#whats stopping you reverend mother?

[zoriaofthenight]

The Bene Gesserit would have fully succeeded if they only had the forethought and the ingenuity to implement mpreg into their breeding program tbh

[heechwe]

but daddy i love him | 𝐬𝐣𝐲

୨୧ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 10.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: badboy!au, innocent!reader, opposites attract, sexual tension, corruption kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), 69, pet names (baby, angel, etc.), face sitting, protected sex. ୨୧ synopsis: Just because there's a new and seemingly bad influence in your small town, it doesn't mean you have to fall privy to his charms, no matter how beautiful he is. But when he takes notice of you, none of the gossiping wine moms can stop him from getting what he wants. ➸ shoutout to @kwanisms and @mini-mews for helping this fic come to fruition, ily guys sm and this is genuinely one of my favorite pieces ive ever written aaa.

“Have you heard about the new family who moved into town? The son is a real piece of work!”

“He’s twenty-one but acts like he’s still sixteen on that damn motorcycle. No class or consideration whatsoever!”

“Maybe they’ll keep him in check if they decide to come to church this weekend. You know Reverend Park has no time for miscreants and delinquents.”

The familiar crowd on your mother’s front porch greets you as you’re attempting to exit the house. They cool themselves off with their makeshift fans and drink your mother’s homemade lemonade in the Saturday sun, continuing to harp on the locals in town that they’ve known for years.

Somewhere in their conversation, they drifted to the topic of the new family that moved in across the street. Three days was all it took for them to begin spouting their judgemental observations, every act from the new middle-aged couple and their son fodder for their discussion.

You smile politely with every fiber of your being, despite your instincts to snap at them and be on your merry way. If only they knew how ironic they are, pointing fingers at others from their high horses when the town kept enough space for their dirty little secrets. “Nice to see you this morning, ladies.”

They say your name with grace, their tones all air with little substance. “On your way to bible study?” Mrs. Choi asks, gazing at you from the rim of her glass.

You shake your head. “Just tutoring.”

“With the Nishimura boy? What a sweet kid.” When Riki’s name leaves Mrs. Lee’s lips, all the women hum in agreement. “Such a bright future ahead of him.”

“Of course, as long as he passes English,” you joke. The women’s faces don’t change, not taking your teasing with an ounce of anything but seriousness. The bags under their eyes, lipstick smudged in the tiny corners of their teeth, and piercing attitudes begin to damper your excitement for the day. You bid them goodbye quickly with another smile, walking down the stairs and onto the path down the street.

As you turn down the sidewalk, still hearing the resounding chatter from the women, your thoughts run wild. Is this what life would be like when you were older, doing nothing but kicking your feet up on a neighbor’s porch with only other people’s business to fill your time? Spending endless days and nights at church, listening to the same sermons leave Reverend Park’s lips until you become as overly critical as they all are?

The screech of tires halts your thoughts in their place. “Watch it!” A young man’s voice pierces the morning air, making you step back even further. You hadn’t realized how far you had walked into the road until you were back on the safety of the sidewalk. You trip on a crack between the two slabs of concrete, falling backwards and meeting the ground hard.

“Shit, are you okay?” He takes his helmet off, immediately hooking it to his handlebars to check on you.

Sim Jaeyun.

You had not met him formally until this moment, but the motorcycle and undeniable looks gave away his status as your new neighbor. Your parents had decided to let the new family settle in before trying to visit and introduce themselves. If they could see you now, your maxi skirt hitched up to your knees and the boy barely a foot away from you, they would have had a field day.

Sure, you both are of age. Butlike Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Lee, and other local townsfolk always do, people will talk about such a compromising position if you aren’t careful.

All those thoughts fade away though when Jake kneels beside you, his face flooded with concern. His eyes linger on the broken skin on your legs and then across your flushed face. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “It’s barely a scratch. Sorry I almost ran into you.”

“More like almost ran into my bike.” He laughs, his expression one of relief as well as humor. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

“Thank the lord.” You brush your hands on your skirt and begin to stand up, but Jake grabs you by the hand to help, taking all your weight with him.

“Thank you,” you say, brushing the free hair from your braid out of your face.

“You’re welcome.” He unclips his helmet from the bar and gestures back to his bike. “I can drive you to wherever you’re going if you want. I don’t have a second helmet, but–”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, the thought of riding on the back of a motorcycle too ridiculous to envision given your status as the deacon’s daughter. What would people say?

Jake just furrows his brows, his lips turning up at the corners. “Is my offer that funny?”

“No,” you say, “I would love to, it’s just–”

“Sim Jaeyun!” The shrill sound of Mrs. Choi’s voice makes you take another step away from Jake, unaware you were as close as you were to him. His presence seems to be magnetic, just like his smile. “Stay away from her or so help me God!”

Jake turns to the old woman down the road and nods his head, trying to be respectful but clearly irritated from her meddling. “Yes ma’am,” he yells, stepping back and getting closer to his bike.

“Maybe another time,” Jake says, “when you’re not flocked by the whining wine moms.”

You laugh and nod. “Maybe.”

Jake rides away on his bike, the wispy ends of his hair your last picture of him before he makes a sharp turn at the end of your street.

“Why do I need to learn this?” Riki groans, laying his head flat against his desk. The church bells ring as he knocks his head in the same rhythm against the polished wood.

“Because you need to be able to interpret text if you want to go off to college, Nishi. Otherwise you’ll be illiterate and an embarrassment to the entire town!” You put on your best harping, disapproving voice. It makes Riki laugh as he lifts his head. You’re glad at least the younger kids appreciate your sense of humor, unlike the older brood flooding your hometown.

“Alright, fine.” He opens his copy of Heart of Darkness, beginning to read the page in front of him. “I avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope…”

A knock on the classroom door makes you and Riki turn. Yeri opens it with a shy grin, saying your name with the same nature. “Someone’s here to see you!”

“Who?”

“Some cute guy on a motorcycle? But don’t tell Jungwon I said that!” She runs back out the door and leaves you puzzled. Surely it’s not Jake. You just met him; he wouldn’t make the effort to try and follow you to your tutoring session, especially at the church of all places.

You head to the window to see Jake sitting against his bike, looking around at his surroundings. He’s wearing the same leather jacket and gray jeans, his white shirt marked with several spots of sweat. Riki comes up behind you, making a sound of acknowledgement. “Oh, that’s Jake!”

“Jake?” You look closer. “I thought his name was Jaeyun.”

“Yeah, but I call him Jake.” He laughs. “He’s my cousin.”

You nod your head, taking in his words. Jake’s sudden move made a lot more sense, seeing as Riki’s mother was getting sicker every day. She must have needed some help from her family to not only manage her household, but make sure Riki stayed on track.

“He probably wants to see you. Yeri must’ve gotten it all mixed up.”

Riki grabs his phone, scrolling through texts with his thumb. “Actually, he did mention almost running over a cute girl on his way to work.” The young boy smirks. “I’m gonna assume that’s you?”

You blush, the flush on your cheeks making you feel hot. “Whatever. He’s probably just picking you up!”

“I brought my own bicycle, dude. And as cool as Jake is, his driving makes me nauseous.” Riki begins packing up his belongings on the desk as you wonder what Jake would want to say that hadn’t already been said earlier. Surely he had no interest in talking to you beyond another apology for almost killing you earlier, not that you would have noticed.

As your thoughts continue on, you barely hear Riki’s parting words. “Have fun making out with my cousin!”

You venture outside and are greeted to Jake’s soft smile as he looks you over. “Didn’t expect you to be teaching my cousin how to read.”

You laugh. “When would that have come up? Before or after I fell face-first on the sidewalk?”

“Technically, you fell on your ass.” He looks over the cuts on your leg again. “Still doesn’t hurt?”

“Barely remember it.”

“Damn. Didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he teases. You shuck your backpack over your shoulder, pretending his joke didn’t land. But you can’t help how your mouth curves into a grin. “Wanna take me up on that ride now? I don’t see any wine moms in sight.”

Being clear headed and not in the midst of a compromising position, you take a better look at Jake. He may look rugged from the neck down, muscles standing out through his jacket, but his face is incredibly youthful and vulnerable without a touch of hardness. Maybe the wine moms had gotten it wrong; maybe Jake’s actually a stand-up guy bundled up in a lot of leather.

Before you can answer, your father seems to appear from thin air. He wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Mr. Sim, pleasure to meet you officially.”

Your father holds out his hand for Jake, and Jake takes it with a steadfast grip. “Nice to meet you too sir. My mother was telling me how much you’ve been helping my aunt since she can’t attend services anymore.”

“Akemi is a pillar of our church. It’s only right to take care of one of our own as the deacon.” Your father squeezes you tighter to his side. “Glad to see you and my daughter have met. I hope she’s made a good impression upon you.”

“Yes sir. Very much so.” He smiles in your direction. The dimple in his cheek makes your heart flutter in your chest, the butterflies undeniable.

“Well, please tell your parents to come to ours soon for dinner. It would be a pleasure.” Your father begins the quick walk to his car, the silent request for you to follow him clear in his stern posture. You give Jake an apologetic smile before you leave, hoping your eyes hold the promise of taking him up on that ride someday.

When you’re both out of earshot and in the confines of your father’s car, he turns to you with a frown. “Do not get yourself involved with that boy. He doesn’t strike me as very forthcoming.”

You stutter out an excuse. Surely the first day of knowing Jake wouldn’t be the last. “F-Father–”

“Listen to me, sweetie. I know what I’m talking about.” He starts the car and begins the drive home, tightening his fists on the steering wheel. “I mean it. Do not see that boy again.”

The next morning, you’re sitting in one of the front pews with your mother, Yeri, and her mother. You see your fellow townsfolk in attendance in the other pews, Jungwon being one of them, Yeri’s longtime boyfriend. Mrs. Choi and Mrs. Lee look like they are partially focused on the attendees, but also on their own gossip.

All of you are dressed in your best outfits, your hair wrapped in a bun to maintain the peak of modesty. It doesn’t seem particularly realistic for a higher power to be judging you for your hairdo, but you gave in to your mother’s ridiculous requests as always. “We are important people in this community, darling,” your mother said as she stuck the umpteenth bobby pin in your hair. “If they can’t trust us, who can they trust?”

Riki sits behind you, his pew empty save for him. When you offer the empty spot next to you before the procession starts, he shakes his head. “Jake and his folks will be here any second.”

Your gut tightens, the words of your father playing over in your head. You know you have to heed his orders at all times, but the excitement you feel at the prospect of seeing Jake is unavoidable.

A minute before your childhood friend Heeseung sits at the piano to play the beginning of How Great Is Our God, Jake and his family walk inside. Jake’s impeccably dressed, clad in a red dress-shirt and suit pants. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a handful of tattoos you didn’t notice the day prior. He has his mother’s arm in one hand and a bible in the other, looking completely out of place but incredibly mesmerizing.

He winks at you when he sits down, making you turn your head back to your friend at the piano. You follow in your mother’s and Yeri’s lead, singing alongside them and forgetting the new buzz in your veins. You can feel his eyes on you throughout the songs and sermons, and you should say that you don’t enjoy it, but you don't kid yourself. His attention makes your body tingle in all the right and wrong ways.

You excuse yourself in the intermission, walking outside until you’re a good ten paces away from the church. You take several pins out of your hair, grunting. The incessant tools had been scratching your scalp uncomfortably for the past three hours, and it feels like freedom taking them out one at a time.

It isn’t that you don’t believe in a higher power or the teachings your father and Reverend Park have supplied you with your entire life. The town is just too suffocating on days like these, setting you up to feel like you aren’t good enough no matter how hard you try every day to perfect yourself.

The fashion show of your humble, presentable outfit, the whispered chatter from your community, the watchful eyes of holy men. They all make your skin crawl, that itch only intensifying with every day that passes. How could you stay in such a small room for years and feel misunderstood by everyone? 

Jake saunters up to you, making you gasp in surprise. “Jesus Christ!”

He smirks, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I thought you weren’t supposed to say his name in vain.”

You shrug, smiling in relief to find it’s just him and nobody else. No-one to meddle, judge, or question your absence. “I’ll just say a few words of penance. I’m sure he’ll forgive me.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Jake chuckles and steps closer to you, his eyes lingering on your dress. It’s incredibly modest, the only skin showing high above your cleavage. but the look in his eyes still makes your nerves tremble.

 You wonder what thoughts are swimming in his head and if a majority of them are impure. Would it be so wrong to confess that you feel the same? That whatever he’s imagining mirrors your own fantasies ten times over?

“The updo doesn’t suit you,” he says finally.

You giggle and cross your arms. “It doesn’t, huh?”

He steps closer, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. It lingers across your neck and shoulder blades. You shudder, hoping he doesn’t notice how his presence affects you. He reaches behind you and takes hold of the hair tie keeping your bun together. He expertly undoes it, your hair falling in waves around your shoulders.

Before he walks away, the church bells signaling the recommencement of the procession, he whispers in your ear, “Much more breathtaking with your hair down, angel.”

The next time you see Jake, he’s across from you at your family’s dinner table, all laughs with Jungwon and Yeri as your father passes out the rest of the side dishes. Riki is also there, discussing his mother’s treatment with your mother and Jake’s parents.

You can’t help the way your eyes attach to Jake across from you. It’s almost a form of punishment that you were made to sit in such close proximity, the weight of his stare on you swallowing you whole.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, his mouth against your ear–it was all so incredibly inappropriate. You shouldn’t have thought about that day last week with such excruciating frequency, but you did. You thought about it when you heard the wine moms whispering about Jake on your porch, when Yeri and Jungwon talked about him as you studied, and when you were alone at night. 

In your dreams, it was even more painful. In a perfect world, he would take his hand from your hair and keep it on your neck, holding you close. He would move his lips from the shell of your ear to the side of your neck, kissing and tasting what skin was available to him in that moment to make you come undone.

Yes, sitting across from him is torment. But the alternative is worse, not seeing him at all and having to conjure images of him alone in the quiet of your bedroom.

“Deacon, sir,” Jungwon pipes up from his spot next to Jake, addressing your father directly. “I was going to study with Jaeyun and Yeri at my house if you wouldn’t mind your daughter tagging along.”

The muscle in your father’s jaw clenches. He’s clearly unhappy with one of the attendees being Jake, but he hides it behind a smile. “It’s up to her. What do you think, sweetie?”

On one hand, you should absolutely say no. Jake may take you into a random spot of Jungwon’s house and make any resolve you still have disappear with the flick of his wrist. Even in the company of your friends, you know no place is safe when he’s around and close to you. And were you willing to crumble so easily?

At the same time, the distance is eating away at you. You can’t take another charged glance in your direction, words unspoken but begging to be released. If you have to catch his bedroom eyes on your body one more time, you may just snap in front of everyone, and care little when you do.

“Sure. I’d love to, Wonie,” you say with a grin. “Nishi, you want to come too?”

Riki shakes his head, enjoying the fruitcake your mom set out. “I’ll stay. Someone has to help clean up.” Jake’s mom squeezes one of his cheeks. Riki’s face suddenly turns pink from his aunt’s affection, making everyone laugh.

On your way out the door, your father catches you by the arm. He whispers, “No later than midnight. Understood?”

On the cusp of 10 PM, you want to protest that time with your friends is already so limited, but you obey with a nod and walk out the door. 

