look full of affection. It almost caused her to break down. The drizzle was intensifying, and she could only hope that if her tears betrayed her, he’d mistook them for raindrops.

He grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to look at him. “We can make it right,” he said reassuringly.

“What do you mean?” she frowned.

Tommy hesitated for a moment, a nervousness equivalent to the one he had felt the previous night awakening in him. His hands started to shake, his heart to hammer in his chest. That was a point of no return which would either seal or break the bond that had formed so naturally between them. A bond he dreaded to lose. A bond he’d never have with anyone else.

Nina’s eyes widened as he took a velvet box out of his pocket, the realisation of what he was about to do crashing down on her.

“No,” she quickly took his hands in hers, keeping him from opening the box. “No,” she repeated, more softly.

“I know it’s a jump in the void,” he said, his hand going to cradle the nape of her neck. “I know. But we can make it work. You and me.”

“Tommy…” she shook her head. He was making it so difficult.

“I want you by my side. I don’t want a wife, I want a partner. Nina, I…” he paused, words getting caught in his throat. “I care about you.”

She squeezed her eyelids shut, pain spreading through her whole being at his revelation. She wanted to bring him close, to feel the warmth of his body against hers, to let herself be enveloped by the sense of safety his strong arms brought. Instead, she forced herself to pull his hand away from her, her fingers briefly tightening around it before letting it go.

“I don’t.”

Tommy looked at her as if she had just stabbed him. Hurt flashed across his face, causing a pang of guilt to hit her in the stomach. God, she felt like she could throw up.

“You’re lying,” he accused her in a hoarse voice.

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

“Stop it.”

Why couldn’t he just leave? Why was he forcing her to inflict all that pain on him? Tommy was the last person she ever wanted to hurt, and in doing so she was hurting herself twice. By being the cause of his sorrow and by giving him up.

His body stiffened, and the heartbreak in his features disappeared to leave space for the coldness he constantly shielded himself with. “Say it. Say you feel nothing for me.” It sounded like an order, but Nina didn’t miss the crack in his voice. “Say it’s all in my head.”

Her mouth went dry, but she didn’t avert her gaze this time. “It’s all in your head.”

She felt empty. That one last lie had taken all the energy out of her, and left her with a feeling of numbness that made her lose all sense of herself.

Tommy nodded to himself, taking a step back. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. “You’re right. This was a mistake.”

With another clap of thunder, the sky broke open and the rain came pouring down. Nina rubbed her own arms in a soothing motion, watching as the lightning spread in the distance, drawing lines of light that flared and vanished into the grey above.

“You should go, Mr Shelby,” she murmured.

A muscle twitched in Tommy’s jaw, and for an instant he looked on the verge of saying something. Then he stormed off.

Nina let out a shaky breath, and the tears she had held back suddenly began to stream down her face. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob, the ache in her chest threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She shut her eyes tight, unable to watch his frame getting smaller and smaller as he walked away from her.

When she brought herself to look in his direction again, he was knocking on Agnese’s door.

NEXT CHAPTER

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@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer

General tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x oc

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