When you get in the backseat of Jungwon’s car, Jake too comfortable beside you, you feel your body flicker to life. “So,” you say, “your house then, Won?”

Yeri and Jungwon laugh, a conspiratory look in both of their eyes. “We’re just gonna make a quick stop first.”

Kiss ‘Em Creek was the unofficial name of the lake that ran through your town, a spot for teenagers to spend a few hours alone with their friends or partners. It wasn’t scientifically-correct, but it stuck nonetheless, many of the locals taking advantage of the not-so-secret hideaway. What went on there you only heard about through Yeri and the wine moms’ conversations, their voices littered with disappointment and condemnation.

Jungwon parks his car and turns his eyes to meet yours in the rearview mirror, that scheming smile still playing on his lips. “Ready to take a dip?”

Your eyes widen. You shake your head at a rapid pace, making your friends and Jake chuckle. “No way,” you say.

“C’mon babe, live a little!” Yeri winks and exits the car, Jungwon hot on her heels. The two of them begin to strip to their underwear, eager to jump in the water together. Jungwon picks her up in a bridal carry, Yeri laughing the entire way as he takes the first step into the awaiting lake.

As the two lovebirds continue heading towards the water, you and Jake sit in comfortable silence, your heartbeat slowly rising at the prospect of being alone in the car together. No distractions, no disappointed parents, no judgemental hags. Just the two of you under a cloud of stars and beautiful moonlight.

“I didn’t know if you would come tonight,” Jake says, filling the silence with a quiet chuckle. “Thought you were avoiding me at all costs, like I’m some kind of plague.”

“No!” You turn in your seat to face him. His expression is teasing but holds undercurrents of disappointment, clearly confused where your feelings lie. And he has every right to feel that way. One minute you’re wishing he would pull you closer, and the next you feel it’s better he keeps his distance. “I just don’t know what your intentions are.”

His eyes darken and his lips curve into a beautiful but intimidating smile. “Is it not obvious?”

You squeeze your thighs together, a wave of heat spreading through your bones. “Maybe I just want you to say it out loud.”

He scoots closer to you, his chest a heartbeat away from yours. “Well, to start,” he says, “I would really like to kiss you.”

You smile. A breathless laugh leaves your lips, eager to know what it would feel like to touch his mouth to yours. “I’d like that too.”

Jake runs a hand through your hair and rests it on your cheek. His touch is as fragile as the tension between you. “Then what are you so afraid of?”

You shut your eyes, trying to come up with the right words and falling short. “It’s just everyone–”

“Fuck everyone else.” He forces you to look into his eyes, the words leaving his mouth being some of the truest ones you’ve ever heard in your life. “You’re not a bad person or a sinner for wanting what you want.”

“I know that.”

“You may know it but you don’t believe it.” Jake’s lips ghost over yours, his breath tickling your cheeks. “Stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you. Think of yourself for once.”

Maybe Jake’s right. All of your choices in life have been dictated by what your parents, friends, and total strangers have felt. If you listened to your own heart, you would have left all of them in the dust by now, chasing what you really wanted far away from this place.

At the same time, you’re glad to be in this car with Jake. He’s so close to you, telling you to take the leap and choose yourself for the first time in a long time.

When you press your lips to his, the feeling of his mouth on yours soft and tentative, you know you can’t wake up tomorrow the same person. This choice will ripple into all the choices you make from this moment on, but you don’t seem to care.

All that matters is his mouth, taking more control and setting a fire deep in your belly. He presses his tongue to the juncture of your lips, diving inside without protest.

You moan into his mouth, feeling one hand firmly pressed on your neck as the other runs down your shirt to squeeze at your breast through your clothes.

“Fuck, tell me to stop,” Jake says with a heady whisper, still kneading your breast with his palm. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him to the point you’re halfway on his lap, legs intertwined with his. “So help me God, don’t stop now.”

He snickers, pecking your lips again. “You said his name in vain again.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles into your neck. “That wasn’t the first thing on my mind.” You move your lips to his cheek. “Or the second.” They trail down to his neck, taking your fantasies and etching them into his skin. “Or third.”

“Fuck,” Jake curses, holding you tight against him. “You’re too good at this.”

You smirk. “Contrary to popular belief, you’re not the first person I’ve ever kissed.”

He laughs, the rumble of it vibrating against your mouth. “I don’t care as long as you keep kissing me.”

“Wasn’t planning on stopping.” By the time you reattach your mouth to his, you’re straddling his lap. His hands are nestled on the small of your back, wanting to inch down further but unsure where or what your boundaries are.

You take the initiative, suddenly bold, and put both of his palms on your backside. “If you wanted to touch my ass, you could’ve just said so.”

Jake licks his lips, his accent coming out in a husky whisper. “I want to touch you in a lot of places. Your ass just happens to be easily accessible right now.”

“Oh really?” You giggle. “Care to enlighten me?”

Jake sharply switches positions, your back against the expanse of the backseat as he towers over you. He rubs his hands across the outside of your thighs, eager but patient. “Gladly.”

He kisses your neck, suckling and licking with perfect pressure, making you whimper. “Jaeyun,” you say out loud, his name coming out like a question more than a statement.

“Use your words, angel. Tell me what you want.” His eyes pass over your face, your kissable lips and lust-blown irises. You’re too entrenched in him now to walk away from this car the same girl, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It may end badly, crash and burn completely like everyone expects it to, but that’s the last thing you care about right now.

“I want you to touch me.” You take one of his hands on your thighs and place it over your underwear, its center damp.

“Jesus,” he says in wonder, rubbing his fingers against the cotton.

“You just said–oh,” you stop short when you feel Jake’s fingers against your clit. The sensation makes you buck your hips up into him, him discovering the bundle of nerves without trying hard. He’s clearly happy at the wetness he finds. He rubs your folds in the same fashion, biting down on his bottom lip hard.

“You feel so good already. So perfect,” he whispers, taking hold of your lips again with his own while he swirls his fingers in and around your essence. He switches between teasing your clit and rubbing along your pussy, his movements lewd yet graceful. Only when he puts a finger inside of you do you gasp and look at him directly, your eyes clearly giving away your fear.

“What’s wrong, angel? Did I do something?” Concern floods his face, but he doesn’t take his hand away.

“I’ve never gone this far,” you confess, looking to your side to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He turns your head to face him again, fingers laying under your chin softly. “We can stop now if you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

His response makes your heart clench. Most guys, you’d imagine, would be pissed off or pleading with you to continue on, to do what they wanted and enjoy the moment. That was how Jongseong was, pouting the entire time after you told him to pump the brakes on your makeout sessions.

Somehow, with Jake, it feels right to continue. You suddenly have no anxiety clouding your thoughts or expectations weighing on your heart. You kiss his lips tenderly and shake your head. “No, I want this. I want you.”

A cheshire-cat grin spreads across his face before he goes in for another kiss. He runs his tongue along the inside of your mouth as his finger slides across your folds once again. He plunges it deep inside of your heat, your body adjusting to the new sensation with surprising ease.

You thrash lightly underneath him, matching the tempo of his finger with abandon. He slips another digit in, groaning at the feeling of your soft, gummy walls becoming accustomed to him. “You’re taking my fingers so well, angel. ‘S fucking incredible.”

You gasp and feel the fire from earlier heightening in intensity, spreading from your belly into the other seams of your body. It makes your toes curl and your hand press against one of the doors of Jungwon’s car, needing something to clutch onto while feeling yourself losing what’s left of your control.

“Jaeyun, I think I–”

“I know baby,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re going to feel so good in a second, I promise. Don’t be afraid.”

His thumb makes contact with your neglected clit, rubbing in rapid motions as he pumps his fingers faster in and out of you. You suddenly become overloaded with pleasure; its immensity is something you’ve never felt before. You feel it coat the back of your mouth and take what’s left of your rational senses, your body moving on its own accord as you ride out what’s remaining of your orgasm.

You blush furiously when you come back down to earth, giggling like a schoolgirl as Jake kisses your sweat-drenched cheek. “That was…amazing.”

Jake chuckles, a smirk painting his features. “You’re amazing.”

You tuck your face in your hands, embarrassed but still enraptured by what you just experienced. He pulls one hand away, taking it in his own, his expression suddenly shy. “So, I guess this is the part where I ask you on a proper date.”

You laugh and sit up, placing your panties back around your hips and adjusting your skirt. “I would hope so!”

Jungwon and Yeri choose that moment to run back into the car, their hair drenched but their bodies properly dressed once again. Jungwoon looks at the two of you in the backseat and grimaces. “Not in my car, man!”

Despite the warnings from your parents and the wine moms, you and Jake had become inseparable within a month’s time. It took many late-night impromptu meetings and secret rendezvous to keep your relationship private, but you had succeeded thus far. And it only made the moments you both shared that much more special.

Riki had kept your secret, keeping his eyes out for any prying townsfolk and covering for his cousin and you if need be. Yeri and Jungwon also cheered you on from the shadows, hoping one day you could be public like they were without criticism.

Sitting in the field near the lake, a picnic blanket set across the grass, you have your head in Jake’s lap while he absentmindedly turns strands of your hair into miniature braids. It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon, the two of you occupying the resounding forest with no outside influences.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful your hair is?” Jake asks, kissing your forehead before he takes another batch of strands in his hand. If he has to pick one of your best attributes, in his words, he’d say it was a tie between your lips and your hair, the two of them constantly making his heart race. You called him a liar, but as time revealed, he was nothing but honest with you every day, and not just about what turns him on. 

Over time, you discovered his fears, his ticks, his aspirations past the small town you both found yourselves in. You admire his vulnerability, how open he is when sharing the thoughts that occupy his mind.

“At least three times already,” you tease, running your hand across his leg.

“It’s not bad to hear it a fourth time, right?” He plants another kiss to the crown of your head. He drops the braid he’s just made across your face, making you laugh.

“I’d rather hear how work went today,” you say, getting up to press your back to his chest, snuggling into him.

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Not much to talk about. Working with roofs all day isn’t exactly exciting, angel.” 

You know Jake doesn’t want to work at his dad’s construction company for the rest of his life. However, it provides stability, and that matters a lot to him. He knows what it did to his aunt when Riki’s father walked out early on in his cousin’s life, and he wouldn’t wish that lack of support on anyone.

“At least you’re not running a tutoring center and a daycare in the same church,” you joke, your tone anything but humorous. The brood you dealt with every day was completely unlike Riki. They were kids that were carbon copies of their parents, children that would one day become exactly like their absentminded fathers and speculatory mothers. It put a taste in your mouth you couldn’t stomach.

You fall into steady silence, the uptick in both of your nerves ebbing away the longer you hold each other. Sure, Jake hates roofing as much as you hate disciplining whining toddlers and helping apathetic tweens with mathematics, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.

All that does is each other, enjoying the midweek sunset and the sounds of the birds flying overhead.

“What would you do if you were somewhere else?” Jake asks into the crook of your neck.

You grin, imagining a world of possibilities. The question never came up before, not from him or anyone else. It opens up a plethora of choices in your mind, but you narrow them down quickly, knowing what your heart truly desires.

“I’d like to teach,” you answer. “Really teach, maybe at a university. Something like poetry.” You turn to look at him, a newfound fire in your eyes. “Yeah.”

Jake smiles back at you, moving stray strands of hair from your shoulder to rest his head there. “I think you’d be great at that.”

“What would you do?”

Jake ponders the question, going over it in the same way you were moments before. You see realization wash over his features, and it makes you smile. “I think I’d write. Not literature or anything, but songs maybe? Teach music in the meantime. Still have to make money somehow, y’know.”

You giggle and push him down on the picnic blanket, running your fingers through his hair. “Sounds like a plan.”

He nods, sharing your happiness. “Maybe a kid and a dog can fit somewhere in that plan.”

Chuckling, you raise one eyebrow. “As long as I’m not having a baby out of wedlock, that sounds perfect to me.”

He turns you both over, covering your body with his and kissing you intensely. The passion runs from his body to yours, your heartbeats matching in their strong beats against your chests. “Perfect,” he whispers, his lips meeting yours once again.

It may be too soon to call it love, but you know you’re tiptoeing that line, and you wouldn’t mind falling headfirst on the other side of it as long as Jake’s there waiting for you.

“Are you sure they don’t know I’m here?” Jake asks, hesitant to walk up the stairs to your bedroom.

“It’s fine! They’re at a seminar all weekend with Reverend Park and his son, I promise.” You kiss his lips before running up to your room. Still on the fence, you hear his tentative footsteps trudging behind you.

Another few months rolled by, and your parents had softened to the idea of Jake being around more often. He showed up with his parents to church every Sunday, even if you both snuck off to make out in the backwoods when nobody was paying attention.

He’d stick around for the deacon’s sessions with Akemi, brightening her spirits with his guitar and a couple of songs to replace the ones she missed during normal processions. It helped that she seemed to be getting better, slowly but surely, with treatment and daily prayer.

When you heard your father call Jake a “nice kid,” you knew they were turning a corner in their relationship that you wished for since the night Jake kissed you in Jungwon’s car.

Now, that doesn’t mean they would be happy with finding him in your bed on a Friday night, but you’ve broken enough rules at this point. What’s one more?

“You’re trying to get me killed,” Jake jokes as you rip his shirt from his body, discarding the article of clothing on your bedroom floor. You sit on your bed and marvel at the muscles on his chest and stomach, all of it yours to caress and kiss at any time.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll follow you to heaven,” you tease, pulling him closer to kiss his body. Each press of your lips to his skin makes him tremble, cursing quietly to himself at the feeling.

“With the way you’re touching me, I doubt either of us will make it there.”

You giggle and link his mouth to yours. You moan when his tongue hits the roof of your mouth.

The intentions you had for tonight definitely involved numerous bouts of kissing, but the way Jake’s making you feel will certainly end up with his face or fingers between your legs. And as good as that sounds, you don’t want him derailing you from completing your mission.

There had been so many moments of him giving you pleasure up to this point, you wondered how he had stayed so composed and content after without expecting anything in return.

So, tonight, you decided to give him a bit of satisfaction, even if you’re walking into such activities without any kind of road map. Yeri gave you a handful of tips, but doing it for real is another beast entirely.

“Jaeyun, wait,” you say, taking his face in between your hands.

He looks up at you with eager eyes, wondering why you pulled him away from your neck. “What is it?”

“I want to take care of you this time.” You say, hoping your expression gives off the confidence you’re trying to portray. “I’ve never done it before, but—“

“And you don’t have to, angel,” Jake says with a dopey, relaxed smile. What on Earth and heaven did you do to find a guy like him?

“Please,” you beg, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. “I want to try.”

Jake’s conflicting feelings are evident in his eyes. Surely any man wants his girlfriend to go down on him with the same eagerness that you're giving him right now, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated. 

In his mind, pleasure isn’t about some sort of trade-off. He makes you feel good because he wants to, not because it’s some duty he has to fulfill and expects to be paid back for later.

But, you asked so nicely and your eyes shine up at him so beautifully. He feels his resolve crumble enough to concede and do what you want.

You begin to unbutton his pants, your fingers twitching not from fear but excitement. When you pull down his jeans fully and see the outline of his bulge in his briefs, your mouth falls open slightly at the size.

Could it fit in your mouth if it was that big?

Jake chuckles and takes your hand to press to the gaping material covering him. “It won’t bite.”

You look up at him and begin to stutter, unsure how to continue once you take off his underwear. “D-Do you want me to use my hands first?”

“Whatever feels right to you, angel. I trust you.” He rubs his thumb across your cheek, and it calms all the nerves that came to the surface.

It’s in those three words that you find the courage to pull the remaining article of clothing off of him, taking in the sight of his cock in all its glory.

You gulp hard, trailing your eyes from the tip to where it adjoins to the rest of him. You’ve never seen one up close before, and you feel like you’re invading his privacy as you stare at it for another long minute. But who can blame you?

“It’s all for you, baby,” Jake whispers. “Do whatever you want.”

You feel a sharp pang of heat at the center of your thighs, his words spurring you on. You spit into your hand, as Yeri instructed, and wrap your hand firmly around Jake’s cock. With an easy but deliberate pace, you look at Jake directly to see if you’re starting off on the right foot.

And boy were you.

Jake hisses at the feeling of your hand encasing him, loving the tightness of your fingers as they continue sliding up and down his dick. He had envisioned this many times in the solitude of his bedroom, images of you and your beautiful body writhing underneath him enough to get him off. But those nights were nothing compared to this.

“Are you ready for my mouth now?” You ask timidly. Jake wants to laugh at how innocent you sound, the words coming so naturally off of your tongue.

“Yes, angel, please,” he answers, wanting to caress you by the hair and guide you down to his awaiting, leaking cock.

You move closer until you're an inch away from his tip. Flattening your tongue to take it into your mouth, you keep watching Jake’s face for the right signals.

His mouth opens, a satisfied whine leaving his lips. You feel a wave of pride at the fact he’s enjoying it so much, egging you on further.

“Your mouth feels so perfect wrapped around me,” he confesses. He soaks in the sensation of your lips and teeth softly running over the veins of his cock, your head bobbing across his length skillfully. How can an innocent and dutiful daughter like you give such mind-blowing head?

He can’t ruminate on the answer long, releasing a guttural moan as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, the gag that rumbles from you making his cock even more sensitive.

“Angel, I’m gonna come soon,” Jake warns. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, let me know now.”

You look up through your lashes at him as you continue sucking on him with fierce passion, swirling your tongue across his tip. 

His hand is wrapped firmly in your hair now, fucking your face as softly as he can without forcing anymore of himself down your throat. When you take a hand to cup his balls, softly kneading them between your fingers, he’s done for.

He whines pathetically as his seed shoots inside your mouth. The taste isn’t particularly pleasing, but you milk it for what it’s worth to watch him fall apart so perfectly under your attention.

The orgasm rocks through him with an unshakeable amount of pleasure, his body completely helpless as he continues to spurt into your mouth. He can only hiss and whine as you continue to touch him, letting him come down fully and taking all of him without complaint.

Jake breathes in deeply when he gains clarity again, taking you in his arms and shoving his tongue deep in your mouth. “That was probably the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” he states, running his fingers over your face with adoration.

You scoff and roll your eyes, his words making you shy. “I doubt it, seeing as that was my first one.”

“It was!” Jake puts a hand on his heart. “Swear to the savior himself.” Before you can rebut, Jake takes your legs in his hands and moves you to the edge of the bed.

You wake up to the hard knocks at your bedroom door, the morning sun peeking out of your window to prove the previous night has long gone.

“Honey? What did we say about locked doors in this house?”

Your father’s booming voice makes you jump up from bed, smacking Jake hard on the shoulder and chest to wake him up.

“We had an odd feeling at the hotel, so we came home early,” your mother says as you shake Jake from his sleep.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Jake grunts, his voice not quiet enough to go unnoticed. You curse yourself and the reality in front of what’s about to happen, knowing full well your parents heard him on the other side of the door.

“Sweetie, who’s in there with you?” Your mother’s shrill but concerned tone makes you cringe. Jake’s eyes bulge in response, quickly leaping from the mattress to pull on his clothes in haste.

Just when you throw your dress from last night over your head and Jake buttons up his pants, your father slams open the door with his shoulder. Your parents gasp and yell at the sight before them, the man they began to grow comfortable with in a compromising position with their only daughter and precious child.

“What in God’s name is he doing here?” Your father asks no-one in particular, stomping towards Jake’s shirtless figure and yanking him by the neck.

“Daddy, stop!” You plead, scratching and clawing at his frame to pull him off of your lover.

Your mother begins blubbering, teary-eyed before you. “Oh honey, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” you scream. “Please leave him alone and let us be.”

“I told you to stay away from him.” Your father stares you down, eyes blazing with fury. “Not only did you betray me, but you betrayed the sanctity of your purity. It’s a disgrace.”

Jake coughs, your father’s hands tightening around his neck. “The only disgrace is the two of you holding her back, like she’s some weak bird in a cage,” he croaks. “She can make her own decisions.”

“You stay silent, you insolent pest,” your father growls, yanking Jake out of your room and down the stairs. By the time you and your mother make it out to the bottom step, your father has thrown Jake out and onto the porch.

“Stay away from my daughter, or you’ll have another reason to pray you don’t end up burning in hell.”

“Stop it!” You step in between your father and Jake, the latter putting on what’s left of his clothes. People begin to hover too close to your family home, suddenly entrenched in the scene playing out before them.

Jake kisses your forehead and walks away in the direction of his parked bike, unsure what else he can do unless he wants to truly end up six feet under. 

 Your father grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you in the direction of your porch, but you resist with all your might. “You can’t make me go back in there.”

“I am your father and you will listen to me,” he grunts, holding on tight.

“Daddy, I love him!” You scream as you yank your arm away from your father, your inner strength giving way. “If you can’t accept that, I guess I’ll just have to burn hell with him. Better than wasting another second here.”

You run toward Jake’s bike and sit behind him, cinching your arms around his waist. He smiles to himself, feeling the press of your chest to his back as he puts his helmet over his head. “Are you sure about this, angel?”

You nod furiously, not bothering to look back at your red-faced family. “More than I’ve ever been.”

All you focus on is his motorcycle rumbling to life before you speed away. Your hair blows in the wind as you both escape the horrified stares of the local vipers.

You end up at a motel on the other side of town, far away from the scandal that’s surely rocking your small community by now. The deacon’s daughter running away with the bad boy next door? What a tragedy!

You run inside to miss the upcoming rain, both of you shivering from the barrage of pellets that did land on your skin. You settle onto the mattress as Jake drops the small amount of belongings he had in his possession on the dresser.

He turns to you with quiet concern, arms splayed out on the furniture as he looks at you, searching your face for any lingering doubt. “No regrets?”

You shake your head, exhausted but glad to be out of that house. “None at all.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and sits down beside you on the bed, rubbing your thigh with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows knit together, confusion pouring over you. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

 You feel tears build at your eye ducts, your voice suddenly growing thick when you recall the scene from an hour ago. “I’m sorry my father was so horrible to you.”

“Hush, it’s okay,” he puts his other hand on your face. He kisses your lips tenderly and gracefully. How did nobody else but you see he possessed the most kind nature of anyone you’ve ever known?

Jake moves his head, his lips curving into the smile that always takes your common sense away. “I love you too, by the way.”

Your confession from earlier hits you like a heavy rock, your eyes going wide and your face turning pale. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to say it.”

“Then say it now,” Jake urges, your face resting gently between his fingers.

There’s no fear or pressure when the three words leave your lips, only the feeling of a weight lifting off of your chest. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun. I love you with my whole heart.”

His face lights up, the words seeming to set aglow something deep within him. The only right reaction seems to be in the form of his lips attaching to yours in a passionate kiss, your shared love creating a beautiful path forward for the both of you.

He whispers his next words so lightly, you almost assume the statement is a figment of your imagination. “Marry me.”

You feel your face contort into a mixture of disbelief and elation, needing to hear him say it again for it to truly resonate. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his smile stretching across his face. “Marry me now, or in three months from now, or whenever you want. Just say you will.”

You exhale a breath of astonishment, unsure if he knows how much you want to say yes, to make this as real as it sounds on his lips. He leaves your side with a kiss to your temple to grab something from his jacket. 

He comes back in record time, standing in front of you and twiddling the black box in both of his hands with anxious fingers. “I brought it with me to your house last night, I just didn’t know how to ask then. But I do now.”

Like in all the stories you’ve read and movies you’ve seen in your lifetime, he sinks down onto one knee before you. You place a hand over your mouth as he opens the box, a ring with an opal-shaped diamond cushioned in the center.

“Would you please do me the honor of being my wife?” Those words on his lips, visibly shaken from his own question, make a thousand butterflies flutter inside your chest.

Months ago, if you knew then you would end up here, from the edge of the sidewalk to now, you would not change a single moment. The world had been so gray before, you didn’t know what it was like to step in the sun until he came into your life. What other answer is there?

“Yes, yes, yes,” you respond, tears flooding your eyes as he shakily places the ring on your finger. It fits just right, the stone at the center sparkling in the darkness of the motel room.

You kiss Jake’s lips with all the force your body possesses, certain there’s no better future than right beside him.

The feeling of the gold band around your finger makes Jake shudder as it touches his cock. Your body is nestled perfectly on top of his as you take what you can’t put in your mouth between your fingers.

He laps up your essence with his tongue, ecstatic to have his face covered in your juices and smothered if need be by your wet cunt. If people think wedding nights are magical, engagement nights have to be a step up.

“Fuck, Jaeyun, yes,” you roll your hips into his awaiting mouth, his tongue available for you to lay your slit onto. The expletive leaves your mouth like honey, the feeling fitting for such a dirty word.

He knows exactly how to make you fall apart and be put back together, and the thought of doing this for the rest of your life makes you want to cry again from the pure happiness inside your core.

Jake takes his lips off of your pussy and sits up. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he takes you into his lap on the bed and kisses you fiercely. You taste yourself on his tongue as he skillfully takes your breath away with his lips. When you part, he says, “Angel, I know we said we’d wait, but I don’t know how much longer I can handle not being inside of you.”

You whimper at his words and suddenly rock your center into the tip of his cock, making him groan in the process. “I mean—we’re just starting early, right?” 

Jake releases a joyous laugh and kisses you hungrily, his face in a constant state of ecstasy since you said “yes” hours ago. “Right.”

 The anticipation makes you even wetter, crawling to the head of the bed as Jake grabs a condom from the bedside table. If there was one thing he had promised, he swore he wouldn’t get you pregnant. Not yet, anyway.

He rolls the rubber over his cock before joining you on the bed, lining up perfectly with your center. He rubs his tip against your folds, biting his lip at how easily it gets coated in your essence. “Ready?”

You nod eagerly, a smirk filling the entire bottom half of your face.

He pushes the tip in, the pressure a foreign feeling you had never experienced before. It took time and practice to get used to the size of his fingers, but this is another level of fullness that takes your breath away.

Once Jake’s partially inside and gives you a moment to adjust, he asks, “Can I move?”

You nod your head, holding onto his shoulders for support as he begins to thrust inside of you. He loves to see his cock disappearing between your legs, your body eagerly taking him in and stretching itself out to accommodate him. He loves the way you whimper at the movement of his hips and the pleasure you’re receiving.

Better yet, he loves you. He loves all of you, from the nonsensical words you speak in your sleep to the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you get mad. You’re all his, and he’s grateful to be the only one you call yours.

“We may never leave this motel,” Jake says, his words breathy as he continues moving his hips. “I could stay inside of you for the rest of my life, angel.”

“I love you so much,” you say, inching your hand between your bodies to roll your clit between your fingers.

“I love you,” Jake says. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you like he wants to pour all of his emotions from his being into your soul, just so you know how deep his love for you goes.

It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful, you feel the swell of your release cresting over you like a tidal wave. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whisper, your mouth open wide from the moans and cries you cannot suppress.

Jake groans and slams his hips into you harder, filling you to the hilt repeatedly. “Come, angel. Come for me.”

You cry out as the orgasm takes hold of your body, your fingers working on their own accord on your clit as you fall off the edge.

Jake stills not a second later, releasing into the condom and taking the last remnants of his energy to thrust inside of you a few more times.

He pulls out and throws the rubber in a nearby trash can. His sweaty body clings to yours, hands rubbing up and down your arm tenderly as he kisses the curve of your shoulder.

You see the flash of your ring in the glow of the motel’s neon sign, and you think about how the night could not have gone any better.

Jake may be a bit reckless and not what you initially imagined for your future, but now that you have him, you wouldn’t give him up for anything. All the parts of you that stayed buried for so long have resurfaced because of him, and you could not be more grateful.

With your left hand a touch heavier than it was some hours ago, you fall asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the window and Jake’s rising and falling chest.

You walk out of your mother’s house, happy to have made a visit with her before she ran off to do her morning errands.

What you’re not pleased to encounter is the same crowd of women huddled with their homemade fans and cups of lemonade. They weren’t there when you arrived a few hours ago.  Of course they show up when you have no chance of escaping them, like the vultures they are.

“Mrs. Sim,” Mrs. Choi says, her tone entirely made of stone with little warmth. “Pleasure to see you.”

Your new surname gives you indescribable amounts of happiness. It took your parents some time to get used to, but eventually, they realized you put your heart in the right place. Your father took his sweet time getting there, begrudgingly admitting a short time ago Jake is a very acceptable son-in-law, the turnaround of his perception of your husband complete.

You give the crotchety ringleader a fake smile and attempt to walk away, but Mrs. Lee interjects. “How’s your mister doing working at the church now?”

“Great,” you say, genuinely happy to talk about a topic you care for. “Jaeyun loves the kids. Little Yuna might actually be a guitar prodigy from what he’s told me.”

They all coo, practically synchronized in their sips of lemonade and fan flurries.

“Soon enough you’ll have one of your own, I’m sure,” Mrs. Choi remarks with sarcasm, her red-lipstick-stained front teeth on full display.

“Not too soon now,” Jake suddenly says, walking up the pathway to your mother’s house and taking you in by the waist. “My wife has to finish her Masters first. How else is she gonna start teaching at the community college?”

My wife. No matter how long it’s been since you officially got married in your church, that day a year ago forever ingrained in your memory, it still warms you to the bones hearing those words leave Jake’s lips.

The women all express signs of agreement, some nodding while others hum.

“We better get back home now, but you ladies have a nice day!” Jake bids them goodbye and walks you both down the stairs with his hand on the small of your back. Even if he were to be more than the perfect gentleman in front of them, they would still linger around with pesky eyes and constantly moving lips.

“They’re still betting we’re gonna crash and burn, aren’t they?” Jake whispers, teasing you with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. You fall more in love with him every day that passes, no matter what the people around you do or don’t see. They may have their opinions, but it won’t shake the foundation you’ve built. “Well, they’re sure to be disappointed if I have anything to say about it.”

Jake’s eyes widen, his expression humorous yet surprised. “Easy, angel. Don’t want to have to tear my wife off of a nosy wine mom.”

Your heart aches at his words, him fully aware of what two of them in particular do to you. “I love you.”

Jake grins, inching his face closer to yours. “I’d love nothing more than to kiss you right now, but what would everyone say?” He asks with a mock face of horror.

You shrug without much care, grinning. “Someone once told me ‘fuck everyone else.’ And right now I couldn’t agree more.”

Jake laughs before he places a gentle kiss to your lips, the sun radiating off of him in waves as he pulls you closer.

No matter what anyone in your small town has to say, your choices are yours; you’re perfectly happy with how your life has turned out whether they think so too or not. And you will always choose Sim Jaeyun, now and forever.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[nervoushottee]

With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

---- ---- ----- ----

Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 

“Yes please.” he begs softly. 

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.” 

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

. 

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 

“Let me see you.” 

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 

“Show me again.”

[cassie48]

∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader

• Pt 1 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.

When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.

When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.

When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.

The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.

When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.

After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.

One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.

As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.

“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.

After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.

It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him

All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you

You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.

As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!

Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.

“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.

“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started

“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.

Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.

The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.

Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.

When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.

After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.

She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.

Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.

Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.

“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.

“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.

“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.

“W-What?” You whispered still confused.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.

You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.

“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.

“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.

You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.

“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.

“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

There will be a pt2!!

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 1.520K

Chapter 2

Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’

‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.

When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s  voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.

Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.

Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.

Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.

There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.

‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.

 Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…

She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…

She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.

Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.

Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus

He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.

She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.

One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.

They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.

The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.

Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.

Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.

Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.

It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.

Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.

They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’

[brittle-doughie]

Rejoice (St. Pastry Order)

[The Lone Giant AU]

“Have you heard? The Giant is said to be walking through nearby Parfaedia tonight, they’re going to impose a curfew.”

“Really? Well, you won’t be catching me going outside then. Guess I’ll stock up on potions in the morning.”

“Is there really nothing that can be done to take care of the Giant? Has no Cookie ever tried using magic or their blades to take care of them?”

“Magic has no effect on them and not even the largest blade can make a sizable scratch. Besides, I doubt those White Mask cookies will allow you anywhere close to the Giant.”

“Oh right, those Cookies. The ones that claim that the Giant is their Divine Creator, here to reunite with their cookies once more. A whole lot of crazy if you ask me…”

“Crazy? Oh, but it is true! We have predicted that the day would come, my friends. That one day, the Divine Creator would return to us and guide us towards our destiny as one!”

“Huh? What nonsense are you spouting out this time?”

———————————————————————

[Beyond the Wall, Parfaedia Outskirts]

White Mask 1: “They are approaching! Ready the flame!”

A cookie donning a white mask hastily walked up the steps to an altar and ignites it, a blue flame roars to life amidst the dark terrain.

White Mask 2: “The High Priestess requests that the statue is placed properly!”

More cookies donning white masks work together to push a statue up the steps, before the roaring flame. The shape of the statue resembles less like of a cookie, it was more..human-like.

Two cookies watch on the display, one wore glasses along with her white nun robe that covered most of her light mint green hair, Reverend Mother Cookie.

The other one was taller than her, wearing her nun robe, albeit it was dark red in color complimented with white that did little to distract her bright red hair and eyes that bore snake slit eyes, High Priestess Cookie. (or Red Wine Cookie.)

Reverend Mother Cookie: “Everything is according to plan, we shall be ready before the Divine Creator arrives…”

High Priestess Cookie: “Wonderful, providence smiles upon you all. Have any heretics try to breach the ceremony?”

Reverend Mother Cookie: “The nearby town of Parfaedia are in the middle of curfew, no one is allowed out of the walls when our Divine Creator is nearby…”

High Priestess Cookie: “Afraid of our Creator, still. I see that the land still houses…ignorance, for our Creator only wish to save them from themselves…”

White Mask 2: “They are here! The Divine Creator has blessed all of us with their light!”

The two cookies’ attention was drawn and they make their way to a fair distance away from the front of the altar, joined with other nuns. The High Priestess stands in front while the Reverend Mother and her fellow Sisters kneel behind her in rows. The Missionary Cookie hurried into her spot after arriving to the ceremony.

Missionary Cookie: “Ah! I hope I am not too late!”

Reverend Mother Cookie: “No, my child. You have in fact arrived just in time…”

The ground starts to rumble as the approaching giant draws closer, the High Priestess can’t help to hide the ever growing smile on her face as the rumbling grew more intense.

The sky darkens as clouds form, the heat of the flame mixing with the cold air causing a fog to descend on the ceremony. The rumbling stops and despite being unable to see far off, the High Priestess knew of the colossal presence before them.

High Priestess Cookie: “O’ Blessed Creator, of whom all dough is created! Long have we waited for this day for you!”

Lightning strikes the sky, illuminating it briefly to reveal a massive shadow looming over the ceremony, the upper half of the giant obscured by the clouds. Reverend Mother spread her arms outs as did the other nuns as they looked up at the sky at their Creator.

Reverend Mother Cookie: “Rejoice, my Sisters!”

High Priestess Cookie: “We had hoped you’d return one day, O’ Blessed Creator. We have prepared all of this in hopes of earning your favor…”

———————————————————————

You leaned down to see the crowd of cookies before you better, then you noticed the little statue they made of you. It was..pretty spot on for a replica!

You: “Not bad, that’s a pretty accurate replica. You, uh, sure are dedicated to me! Er…here!”

You hand them an item you had, a pristine cookie cutter. The White Masks carefully take it and took it back to a safe spot.

High Priestess Cookie: “We are not deserving of your generosity, O’ Blessed Creator. We shall continue to spread truth and wisdom to the ignorant cookies in the land, whatever your Will commands it~”

To the side of the ceremony, three figures watch. One was proud to see the ceremony had worked while the other two were more younger and more amazed by having their beliefs made come true!

Mille-feuille Cookie: “Now do you see how benevolent and generous our Creator can be? We have long ran away from their fold, yet here they are. Willing to forgive us for the ultimate sin of the first Cookies!”

Orphan Cookie 1: “Wow, so cool! I knew the Creator was real! I’ve never doubted it for a second!”

Orphan Cookie 2: “A-are you sure they are not mad at us? They must’ve been a bit angry when the first Cookies ran away…”

What the? There were little ones here? Was this their field trip or something? You weren’t sure how to proceed, but you didn’t want to make them upset either. You fished around for something until you pulled out three candy bars, extra small size thank goodness. You handed it to the three cookies carefully.

Mille-feuille Cookie: “See? Utter generosity that we are not deserving of.”

Orphan Cookie 1: “We are not! I’ll treasure this as much as I can!”

Orphan Cookie 2: “Thank you, Creator!”

You turn back to the main group of nuns and White Masks as they kneel and spread their arms out, Reverend Mother and High Priestess Cookie included as they all rejoice.

Rejoiced for their Creator.

Everyone: “HAIL CREATOR!”

[mayasaura]

I mentioned in the tags of a post that I think Harrow's right about Gideon still identifying as Ninth. As much as she hates it—and hates herself for it—a part of Gideon is Ninth and still craves the Ninth's approval and acceptance. Not just as an extension of her relationship with Harrow, but the Ninth itself, too, with all its cramped dark tunnels and bad nuns. A part of her still wants them to want her there, to see her value, just as badly as she did when she was eleven years old and dutifully tattled on Harrow, hopeful for some scrap of approval from the Reverend Mother and Father.

There are times she directly calls herself out for being Ninth, like when she re-hides the door to the Second's laboratory.

Or at the end of Harrow the Ninth, when she identifies her state of being as "absolutely fucking out of [her] mind Ninth House big pissed off.

But the biggest dead giveaway to me is the way she behaves when she goes back to the Ninth without Harrow.

Nice catch, your most serene highness, but we all heard you start to say "we". To Crux. The same Crux she later tries and fails to make regret having abused her as a child, and tries and fails to enjoy killing.

Gideon does sincerely hate the Ninth, and fuck knows she has good reason to. That doesn't stop her from being Ninth, and unfortunately it doesn't stop her from caring what the Ninth thinks of her.

[peterspinkrobe]

Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

[riboism]

vaya con dios

》 c.s x fem. nun! reader

》 wc: 6.7k

》 plot: a strange visitor takes shelter in your nunnery and challenges your beliefs

》 content: religious guilt, religious themes, first-time, pornographer! san, nun! reader, eventual smut, some angst

Tossing and turning for the nth time that night, you finally found comfort in laying on your side with your hands tucked underneath your pillow. You took a deep breath before shutting your eyes, counting sheep in hopes that it’ll help you fall asleep faster, only for you to reach fifteen before your mind wandered again. 

It was impossible to sleep after the strange day that you had. You had a visitor. No one really visited the Nunnery. You often joked with your sisters that the Nunnery was your own world, a place so hidden inside the natural world that no one could ever find it. That was until he started knocking on your front door. 

Men are not allowed inside the convent. The only time a man would come into your world was when Father Aaron came to visit from time to time, and even then he’d need permission from Mother Reverend to enter her holy space. You couldn’t understand why she agreed to let him stay the night, let alone even grant him access to our quarters— not until she called you into the kitchen and tasked you with bringing him his evening meal. 

“Is he a Priest?” You inquired as you prepared his dinner plate. You heard that Father Aaron was nearing his retirement. Maybe this was his replacement. 

“No.” She answered with finality, not adding anything further. You hated it when she did that. 

“Then who is he? Why is he here? I thought men weren’t allowed in our convent.” 

Mother observed as you placed a few fresh berries into the dessert bowl. She liked to make sure that we weren’t giving others too much or too little. She didn’t like waste. “He isn’t, but I had to make an exception. He’s a traveler and he got lost and stumbled onto our doorstep. With how dark the clouds are and how windy it is outside, I figured it was best for him to rest here for the night before moving on with his journey.” 

“But he’s a man.” You emphasized. “What if he’s dangerous? It just doesn’t feel right, him showing up at our door in the middle of the night. Where was he going anyway?” 

Growing impatient with your constant questioning, Mother set down a heavy glass, the loud thump startling you into silence. “Mind your manners, child! It does not matter if he is a man. God gave him to us to protect, and that is what we’ll do. Now hurry along, he must be starving and it’s almost time for bed.” 

Nodding obediently, you ventured off into the closed-off wing of the Nunnery. The room he was staying in was made for women who were interested in joining the sisterhood and devoting their lives to prayer and servitude. Unfortunately, the Nunnery didn’t get many candidates for the past few years so the rooms remained vacant. 

The halls here felt colder. You didn’t like being in this part of the building. The Nunnery itself was old, and with that, the building creaked and bellowed from time to time, especially in this wing. The noises would scare you, especially at night, but your Sisters assured you months ago that the next few donations would be used to help reconstruct the weaker parts of the building. Maybe there were still some renovations left to do. 

Upon reaching the visitor’s door, you knocked quietly and waited until a voice called for you to enter. You kept your eyes low as you walked in. “Mother asked me to bring you your supper.” You announced quietly, before placing the tray on the side table. 

He was sitting on the bed, looking as if he was waiting for you. Your eyes remained at his feet. He still wore his shoes, which looked expensive and hardly worn. Curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rising from his feet to his shoulders. His shoulders were wide and broad, the suit jacket he wore ill-fitting as if he grew twice his size overnight and didn’t have time to buy a bigger one. You didn’t dare to look up any further. 

After a beat of silence, you awkwardly paced backward to exit through the door, not wishing to be around the stranger any longer than you needed to. 

“Wait,” he called, softly. 

Your body obeyed before your mind did, and you didn’t move another inch. You waited for him to say something. Perhaps he wanted only tea before bed, or maybe he wanted to ask for some fresh sheets since the room hadn’t been dusted in a while. But he didn’t speak any further after that. Growing ill at ease, you let your gaze drift upwards until you finally met his eyes. 

You didn’t expect him to look the way that he did. He was young, maybe around your age. You had never seen a man without graying hair and deep sunken eyes before. Most of the men that came to the Nunnery, whether it was Father Aaron or his acquaintances, always looked weak, gray, and brittle. The visitor looked fresh and radiant in comparison, with his sculpted cheekbones, neat eyebrows, and freshly trimmed dark hair. He was beautiful. 

And then there was the way that he looked at you. You felt trapped in his peculiar gaze, your cheeks burning up after every second that passed as you two took each other in. His eyes wandered all over you with hunger and curiosity, but upon meeting your wide eyes, his expression quickly softened, his mouth that was once agape with desire now curled up to a friendly and innocent smile. 

“What is your name?” He asked. His voice was soft and pretty. It felt like he was trying to lull you to sleep. 

“You may call me Sister ____.” 

“Sister” He nodded. “Forgive me, I guess I had taken the wrong route and got lost. I’m eternally grateful to you all for offering me shelter in this unpredictable weather. And for this hot meal.” He beamed. “I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble. I understand it’s very late.” 

“No, no trouble at all. We are glad that you are inside and safe instead of out there in the storm.” On queue, a flash of lightning illuminated the walls, and a dull crack of thunder followed shortly. The sounds of crashing thunder and the strangeness of the visitor had you uneasy, and you knew it was best for you to leave the room right away. Mother wouldn’t be too happy to hear that you were lingering in the room alone with him, engaging in mindless conversation at the odd hours of the night. But despite your efforts to bow your head and inch towards the door, the visitor didn’t seem to acknowledge your rush. 

“It’s a shame…” He said faintly. 

“What is?” 

“That you have to hide yourself with all that garb. You’re very pretty.” His eyes lingered over your chest as if he was trying to outline what your figure looked like underneath. Full chest, thick thighs, slender legs, narrow waist, or wide hips, he couldn’t tell, but he liked that he didn’t know. A uniform made to hide the essence of a woman, to protect them from perverted and hungry eyes like his, ended up doing the opposite. 

Sensing your offense, the visitor rushed to apologize before you could utter a remark. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, Sister. I work in entertainment. I go around and meet with decently looking women all the time for photoshoots and whatnot. That’s actually where I was headed now, to meet with a few women about an upcoming fashion magazine shoot. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I guess nuns and religion and all that stuff…” He peered over to the wall that was decorated with a sole golden cross and then sheepishly looked back at you. “...Make me nervous.” 

Part of you felt he wasn’t telling the truth. You weren’t sure how to take him. There was something off about him, how he shifted from kind and unassuming to something that lacked innocence. You had a feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth.  

Ignoring his strange comments, you quietly bid him goodnight and then rushed off to your room. 

You wished so badly to drift off to sleep and forget about this strange encounter, but the visitor preoccupied your mind. Did he really handpick women for prestigious fashion editorials? Did he mean it when he said you’re pretty? 

No one had ever called you pretty and you honestly didn’t know how to take it. Vanity wasn’t something the sisterhood was concerned with. It was blasphemous for him to speak to you in such a manner anyway, but why did you kind of like it? 

Pretty. You. Pretty. 

Coming from someone who looked like him, it felt like a high honor. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. He’s probably surrounded by beautiful women all the time. And he called you pretty. 

You. Pretty. 

God has a lot to say about those who let their vanity get the best of them, so you decided to brush away those thoughts and say a little prayer. Even as you prayed for forgiveness, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. 

―

The skies were even more aggravated the next day. You were a little bummed that the trip to the orphanage was canceled due to strict stay-at-home orders, so you spent the rest of the day knitting gloves and hats for the children. 

“Ouch!” You yelped, sucking on your pricked finger. This was the fourth time you pricked yourself tonight. You couldn’t stay focused on your task. Your thoughts were all about him. You had contemplated all day about going over to his room and apologizing for the way you left so abruptly. You didn’t want him to think you were being rude. After all, there’s no harm done with giving compliments, is there? 

You wondered what he was doing right now. He was probably bored all alone in his room. Mother took it upon herself to deliver him his morning and afternoon meals, so you didn’t have a reason to see him. She didn’t seem to want the other Sisters to greet the man. Perhaps your initial apprehensiveness had gotten to her and she changed her mind about you going into his room. What if she knew you were in his room for a while? What if she heard you two talking? The sudden heaviness in your stomach made you set aside your knitting needles. 

Even so, you had a strong urge to see him one more time. Who knows? Maybe the weather will clear up tomorrow and he’ll leave without you getting a chance to say something about that night. It was giving you a headache, how much you thought about him. Was such a brief conversation, yet he lived in your mind like he owned it. You couldn’t forget about those sharp cheekbones, his sweet talking voice, and that almost sinful way that he looked at you. 

The desire to see him again was too hard to ignore, so without hesitation, you sprung up on your feet and headed down to the kitchen to ask Mother Reverend if you could give the visitor his dinner tonight. She was appalled at your sudden initiative, but considering how her knees were bothering her again, she decided it was best if you took the tray up the stairs to his room tonight. 

This time when you knocked on his door, it was silent. You knocked again a little louder this time, figuring maybe he didn’t hear you, but to your dismay, there was no answer. Stumped, you lowered the tray. Why he wasn’t answering? Was he asleep? Why would he fall asleep before dinner? Was he sick? Maybe there was no harm in checking in on him, you told yourself as you twisted the door knob and stepped into the room. 

He wasn’t here. The bed looked unmade and some of his things were tossed around. The room was littered with cameras and film. He said he worked in the entertainment industry, but he didn’t specify that he was a photographer himself. There were various different types of cameras scattered on the table and some by the windowsill. One of them caught your eye― a gorgeous camera with a wooden frame and a brown leather strap attached, sitting on top of a few magazines. Setting the tray down, you walked over to the windowsill where the pretty camera sat. It looked expensive, decorated with a small graving on the side. C.S. Was that his initials? It hit you that you never got his name.

You noticed some camera film sitting next to the stack of magazines where the camera was placed. You knew it wasn’t right to snoop. It was an invasion of privacy, not to mention that God might be looking down at you and shaking his head. But you couldn’t help it. You wanted to learn more about him, and so you let curiosity get the best of you and now you stood there in the visitor’s room with his film roll in hand. Upon unraveling the roll, you were excited to see beautiful women in next season’s haute couture, but instead, you discovered something completely unexpected. 

Suddenly, a voice startled you from behind. “I could get you an advanced copy once it’s printed.” 

You gasped, whipping your body around to face the visitor who had just stumbled into his room to a nosey Nun going through his belongings. Your cheeks flamed up, too embarrassed with yourself to even notice that his hair was dripping wet from his shower. 

“If you’re interested, that is.” He smiled teasingly. It was clear he didn't mind you snooping around, but you still felt ashamed.

“Oh, no, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” In the midst of all the awkwardness, you dropped the roll and it unraveled a few inches until it stopped at the visitor’s feet. He bent down and picked it up, examining his photographs for any scratches or rips as you quivered in place, struggling to find the right words. 

“I’m sorry. Are they ruined?” You asked finally. 

“They’re okay.” He assured. There was a slight glow on his brow bone and cheeks from the hot shower. The white button-up he wore stuck to his chest, revealing some of his honey skin through its sheer and damp fabric. He noticed you staring. You quickly looked away. 

“The women in those pictures…are they-”

“Naked? Yes.” 

He spoke as if he had no shame about it. To him, it was as normal as taking photos of a rainbow or a wild deer. You wondered what Mother would think if she found out the man she let sleep in her holy Nunnery took nude photos of women for a pornography magazine. It would give her a heart attack, for sure. 

This was hard to take in. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt disappointed. How could someone like him take part in such filthy hobbies? And those women? How could they degrade and humiliate themselves like this? You couldn’t help but pity them, those poor things losing their way and succumbing to promiscuity. 

The visitor sensed your disapproval. It wasn’t a surprise, given the circumstances. Still, he felt the need to defend himself. 

“I understand you have your beliefs. But I have my own too. You may think it’s ungodly and lustful, but to me, it’s freeing, it’s human…it’s female emancipation.” 

“Female emancipation?” You said in disbelief. How are pictures of women with their legs spread open a symbol of female emancipation? Was he mad? From what you saw, it was all sinful desire catered for and by men. 

He stepped over to your side of the room, carefully returning the film roll to its case. “Have you ever touched yourself?” 

“What?” You held onto the cross that lay on your chest, dumbfounded that he would even think to ask you such a question so bluntly. 

He chuckled, “I respect all religions Sister, but there are some parts in the good book that I don’t really agree with.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, what’s the harm in pleasuring ourselves? If we see a beautiful woman or man, why should we feel ashamed for having certain thoughts about them? Humans are sexual beings, why should we feel shame if we are only feeling human emotions and desires? It’s like your God is asking us to not be human, to be something else, and that’s impossible. Isn't this how he created us? That’s why these photos represent freedom. They rip off the chains of sexual repression and free us into our natural state. The women I work with love what they do. They get to let go and embrace their femininity, something your God keeps forcing you to hide.” 

He was closer to you now. You could feel his hot breath hitting your forehead. He was riled up now, finally getting all that religious guilt that he’d been holding in for years off of his chest. You stood frozen in place, mouth open but unable to form a reply. He dipped his head down, lips almost brushing against your ear. “Why do we have to feel bad about feeling good, Sister? Do you mean to tell me you never had fantasies? You never wanted to feel another man’s touch so badly that it made you go crazy?”

He had you cornered now. Your breathing got shakier as his eyes locked into yours. He continued. “You’ve had thoughts, haven’t you? Of course, you have. And your God made you feel like there was something wrong with you like you did something unforgivable. Well, that’s just not right. Live so long feeling ashamed, you’re gonna snap.” 

That was about all you could take before you pushed him away and took off. Now lying in your bed, you struggled for the second night in a row to go to sleep because your mind was still torturing you with thoughts of the visitor. 

His words replayed in your head over and over again. You knew he was wrong. Or maybe, you wanted to believe that he was. You understood his sentiment, but there were some flaws in his beliefs. Shame can be dangerous, yes, but it’s the only thing stopping humans from committing sin. God teaches us restraint, and what he’s doing is completely sacrilegious, running around like a wild animal and giving in to temptations in the name of free will. You wanted to go back, to tell him he was wrong, to alert Mother Reverend of the pornographer currently residing in our quarters so he could be kicked out, but you remained in bed. You prayed tomorrow would be a bright and sunny day so that he may leave and you will never be disturbed by him again. 

The clock struck 2, and you turned on your side, still too restless to fall asleep. You remembered the photos that were in your hands. They were so intimate, so close to her body. There was one shot that you couldn’t stop thinking about. She lay topless on a messy and unmade bed, a coy and inviting smile playing on her lips as she held onto her breasts. From the angle, it looked like the photo was taken from on top of her. Your mind raced with images of the visitor straddling over her naked body, hiding his head behind the lenses while she let go of her breasts and unbuckles his pants, never failing to continue smiling for the camera. 

The woman looked so happy in the photos, almost as if she felt comfortable around him. What was he like with them? What did he say to get them to put their guard down? Did he touch them after? 

Your stomach is crushed with guilt. You shouldn’t be having such lewd thoughts about an ungodly man like this. But why couldn’t you stop? Maybe this is what he meant when he said it was unfair for God to make us feel shame for thinking these things. It’s inevitable. You see it now. 

With your will weakened, your mind replayed the moment he cornered you into the wall. The wall felt so cold against your back, but being so close to him made your cheeks scorn. He smelled like fresh pinewood soap. His cheeks were still rosy from the hot shower, and his white shirt was damp and almost translucent. The water from the tips of his strands dripped onto your shoes. 

Have you ever touched yourself? 

You couldn’t answer him then, but no, you haven’t. You were taught that it was wrong to feel such curiosity about your own body. It was a sin. It’s a sin, you tell yourself as your hands slip into your nightdress. This is wrong, you remind yourself as you start kneading your bare breast, just as the woman in the photos did. Your fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, the new sensation making you gasp and moan like a wild animal. Out of fear of being heard, you placed a hand over your mouth to mask your sounds. Suddenly, you felt something pooling between your legs. You pressed them shut, feeling a desperate desire for something you’ve never had before. God, what has he done to you? 

You were at his door again. Your conscience was screaming at you to go back to your room, to kneel in front of your bed and beg for forgiveness, but you didn’t listen. You were too far gone now. It was a type of craving that you knew wouldn’t go away until you satisfied it. You knocked quietly so as not to wake the others, but loud enough so that he could hear inside. It felt like torture waiting for him to open the door, but once he did, you were met with relief.

He furrowed his brows and whispered, “What are you doing here?” 

“I want you to take pictures of me.” 

He was stunned by your peculiar request, but even more so at your newfound boldness. “Are you serious? Do you know what you're asking me, Sister?” 

He watched you as you freed your hair from its bun, letting your wavy ends hit your shoulders. He studied each wave, his eyes wide like he saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. “I know exactly what I’m asking,” You answered. “Now, can I come in?” 

―

You watched him from your spot on the bed as he configured with his camera. His hair was tousled, which you seemed to prefer over his neatly jelled-back hair. His shirt was unbuttoned now, exposing his well-defined chest. His skin looked so soft. You wondered what it would feel like against your fingertips. You prayed he would hurry before you changed your mind. 

“Okay. Are you ready?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

He took a step forward and met you at the end of the bed. “Lay down.” 

Your body sunk back into the mattress. He rested one of his knees on the bed, eyes scanning over your body. You felt hot under his gaze. 

“Can you unbutton that gown for me, Sister?” 

Slowly, you unbuttoned the rest of your gown, exposing to him your bare breasts. He licked his lips, your red and swollen peaks making him weak to the knees. “They’re so swollen…” He cooed, “Were you playing with them earlier?” 

You nodded again, a little embarrassed that he could tell what you were up to in your room just moments before. 

He smiled approvingly. “Play with them again for me.” 

You did as instructed and twisted the sore nubs between your fingers. They were so sensitive and hard now that even the lightest touch made you moan. The look of pleasure on your face was delicious, and he immediately raised his camera lens to snap this moment. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said between clicks, “the most beautiful one I’ve had.” 

You liked it when he called you pretty. It made you feel so special to have his eyes on you, to be the center of his fixation, to be his muse. You wanted to show him that you could be like the other girls, but better and even more obedient. He was your God now and you wanted to be a worthy disciple. 

Once he was satisfied with his shots, he lowered the camera. “Can I see the rest of you?” 

You didn’t hesitate to remove your panties and toss them on the floor, but upon realizing his watchful gaze and the intimidating black abyss of the camera lens, you froze up and pressed your thighs shut. You were upset and embarrassed with yourself for not being able to go through with it and follow his directions, but he was more than understanding. He knew that face, he had seen it dozens of times. 

“It’s okay.” He said softly. It all felt like a dream. His voice was soothing like a lullaby, and his warm and skilled hands that were rubbing your thighs made you disarm and ease back into the bed, letting him guide them apart to reveal your glistening cunt. 

He let out a low whine. “Fuck, that’s the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.” 

That sound alone made your lower half feel heavy. You wanted to hear him make that sound again. You’d do anything to hear him make that sound again. He leaned back with his knee still resting on the bed and held up his camera, pointing its lens at your slick center. “Spread them.” 

Obediently, you pulled apart your lips with two fingers for him, your slick juices already gushing down as you did. He sighed deeply, a pained expression overwhelming his face. “So tiny,” he breathed after the camera shuttered. He had never seen anything like you before. So virtuous and delicate, yet so sinful and corrupt. You gave him so much, yet he wanted to see more of you. 

“Think you can take those pretty little fingers for me?” 

It took you a minute to understand what he meant. You were inexperienced regarding things like this, but you wanted to learn. You wanted him to teach you everything. 

“I don’t know how…” You mumbled. 

A devilish smile crept onto his face and darkened his features. “How cute,” he chuckled, amused by the holy and virtuous nun who had no idea how to make herself feel good. “Come here, I’ll show you.” 

He sets aside the camera and pulls you closer to him by your hips. Your heart fluttered at the motion, and you chewed back a whimper as he held your thighs down. He scanned your core with all his attention, examining your small hole that pulsated as you breathed in and out. “You really never touched yourself before?” 

You bit one of your fingernails and shook your head no. 

“Oh Sister, you’re really missing out.” 

Taking your hand, he guided them to your core and adjusted your fingers around your throbbing clit. It felt so foreign to you, so wet and sticky, you almost didn’t believe that this was a part of your body that you were touching. He went on to press a thumb into your inner thigh. “Rub it like this,” he said, massaging small circles into your soft skin. “Nice and gentle for me.” 

You shyly followed his directions and gently massaged over your clit. It startled you how sensitive you were to your own touch. It felt so hot as if hell’s fire was creeping over your body, but you loved it. You loved the new sensations, how filthy and impure it all was, and even more, you loved how he watched you so intently. Eyes glued to your shameless center, completely forgetting the camera he was holding and the task at hand. He knew now, that this was for him, and not for the camera. 

He had been photographing for years now and learned to hold off temptations until the end of the session, but he was struggling this time, with his cock heavy and aching to be inside of you. He found it charming just how inexperienced you were with your own fingers, and how your sloppy and awkward ministrations still made your body twitch. And those pretty pretty moans, he had never heard anything like it. So angelic, so enchanting, he almost believed you were a siren hiding behind rosaries and veils. 

Mustering up his last bit of strength, he swung his other knee over you and buckled his hips on top of you, lifting his camera up one last time. “Make yourself cum.” He demanded in between camera flashes. He absentmindedly rutted his hips against you, the weight of his heavy and clothed cock resting over your slick pussy as you played with your clit for him. His pants seemed tighter now, with the outline of his full and swollen balls peeking through. With his hard cock so close to you like this, you lost your focus and eventually, that high you worked so hard to reach went lost on you. Now feeling numb, you sighed in both exhaustion and disappointment. 

“Oh, what’s wrong Sister?” He said in a playful tone, “Too scared of the lord’s wrath to let yourself cum?” 

His chuckle dropped once he felt your hand rubbing against his crotch, your eyes so wide and innocent while shamelessly asking for a lick. “Please,” you begged, “need help.” 

God, he cursed to himself. Did you even know what you were asking him? Or were you just too needy, too far gone even to understand what you were doing? Even so, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, if not more. He never had someone like you before. Someone so pious, so clueless, so pure. The girls he had been with were run through, and most of them had their tricks, but you were just an amateur. Not too long ago you were standing here with your hand on your chest, shocked by the nature of his pornographic career. Fuck, you didn’t even know how to play with yourself, and now you're tracing your fingertips on his zipper fly, begging for him to help you cum? 

For the first time in his career, his moral consciousness rang in. What was he doing? As tempting as it sounded, was he really going to defile a God-fearing Nun? 

He cupped your jaw, tracing his thumb across your soft cheek. Unbeknownst to him, this was the first time another person had touched you so lovingly. You leaned into the touch, reintroducing yourself to the warmth and fuzziness of his pinewood soap. “Are you sure about this, Sister?” 

He searched in your eyes for any signs of hesitation, but all he could see was lust. It was evident that you weren’t so God-fearing anymore. Maybe his words got you, he thought. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Yes. I want you to show me everything.” 

―

You watched nervously as he traced his tongue along your slit. His tongue felt so warm and wet, and you could see a few strings of his saliva connecting with your slick each time he lapped against your cunt. Both of your hands were pressed against your mouth to prevent any sound from slipping out, but it was so difficult not to moan and whine while he ate you out to his heart’s content. You had never felt anything like this before. It drove you mad how much of a twitching mess you were while he laid so carefree between your legs, lazily licking and sucking at your clit, oblivious to the heat that was rushing around in your lower belly. At one point, he focused his tongue directly on your clit, and the pressure from his wet muscle alone was enough for you to lose your guard and let a low broken whine escape your lips. 

He was so attentive to every reaction your body gave him. He knew you were about to cum even before you did. He held onto your thighs as your hips bucked up and down, letting you make a mess on his mouth and face. When you were done, he held your hips down and feathered a few kisses onto your cunt until you grabbed onto his hair and pushed him away. 

He had made you cum a few times like this. Each orgasm was even more intense than the one before. As exhausted as your body was becoming, your craving for him didn’t stop. It only grew stronger. 

It had been hours now. He moved so slowly, savoring each and every part of your body, making you cum from his mouth, his fingers, and even just by sucking your nipples alone. The other Sisters would be shocked to see you in your current state, your naked body soaked in cum and sweat, hips moving with a mind of its own. You were filthy but you didn’t want to stop, because if you stopped you would have to deal with the guilt and turmoil of your actions, and you didn’t want to do either. You just wanted to keep going, keep having him use you and use you until you broke. And that feeling― that momentary bliss you felt each time you reached your orgasm was unlike anything you ever felt before, and you were hooked, unable to stop, only interested in feeling like that one more time until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You were starting to feel feverish and weak, going in and out of consciousness until you felt his warm and heavy cock resting over your stomach. 

You peered down your body, gasping at the sheer length of his cock. The tip was so red and wet, already leaking precum and dripping onto your stomach. 

“What are you doing?” 

He took your hand and guided it to your lower stomach. “You said you wanted me to show you everything. You still want that right?” 

He helped you wrap your hands around his cock. It felt even bigger in your hand, your fingers just barely making it around his girth. You pumped him gently, using his precum to help you move up and down. He took that as a yes. 

You could hear his breathing go shaky each time you pumped him. “It feels so hard” you whined. Was he going to put this inside of you? How would it even fit? Would it hurt? 

“You make me this way.” He sighed as he watched you handle his cock. Fuck, you looked so cute the way you held him with both hands, trying your best to learn in what tempo he liked it. He leaned over, his large body completely covering yours, face just millimeters away. You gasped at the feeling of his hot tip rubbing at your entrance. “It’s San, by the way.” 

“I’m sorry?” You paused.

“My name. It’s San.” 

San. It suited him. You were about to tell him that his name was pretty, but he had taken the words right out of your mouth. A pressure pushed into you, forcing your eyes to well up in tears and words to clog in your throat. 

“San!” You yelped, hands gripping onto his wide shoulders. San leaned in close, leaving gentle kisses on your cheeks, his lips wet with your salty tears. “You’re so beautiful,” He spoke into your skin as he rolled his hips into you. “You feel so good.” You took him so well, your wet walls grasping onto him so tight that he knew he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually does. 

With each thrust, you sang his name as if it was the only word you knew how to say. His cock hit you so deep now, stretching you out to your limit, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You held him tighter and let him find your lips. You both moved with so much passion and hunger as if it was your last night on Earth together. He was all you knew and wanted to know. You didn’t wish for it to end. 

You felt a blooming in your stomach and figured San did as well. Your legs wrapped around him tight as you finally let go. Goosebumps prickled all over your body as San pulled out from you, his warm seed dripping onto your stomach. It felt like he marked you, that he had declared you as his for all eternity. You rubbed the sticky white liquid around your stomach, finally grasping at the realization of what you two had done and what it meant. San could sense your alarm and immediately reunited with your lips. He didn’t want you to regret this. He wanted you to look back at this moment and remember him fondly.  

The exhaustion weighed in and you drifted off to sleep as he kissed you. When morning came, you were disheartened to see rays of sunshine peeking through the window blinds. San was sitting at the edge of the bed, slipping into his socks. He was wearing the same ill-fitting suit jacket he first came in with that night. 

San noticed you stirring around in bed. He looked back and greeted you with a soft smile. 

“You’re awake.” 

You sat up too quickly and flinched at the sudden pain at your core. 

“Easy,” he said as he placed a reassuring hand on your leg. 

“You’re leaving already?” You asked, quickly forgetting about the pain.

San pursed his lips. It killed him to leave you after the night you two had, but he had his duties to attend to. And so did you. 

He took your hand into his. “Listen, Sister, I don’t know if you still feel the same about last night, but for me…that was incredible. But we both know I can’t stay.” 

It was the truth, but the truth hurt like a ton of bricks. Stupid girl, what did you think was going to happen? You broke your vows, and your loyalty to the church, and gave up the one thing you can never take back. You were ruined now, but you still didn’t know how to move forward. Did this mean you didn’t want to be in the convent anymore? Or did you want to stay and act as if you didn’t give in to temptations last night? Would you grab all of your things and run away with him and never look back? Or would you remain and pity yourself for the rest of your life for what you did? It was all unclear, and San knew that. You still had things to think through. 

“I know,” You said in a small voice. He couldn’t stay. And you couldn’t ask him to. 

“I’ll never stop thinking of you.” 

He was looking at you with doting eyes. You traced your thumb on the back of his hand. 

“Will I ever see you again?” You had to see him again. You couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing his beautiful face and feeling his soft hands on your skin. 

He let go of your hand and fished for something in his pocket. “Here,” He said, handing you a business card. “It’s my office in the city. If you ever change your mind…I’ll be there.” 

And with that, he pressed one last kiss on your forehead and took off. You lay there for most of the early morning, fiddling with the business card in your hand, grazing your fingers over the black raised ink. Choi San. Adult Film Photographer. 

It was pathetic to admit, but you think you loved him. And it killed you. You were only supposed to have the Lord in your heart, but it seemed you had given it away to a sinner. In such a short visit, he had made you feel things you had never felt before. You had never felt such strong emotions in the convent. The feeling of being desired, of being held, of being loved― it felt real. Tangible. Promising. Exhilarating. Feelings you were promised for years you’d feel each time you prayed, you felt all at once in one night with San. You almost believed that the Lord had robbed you of such pleasures. 

But then again, the convent was the only family you knew. They took you in, cared for you, and all you had to do in return was let the Lord into your heart. Serve him, alongside your Sisters, and blessings will come your way. 

Your feelings about the church were unclear, but one thing was for certain. In this lifetime or the next, you will see him again. 

―

a/n: I have been writing this since March. It's inspired by the 1800s painting "The Sin," and Kali Uchis's Vaya Con Dios. Please don't ask me for a part 2.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 6 - 1.8K WC NSFW 18+

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (you are here!)

Masterlist

Warnings: marriage, SMUT, biting, blood drinking, penetration, oral (female receiving), Feyd being whipped as fuck for you, L bombs, rough sex, fluffy ending

----------------------------------------

You smoothed over the layers of your dress. The black and red layered fabric made you look gorgeous, ethereal almost. All the sparkles and shimmers on the dress caught the light off the black sun just right. You still felt nervous but after talking with Feyd last night your heart was more at ease. You felt as if you could truly accept Geidi Prime as your home, and rule it one day. Maybe make it more like Succo, make it better. You looked to the door as it slid open, a maid walking inside with a small jar full of blood. 

“Who’s?” you asked as you lifted her off the ground with your magic, dragging her closer to you faster than she could move. 

Her shaking hands gave you the jar of inky blood, “T-the Na-Baron’s mistress…” she said quickly.

You held the jar, it was still slightly warm. You smiled softly, “That’ll be all.” you said, setting the maid down as you dismissed her. As soon as the door slid shut you flicked the lid off the jar, savoring the flavor of him as you gulped it down. You never got tired of his taste. You licked over your lips as you finished the jar, leaning your head back. The irony taste melted on your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut at the warmth. You saw flashes of Feyd’s body, like perfect ivory. There was nothing white on Succo but you were in love with the color, especially on him. You saw his hands running over himself, his rippling muscles before you heard a faint whisper fall from his mouth, 

“Y/N” 

It was the most seductive tone you’d ever heard from him. Wanting and whimpering and absolutely dripping with lust. Right before you saw his hand run over his abs and dip down further the visions stopped.

Tease.

“Princess. It’s time.” said a guard who you hadn’t noticed, so deeply lost in your visions. 

You followed the man, looking at yourself one more time in the mirror. You tilted your head up, adjusting your black diamond crown. The one that had been in your family since the full Sanguines were in power on Succo. The Cruor were fearless, as were you. And yet, this was quite possibly the first time you felt real fear. A comfortable fear. As if you were leaping into the unknown and hoped Feyd was there to catch you in the end. Before you could stew on your new found fear, the doors to the Great Hall opened. You saw hundreds of Harkonnens, they filled the hall and all watched as you walked down the lengthy aisle towards Feyd. He looked sharp in his all black ensemble. The Baron and Reverend Mother stood to the right of him and the officiant. Feyd’s eyes never left yours. You walked with your head held high, exuding confidence as you represented your house. 

The ceremony itself was a blur. You played around in Feyd’s mind. Blood was such a powerful conduit. The magic you wielded was a mere fraction of what your ancient ancestors had. You had yet to show Feyd the full extent of your powers, soon enough you would tell him. He thought the Bene Gesserit were strong, you would show him true strength. Your magic weaved itself through the blood in his mind, you manipulated it, echoing your voice. 

“Pledge yourself to me… my Na-Baron… my Feyd Rautha.” 

You saw Feyd’s eyes twitch slightly, flicking to yours and searching them. Your lips tilted up, finding his reaction to your power funny. You decided to take it a step further, playing out visions in his mind. Visions of your hands roaming your body. Your skin, soft and delicate. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You watched his eyes widen before fluttering shut for a moment. He cleared his throat, presumably trying to regain some composure. You stifled a laugh, deciding to have mercy on him for now. You listened to the strange Harkonnen words as you anticipated how the rest of the day would go. Well, the night that is. You weren’t afraid of sex like most would be in your situation, you were curious though. 

Lost in your own thoughts you felt Feyd’s hand on your cheek. You snapped back to reality as his lips met yours. You kissed him back but cut the kiss short. You didn’t want the Baron or Reverend Mother to assume you and Feyd held anything for each other. You listened to the roar of the crowd around you, celebrating their new Na-Baroness. It was truly done now. 

You are a Harkonnen.

---------------------------------------------

You entered your new chambers first. This one was massive compared to your already spacious chamber. The ceilings were high, everything was black. There were no windows in this room - or any of the rooms in this hall of the castle. You knew Feyd wanted to keep the black sun's harsh light away from you. The thought of him being so considerate made your heart swell slightly. You set your star disc down in the center of the room before activating it. The projection adjusted to the size of your new chambers. You would never tire of this gift, feeling this close to home when you couldn’t be further away. You sat on the couch, gazing up at the projection until you heard the slide of the door. 

Feyd entered with four guards, “Should we hold her down for you, Na-Baron?” one asked.

Your muscles tensed but your face remained still, all that let onto your shift in mood was the black veins around your eyes. They became ever so prominent when you felt strongly. 

“I can manage her on my own.” Feyd said, holding his hand up to dismiss the guards. 

They left quietly and soon there was no noise besides your breath along with Feyd’s. You relaxed slightly.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Feyd’s voice broke the silence, “and I want you to know I do.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, not totally understanding. 

He walked closer to you before kneeling at your feet, “I pledge myself to you. Completely. I am yours if you wish it.” 

The veins around your eyes faded, you felt shock inside. You searched his mind, nothing in his blood indicated deception, he was being genuine. You tiled his chin up, “And I yours.” you said before pulling him to your lips in a bruising kiss. It was needy and rushed, trying to convey the loyalty and love you felt. 

Love?

For some reason the word felt right. Once you knew he was yours you finally admitted it to yourself. Feyd pushed you back to lean against the back of the couch. You let out a small whine, “Why’d you stop?” you asked with a hint of irritation in your voice. 

Feyd smiled as he slid his hands up your thighs underneath your dress. He felt your body tense when he moved them to the inner part of your thighs, slowly pushing them apart. “Trust me?” he said, stopping his movements.

You nodded. Feyd buried his face between your thighs, ripping your underwear off in one go. He was like a man starved, devouring you. Your chest heaved with the new sensation. His mouth was nothing compared to your fingers. 

“You are divine.” he mumbled out, you saw his face covered in your slick and it made something primal in you lurch your hips. He took this as a sign to speed up his movements, attacking your clit with small circles before he slipped a finger inside you. You moaned out at the contact. Something akin to fire built in your stomach until it consumed your veins, your thighs clenching his head in place as you rode his face to get the most from your high.

Your breathing was labored but all you could think of was more. You pushed him back with your foot, shoving your dress off at the shoulders. He helped drag it off completely before he sat in awe of your body. Every curve, dimple, scar, stretch mark - all of it. He wanted to know all of you. You leaned forward, hooking one of your nails through the loop in his pants. Standing you dragged him to the bedroom before shoving him back. He watched you with pure love, or was it lust? You couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment. You dragged your fingernail through his shirt like a knife through butter. Feyd shoved his pants off. He was marvelous. Beautiful in every way. Every mark on his alabaster body entranced you. You longed to see him covered in blood. 

You climbed on top of him, pulling his neck to your mouth. You kissed and licked over the expanse of him. Lips kissing up to his. You nipped his lip drawing a drop of blood.

“You like to bite?” he asked playfully, wiping his blood over your lips. 

You licked over you lips, closing your eyes to savor him. “Sanguines were rather animalistic and primal beings. It's what made them so powerful. It comes out occasionally in me, especially since I was cursed with the need for blood. Something in me hungers for more.” you said kissing his chest and sucking harsh marks into his beautiful skin. 

“There is beauty in ferocity,” he replied. 

Your eyes met his, “Bite me. Drink me. Love me.” he said in a breathy whisper, almost begging you. 

Your hand grasped his cock, gently leading it to your dripping cunt. He slid in easily but it was still an adjustment. You shuddered at the feeling. Feyd’s arms held you close, he brushed your sweaty hair to the side. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, refraining with all his might from pounding into you. 

You nodded, slowly starting to roll your hips. You found a pace quickly that hit the most wonderful spot inside you. You were lost in ecstasy as you sank your fangs into his shoulder, sucking in his sweet crimson. The visions you saw were of you and how consumed he was with you. You felt it - love. He loved you, it was more than lust. You moaned out, speeding up your hips. Feyd couldn’t stand it, he started meeting your hips with his. You nipped at him randomly. Seeing his blood drip over his white skin made the fire in your boil over. “Harder… faster…” you moaned.

Feyd bit into your shoulder, drawing blood himself as he slammed into you at a ridiculous pace. You cried out as you came, shaking violently. Feyd held you close, licking and kissing over the bite he left behind. You looked at his chest, blood smeared and dribbled over him. “Perfect…” you said breathlessly as you licked over some of the blood. 

Feyd laid you down gently. “I will never tire of this…” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled, starting to drift off to sleep as the exhaustion set in. 

“I love you so, my darling wife.” Feyd whispered as he kissed over your stomach before pulling a blanket over you.

------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! Finally back on my Feyd Rautha kick. This might be the end of this series mostly because I'm not sure where to go with the story but if inspiration strikes I will surely post more. I hope ya'll like it - I know it was a long time coming for these two idiots to fuck. Anyways - hope to post other stuff soon! XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 11. In your hands

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, oral sex (m receiving), torture via Gom Jabbar, sub!Feyd, dom!Reader, BGSM

— WORDCOUNT: 2k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs

There are weapons you cannot hold in your hands. You can only hold them in your mind. — Bene Gesserit Teaching

She held his gaze and smiled. His hand had only been inside the box for seconds but she could already see it on his face. There was apprehension and excitement there and most disturbingly of all a hint of lust, but overwhelming everything was fear.

“Who did this to you before?”

“That’s my secret,” said Feyd in a quiet rasp. “Who did it to you?”

“The Reverend Mother.”

“Ah… Was she nice about it?” he asked with a smirk, but then his pale brows creased as the phantom pain began to tingle up his arm.

“No,” she replied, her thin smile widening.

She traced the blade up and down his taut stomach, more seeking to cool him than anything else. She’d never seen a man look down at her with so much fear… It was quite thrilling.

“What do you feel?”

“Itching,” he groaned. “Turning into… burning… into… Ah!”

The sound was gentle, something that escaped him before he realised. She moved the blade down between his legs as soon as he gasped, its presence no longer benign but threatening now. Feyd bit his lip and his pale head fell back, exposing the tense column of his throat. He breathed out through his teeth and through the thin metal sheet of the box she could feel his fingers moving, twisting, trying to form a fist.

“Shhh… Take the pain, my na-Baron,” she soothed, resting her cheek against his knee. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He should begin to feel his skin crisping now as if after too many hours in the Arrakis son. What followed was far worse, and to her surprise and admiration, he seemed to know it well. He controlled himself admirably all things considered. The blade turned to a caressing motion once again, brushing up and down the hardening length of his cock from the head that leaked against his trousers all the way down to the root. She pressed the tip against the swell of his sac with the gentle promise of penetration. Feyd’s head came up and he looked down at her again. His eyes were vulnerable. He braced himself against the bed with his free arm while the other struggled to stay inside the box.

“It’s not that hard for you, is it? I refer of course to you keeping your hand inside,” she smirked. “You like it.”

Feyd smiled his black smile but he seemed winded, consumed by something more than pain. Every now and then he’d frown with a sudden stab of something but his eyes stayed focused on her own, piercing through the veil of fire that by now shrouded him. She could almost feel what he felt. She could certainly remember it but it was quite a different thing to feel it through him, through the way he looked at her. The pain was theirs together. She kissed his clothed knee as she held his gaze, keeping calm for him, but underneath her heart was all aflutter, undecided whether she sooner enjoyed causing his pleasure or his ache. Feyd closed his eyes when it got too much and his shoulder jolted with the hint of pulling back. She bit her lip and twisted the knife against his loins, stopping him still.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “More.”

“P-please,” he gasped, his eyes watery when he next opened them.

She enjoyed hearing him begging so much that she felt herself begin to blush. Was this how it had been for him when he had made her suffer? Was it always so delicious to cause pain? But she could see his cock harden underneath his trousers, could almost see it throbbing with a quickened pulse, and underneath the tip of her blade his balls were swollen full of seed.

“You like the pain,” she said as she licked her lips. “And you like begging. Don’t you? Hmm? Do you like begging for me?”

He whimpered, head turning away from her as his hand fisted in the bedsheets. Even if she were blind she would’ve been able to tell that this meant more to him than anything else they had done together so far. His lungs burst into a quick sharp breath at once and his head tilted back, eyes closed, lips gasping open as he breathed his pain away. His stomach flexed and underneath her cheek, she felt his thighs were tensing. A flush of dark purpling blood bloomed underneath his skin, rising from the top of his broad chest up his throat and to his cheeks. His lips drew back against his stark black teeth and his nipples perked in keen excitement.

“What is it, my lord na-Baron?” she whispered, kissing up his clothed thighs all the way up to his loins. “Does it hurt so badly?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice breaking with unshed tears, but still he didn’t pull his hand away. “Hurts so m-much…”

She purred and kissed the swell of his cock, letting her lips rest warmly over the shape of it beneath his thin black trousers. Feyd whimpered and tried to close his legs but his figure was already unsteady on the bed. His fingers were flexing in the box again and he rolled his shoulder in its socket, and as she kissed up the throbbing edge of his cock she could almost hear him saying to himself that it wasn’t real, none of it was real, it was an illusion.

“But the pain is real,” she softly said. “It’s the only thing that’s real for you right now, isn’t it?”

“Mmm… Yes…” he breathed.

She laid her tongue flat against the length of his cock and let her warmth seep down toward him. When she looked up at him again, up the sweaty, pale, corded path of his body, she could see the agony there melding with relief. And although he was hard and leaking and he still felt her blade at the corner of his thigh all thoughts were chased out of his head. The air was filled with the sound of his sharp gasps and the little moans that slipped between them. Without a second thought, she placed the blade down on the bed and started undoing his trousers.

“W-what —”

Before Feyd could get the question out she had his cock in her hand and her lips were on the tip. He was so beautiful, like a broken doll. Like a precious thing from childhood — lost and now recovered. His voice was broken into fragile pieces, his body was falling apart, and in spite of all the pain she’d put him through he’d still chosen to obey. He was hers. She’d never had anyone before, not like this…

She dragged her lips lower down his shaft, moaning at the taste of him. He was hard between her lips and heavy on her tongue but sweet in that slick cloying way she’d gotten used to. His hips nearly arched off the bed and his free hand clung to the mattress. The deeper he sunk into her mouth the louder his cries became, and it was just as much from pain as it was from pleasure. She suckled on his length and closed her eyes, pulling him as far in as she could take. Feyd breathed heavily. He squirmed above her and after a few seconds he began to scream, his legs tensing around her shoulders. The nerve induction must’ve gotten to the point where he felt his flesh was melting, but he still refused to pull away. His cock was dripping down her throat and she wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him there, but from the weak and broken warbles he gave out, she was sure he’d started crying.

“Stop,” he whispered between panting breaths. “P-please, I w-want to stop…”

She moaned around his cock and suckled on it, tasting the saltiness of sweat and skin and the tangy sweetness of his seed. She pulled off of him for a moment to look up toward his blushing face and whisper.

“Cum for me first.”

Feyd groaned when she wrapped her lips around his cock again but he kept his hand inside. He was a good boy. Better than she had expected — and entirely intoxicated by the pain. Breathing deeply, sniffling through his agony, he sat up as firmly as he could on the bed and moved a trembling hand to the top of her head. She smiled at first, but then the fingers tightened in her hair and his grip hardened, and he pushed her down as far as she could go. She let the sharp edge of her teeth dance across his root but that only seemed to entice him further if he even felt it at all through the pain that shot across his other arm. Feyd gasped and moaned and thrust up into her with a hard pumping of his hips while he held her head against him and in only a few moments he was cumming down her throat. His cries filled the room sounding like a wail of death, but between her lips, he’d never felt more alive. With a painful seize of his whole body, he twitched and swelled and spilt his seed. She did her best to swallow but messy droplets fell from the corners of her mouth to lick across his sac. He hardly felt it. Feyd thrust up into her mouth until he no longer had the strength to, and then he fell back to the bed.

“Please, please, please,” he whispered. She could hardly hear it through the dizziness that rang between her ears. “I can’t… I can’t…”

She pulled herself up gingerly and looked at him. His hand was still inside the box. His cock was soft by now but still leaking on his thigh, and even on his back Feyd was breathing so heavily she was afraid he’d make himself sick. She pushed the knife off of the bed and well out of his reach as she smiled down at the sight of him, pale and sweating, his forehead creased, his plush lips bitten, his eyes dark with lust and pain.

“You can take it out now,” she whispered as she caressed his tense perspiring stomach.

He obeyed before she even finished speaking. His hand was trembling and he was almost too afraid to look at it, but he knew what he would find. His skin was alright, his bones too. It all had been an illusion, again. His knuckles were a little pink from where they’d brushed against the metal and the beds of his nails were white from strain, but it was still a perfectly healthy hand. She reached back to take it as she straddled his waist and brought the weak limb to her lips.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked with a thin smile as she gently kissed his knuckles. She felt wicked for toying with him that way but felt closer to him than ever before too, and she was certain this strange mix of emotions was addling his mind just as much as hers.

His eyes watched her, keen yet dizzy in the shadow of his lust. “That was… too much,” he breathed.

“Even for you?”

“Yeah… Even for me.”

She grinned and moved her kisses to the tips of his fingers, taking them between her lips one by one. “When will you want to do it again?”

“Damn it, woman. Give me a week, at least.”

She giggled and placed his hand gently beside him then slid down his body and off of the bed. With slow and loving care she pulled his trousers off and made him comfortable, put the box and the knife away, and took her own clothes off too. And while Feyd was still catching his breath and examining his hand like it was the most precious, vulnerable thing in the world, she poured him a glass of water. It felt strange to comfort him, to tuck him in and pull his head to rest over her chest. It was a behaviour from herself she hardly expected. If anything Feyd seemed less surprised by it than her.

“We won’t have to do it again if you don’t want to,” she whispered as she trailed a soothing path across his back.

“I asked for it,” he muttered, burying his face against her neck. “If I ask again…”

“You want me to give you what you want?” she finished.

“Every time,” he smiled.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Twelve

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: goodbye to Giedi Prime, no foreplay, fucking with ✨a view✨

A/N: I was planning on making this a long(er) installment but my monkey brain needs the instant gratification of updating the story😂 Hopefully Part Thirteen will be up soon, too. Thank you for being patient with me!

Amongst the hustle and bustle of moving, servants rushing in and out with your belongings and Feyd barking out orders, you kneel down next to the synthetic plant. You check twice that no one is paying attention to you before reaching inside, running your fingers along the inner lip of the pot and past clumps of fake dirt. Finally you connect with something and a triumphant fissure erupts in you at the sight of the fertility necklace.

You clutch it in your hand.

While you don’t intend to use it, it’s the last link to your mother that you have. You can’t believe you almost forgot it — it seems like a small eternity since your wedding. You had almost completely wiped it from your memory since you hid it, remembering only because Jessica and the Bene Gesserits were at the forefront of your mind.

You drop the necklace into a pocket of your dress before anyone sees it.

“Do you know what today is, wife?”

You catch Feyd loping towards you, seemingly having forfeited his supervising responsibilities.

“Mm, the day we get a lovely chat with the Reverend Mother?” You ask, distracted by the weight of the necklace.

“Surely you haven’t forgotten.”

You blink, then center your focus on him, on the fleeting look of smugness he has. “It’s today.”

Feyd’s eyes glint. He pounds his fist to his chest three times, drawing the attention of the servants who stop what they’re doing and straighten in response. You wave them away, grabbing your husband by the crook of his elbow and pulling him into the corner.

“Must you insist on doing that so often?” You chide him. “We would already be on Arrakis if they didn’t have to keep pausing for you.”

The grin on his face tells you that he is not even the slightest bit apologetic. “Can I not dedicate servitude to my wife on our anniversary?”

“Our anniversary of one month,” you remind him.

“A perfect opportunity to laud you.”

“You can laud yourself over there to help that poor man.” You indicate a servant struggling with a particularly heavy trunk of belongings.

Feyd narrows his eyes. “He’s fine.”

“Feyd-Rautha.”

Your husband considers your tone, then turns and delivers another three-strike salute to his chest. He’s darting away before you can reprimand him for it, snarling for a second servant to help with the heavy lifting instead of himself.

Shaking your head, you can’t but smile privately. It warms you to see Feyd like this, the charismatic, alluring side of him that you so rarely glimpse. He usually deploys it in political situations, a switch that he can flick on at will, but it seems genuine today. Perhaps the anniversary of your wedding has lifted his mood in light of his brother’s engagement.

Either that, or the fact that the first step of your plan would be initiated today.

You liked to believe it was the latter.

It’s midday before you’re called to receive the Reverend Mother, and sweat beads between your shoulder blades. To calm your pounding heart, you think of Caladan: the spray of the sea against the rocky crags, the rare peal of your mother’s laughter, and how it all had been stolen from you by those like the Baron and the Reverend Mother. People who thought their agenda more important than the lives of those carrying it out for them.

Your vengeance keeps you sharp, your smile like a knife as you approach the Reverend Mother.

“Thank you for meeting with me earlier than we planned,” you greet her.

She replies, “You said it was urgent, though I sense that, once again, your womb is empty.”

“Yes,” you say, stifling the urge to choke her with those stupid chains. Hopefully the saccharine tone of your voice does not betray your inner thoughts. “I called you here for a related reason.”

“And what might that be?”

“You were wrong about Feyd-Rautha.”

The Reverend Mother visibly recoils. “Tell me what’s on your mind now, girl, I do not have the time for your vague accusations.”

“How do you truly know that he’s destined to sire the Kwisatz Haderach? He is…unpredictable,” you say. “Perhaps your calculations are wrong. It could explain why I am not yet pregnant.”

“Does he know you voice this concerns?” The Reverend Mother asks with a sniff.

Your lips press together. “Of course not.”

“Keep it that way. Feyd-Rautha is just as destined to sure the Kwisatz Haderach as you are to bear it from your womb.” You can feel her scrutiny from under her decorated veil. “You were defiant before about your arrangement. Why are you questioning his authenticity now?”

“As you remember, you assessed me under the Gom Jabbar. Feyd-Rautha has had no such assessment. What if he were to fail?”

The Reverend Mother considers this. “You suggest that we test him.”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe him likely to succumb?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” you reply, “only that his capabilities have not been proven by your standards.”

“You speak as if this is an oversight on our part,” the Reverend Mother says, rising to her feet. A bolt of uncertainty shoots through you.

“I mean no offense. I am simply voicing my concerns, as you said.”

“You leave soon for Arrakis?”

“In a few hours.” You try to look sheepish. “You can see why I demanded urgency.”

The Reverend Mother doesn’t immediately reply. You’re not sure what she sees when she gazes upon you. When she finally does speak, her voice is begrudging: “I shall see that Feyd-Rautha is tested by the Gom Jabbar, though I hardly think it necessary to facilitate now.”

“But what if he fails? I am wasting my time with him,” you counter, perhaps too quickly.

The Reverend Mother must mistake the haste in your voice for panic. “I will visit you on Arrakis in one week. We shall test him then.”

You dip your chin, acquiescent. “Thank you, Reverend Mother.”

The Reverend Mother has no sooner left before Asha scurries to you, her eyes wide. “I overheard everything. It won’t be ready by then.”

“It has to be.”

After your disconcerting dinner with the Baron, you made it your top priority to mend things with Asha. Albeit, less messy than your reunion with Feyd. Asha was only too quick to forgive you and gush her own apologies, which you reassured were not necessary. You had explained to her the plan you created with your husband that very night, while lying side by side in bed, voices whispered, his fingers dragging across your skin.

You had uttered plans to destroy his family like they were sonnets of a poem, threaded with love and unwavering devotion.

Asha, of course, eagerly agreed to assist you with the plan.

“These things, it takes time, and without having an actual reference —”

You lower your voice as not to be heard by anyone lingering nearby. “Tell them I will double their pay. It must be delivered to me on Arrakis in a week’s time.”

“Okay.” Asha hardly looks convinced.

“The promise of coin is an excellent tonic for idleness,” you say. You allow a small smile. “I wish it would change your mind.”

You had invited Asha to join you on Arrakis but she had swiftly declined, ever after you swore a higher salary. You would do anything to guarantee her company.

“I belong here, Y/N,” Asha says, “I know it must be difficult to believe. I imagine you felt the same about Caladan.”

You stiffen slowly. Oh, how lovely it must be to make your own decisions and live where you choose. Subconsciously, you know you could order her to join you and she would have no choice but to say yes. But you would not sacrifice her happiness for your own. “I understand.”

“Are you…disappointed?”

Feyd glances at you. You both stand in the whirl of a thopter’s wings, the force of it billowing your skirts and the red scarf you’ve draped over your head and shoulders in preparation for Arrakis. Your hand sits on your forehead like a shield for the sun — the last time you would see it, a dark, unblinking eye in the white sky.

The light casts Feyd in sharp contrast.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“This…is your home,” you say, “will you not miss it?”

As if prompted by your question, he surveys the barren landscape, factories belching smoke in the distance as servants finish preparing your things for space flight. You think that he might not answer when he eventually says, “This place has always been more prison than home. I will be glad to rid myself of it.”

You want to reach out and grab his hand, but it feels wrong in this instance, when you wear your mantles of na-Baron and na-Baroness like armor.

Instead, you take to inspecting the same land that your husband does. You can’t even imagine the horrors he’s experienced here. And, unlike you, with your life scattered across several planets, Feyd had only known Giedi Prime — its cruelty and hardships and penchant for violence.

Though Arrakis is hardly a paradise, you hope he will find reprieve there.

“I can’t believe I’m going back,” you mutter. Your throat thickens. “And my parents won’t be there. I…I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”

“A soldier who dies in battle holding a weapon is guaranteed a place in the Heavens. If they were anything like you, they died fighting.”

You smile, blinking appreciatively at him. “I didn’t know you were religious, Feyd-Rautha.”

“I have little care for the Orange Catholic Bible. But there is comfort in knowing that there might be sanctuary for those who have spent their lives in battle.”

“Like you?”

You’re not sure what prompts you to ask it, but he turns sharply to regard you. His eyes scan your face, then the slightest of smiles graces his lips. “I’m afraid that there is no sanctuary for someone like me, jewel, but you’ve certainly ruined me by giving me a taste.”

Your chest tightens with emotion. You want to respond but it’s then that you’re beckoned over to the thopter. Feyd’s gaze flickers behind you and the moment is lost. “Be quick, wife.”

Be quick?

A pair of arms circle around you, making stumble. You automatically lean into their embrace while Feyd retreats to give you time to say goodbye, though you hardly notice with the tears springing to your eyes and blurring your vision.

You’re loathe to leave Asha here. She clings to you tightly, and you know that she wishes it could be different.

“You will come visit,” you tell her fiercely.

Asha withdraws an inch. “Of course.”

“And you will send me monthly — no, weekly updates.” You give her a stern look. “You will spare no details. I command you as your na-Baroness.”

“I suppose I have no choice then.”

You grin at her. “No you do not.”

Asha draws you in again, then whispers, “Your promise of coin worked.” She recovers, saying louder, “Now go. The na-Baron looks anxious for you to join him.”

“Thank you, Asha. For everything. You are my dearest friend.”

Asha offers you one last smile then bows to you. Aware that half of the fortress is watching, you spin on your heel and make your way to the thopter, to your na-Baron, and to your uncertain future.

“I can’t say it’s good to be back,” you report dryly as the heighliner descends. The expanse of desert stretches out before you, Arrakeen, shield wall visible just on the horizon. It shimmers slightly in the low lighting, duel suns casting a glow as they prepare for nighttime.

You’re escorted by a horde of Harkonnen soldiers in their all-black armor through a crowd of Arrakis natives. The handful of Fremen are easy enough to spot with their blue-on-blue eyes — you think them to be hostile of you, considering your Harkonnen marriage, but most regard you with curiosity. As you pass, you hear a rumbling in the crowd that you catch snippets of:

“…the Holy Mother of the Kwisatz Haderach…”

“I hear she’s no Bene Gesserit witch as they claim.”

“…does she already look pregnant to you?”

It displeases you, these vast speculations, but do your best not to reveal it. The truth of your education is not widely known. You were a shameful blot on the tapestry the Bene Gessrits have woven, and instructed by your mother upon first arrival on Arrakis not to tell anyone.

The prophecy foretold you to be part of the sisterhood, so that was the facade you upheld.

A Fremen woman twists free from the crowd. You’re too stunned to push her away before she lays a hand on your lower abdomen. Her blue-on-blue eyes shine vibrantly.

“I have touched the womb of the Holy Mother,” the woman says in a tremulous voice, “the womb which will bear our sacred Messiah.”

You stare, open-mouthed, as two Harkonnen soldiers grab under her arms and drag her away, still spouting heretics about your womb. The last you see of her is her feet dragging in the sand as she’s sucked into the crowd. Unease travels across your skin like goosebumps despite the stifling heat; you’re grateful to have worn the headscarf, as it hopefully masks your alarm.

“I should’ve had her hands removed for daring to touch you,” Feyd hisses under his breath.

He glowers the remaining way to the Arrakeen palace. It’s difficult to say if any of the remaining Fremen are eager to replicate the scene, but they’re surely discouraged now by your husband.

“That would’ve reflected poorly on us,” you say.

“I don’t care.”

You bump arms with him, stepping closer as not to be overheard. “You cannot blame them for their exuberance. They have been manipulated by the Bene Gesserits for centuries now. They believe our child to be their savior.”

A look of discomfort crosses Feyd’s face but he elects not to respond. Together you’re admitted through the airtight entrance into the palace, which is promptly sealed again. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you’re rooted to the spot by confusion.

The palace is exactly the same. You’ve memorized it from your long days stuck inside, but the decor and furniture are completely different. You suppose you expected to see it mostly the same, perhaps ransacked or destroyed, a standing tomb from the life before — not this, a space crafted entirely new.

The Harkonnen soldiers dispatch, probably to sweep for spies, leaving you alone with Feyd for the first time since your exchange with the Baron.

Your brows furrow as you say, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope it’s to your approval.”

“You did this?”

“I thought it would make the transition…easier,” he tells you. “Everything that was salvageable has been taken to a storage vault for safe keeping in case you later feel so inclined to see it.”

Gratitude swells inside you. “The entire palace?”

Feyd indicates for you to continue onward. He trails after you as you explore the halls, amusement etched on his face as he observes you peeking into each room for confirmation. It’s only once you’ve reached the bedroom meant for the man and lady of the house that he stops you.

“I’ve deigned to move our personal belongings to the next biggest suite,” he says, “this room is considered off limits.”

Relief washes over you — you won’t have to stay where your parents slept, where your mother would venture nightly from her quarters to slip under the covers with your father. Your throat thickens. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing.”

His gesture moves you deeply, but it’s hard to miss the streaks of residual lasgun burn marks on the walls, the unfamiliar servants now in your employ. And you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or not but you sense a heaviness within the palace as if the weight of the deaths press on you from all sides.

The intricate care taken to packing your belongings is now undone over the next few hours. At least here everything is in color and there’s a human warmth that was always lacking on Giedi Prime. You sneak glances at Feyd on occasion to gauge his reaction, but he maintains his casual indifference to it all.

It would be impossible to tell if he’s masked his feelings or if he really doesn’t care. Either way, relief loosens your mind when night descends and the servants are sent away to rest, leaving you alone with Feyd. There are no pretenses you need to hold — not that it would matter if you tried. His attention is already fastened to you, analyzing.

“Let me help you out of your dress,” he offers in his rasping voice.

You obey, turning your back to him so that he may untie the laces running up your spine. You suspect that he would normally make quick work of such a task, it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the process, but his fingers are clumsy, grazing. Feyd crowds close to you, his mouth hovering over the shell of your ear.

“Did everything go as planned?”

You nod, humming. It’s hard not to get distracted with him near you like this. “Yes. She will be here next week to assess you.”

“Perfect.”

“It truly could not have gone better,” you admit to him with a splash of self-satisfaction.

He drops a kiss to your bare shoulder as he eases the dress down over it. “I was talking about you, jewel.”

Twisting, you meet his mouth with yours. Feyd’s hands instantly grab at your waist and spins you the rest of the way until you’re pressed together. You allow the dress to slide down and pool at your feet, which you step out of as Feyd pedals backward, taking you with him. His kiss grows deeper. Attempting to take the lead, you tug him towards the bed, but Feyd has other ideas.

“No, no, come here,” he rasps. Like the tide eroding the sand, you let him guide you to the floor-length window. The glass against your skin is still warm from the twin suns.

“Here?” You gasp into him.

Feyd is too busy discarding his own clothes to answer immediately. “Let all of Arrakis see their na-Baroness,” he murmurs, mouth reuniting with yours with renewed passion.

His touch coasts down your side to your thighs, lifting you so that you can settle your legs around his waist. The vantage point giving your center access to his hardened length. Your body bows in response to him, ribbons of desire reaching out to capture you, binding you to him.

It’s without warning that Feyd drives inside you. He grunts as his cock splits your cunt, walls protesting at his size, the force of his intrusion. You bite down on his shoulder as pain intertwines with pleasure, muffling your cries until his thrusts have thoroughly slickened you. And Feyd never relents, bucking his hips into you with wild enthusiasm.

You’re not sure how it’s possible but every touch — every thrust, every kiss — catapults you to the edge of a precipe from which you willingly step over, languishing in the free fall. Someday you might hit the ground, but that doesn’t frighten you as it should. You would do it over and over again as long as he was the one to bring you there. All things considered, it was his hands pushing you off the ledge, prompting you to fall, to spiral down into the chasm he created — and his hands who ultimately catch you.

Feyd eventually lets you back down on your feet only to twirl you around again. His arms snake around you, hands cupping your breast. You moan as he pinches your nipples, rolls them between his fingers, his breath hot on the side of your neck. Feyd wastes no time returning his cock to your weeping cunt, using his knee to spread apart your legs.

It feels as if you can see all of Arrakis from here as Feyd pummels into you: the cresting desert beyond the city, the shield wall, lights flickering in the distance. You wonder if anyone can see you now, make out your blurred shape high above them getting properly fucked by the man who rules over them. The thought fills you with molten heat, pulsing over you in waves of pleasure as you imagine an audience to your fucking.

Feyd laughs like he knows this. “What shall we say when our people discover their na-Baroness is a whore?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you pant, “you’d kill anyone who even hints at it.”

He snaps his hip to you, grunting in approval.

It’s not long after that he coaxes your final orgasm from you, coming himself soon after. The lights of Arrakeen merge, brighten, as you unravel beneath him; the subsequent bliss of him coating you with his seed. Once he’s wrung his pleasure from you, he pulls you against him, your back flush with his chest. You stay like that for quite some time as you both catch your breath, looking out over the planet you inherited together.

“It’s all ours,” Feyd rasps.

“What an anniversary gift,” you reply, grinning as you watch him in the reflection of the glass.

“If you asked of it I would gift you the entire Known Universe.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Maybe next month.”

Part Thirteen

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1 @unnisumi

[austinbutlerslovers]

Update Feyd Fantasy Finale ⚔️

The finale will be split into THREE parts. 2 will be released ASAP 🙏🏻 and the 3rd TBA (all in final stages of being edited) I wrote so much you guys said let it flow. I’ve literally been typing since then… just awaiting my beautiful proof reader/editor ✍🏼proof reader @faegoddessog 🫦smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia 📖 plot consultant @magicovento

Here you are some sneak peeks ☺️ ♥️ (I split up the smut requests)

‼️Spoilers ahead if you have not read 1-4 ‼️

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4

Thank you for your patience 👌🏼☺️

Part 5 Endless Empire NEW!

Feyd Rautha becomes the Baron of Giedi prime and inherits all the responsibilities it entails.

The former Baron Vladimir on his deathbed was enraged at how well you corrupted Feyd. Implanting him with the idea to kill his own uncle in order to ascend as Baron ahead of his time, (keeping you together) . His nephews love and obsession for you disgusts him. But he still wants his favorite prodigy to succeed… just without your interference.

He lays a treacherous plot to separate you from Feyd forever.

Smut requests •Feyd initiating sex while you are distracted• Feyd denying you an orgasm •Feyd restraining himself to be gentle•Feyd addicted to you• Feyd makes love to you

Part 6 Brazen Baron

Feyd Rautha has a massive coronation. Excitement fills the air as his people look forward to a better future for the planet improving beyond his uncles reign.

Feyd begins blurring all the lines of his Harkonnen heritage for you. Everything he has been raised to value crumbles when he’s in your presence. You give him everything he never knew he desired and his infatuation for you becomes even deeper. His Lord in waiting takes notice and fears for his sanity and rational thought.

Will his undying love for you make him a great ruler or a passive counterfeit?

Smut Requets: Sex against a window•sex in the throne room• Dom Feyd •Sub Feyd •Feyd wearing a collar •Feyd being handcuffed for sex•Feyd being whipped(with a crop!)•semi public sex• Feyd BJ•size kink• Feyd willing to give up his kingdom for you• Feyd gives up his kink (what?!

Part 7 Honor & Heir COMPLETE

During your final month of pregnancy you and Feyd are summoned to the Emperors palace on the planet Kaitain by decree. Feyd is upset at any inconveniences to you with his unborn during this fragile time.

You reunite with your Reverend mother in the palatial gardens and a fated decision must be made. The stress of the decision is so great you go into labor. For Feyd his world stops. He drops all of his responsibilities with the Emperor to be by your side.

Requests: Feyd gentle with you•Feyd adoring you•Feyd forgoes his pleasure for your own • face riding• Bene Gesserits kidnapping plot•gender reveal•Feyd as a father

More Input from you guys: ✅Make it longer ✅More talking ✅Feyd loses his kink(Im crying) ✅Happy ending please

⬇️Thank you for the feedback! ♥️😍⬇️

Fic Tag List ⚔️

@faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @jessica987 @hardcoredisneynerd @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin@maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney @caroline334 @szapizzapanda @berlinalv @landlockedmermaid77 @sophroniaclark @moonsoulk @lolllulroofl @emeraldsgirl @larrysdughter28 @alana4610

[cassie48]

Ｄｏｎ’ｔ ｙｏｕ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ?

(Dark!Paul Atreides x Sayyadina! Reader)

𝘈|𝘕; 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭 𝘈𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 also 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰….

!Keep in mind all dialogue is in the native Fremen language. Also for this Jessica isn’t the reverend mother!

SMUT SMUT AND SMUT

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You sat in the prayer room, whisperers escaping your mouth. Before, you prayed to the Shai-Hulud, but now? Now you pray for your messiah, who goes by the name of Paul Atreides.

As you knelt on the hard stone flour, you held your hands together. You were all alone in the room, the others had left for the night, but not you. You felt at peace here.

You were so devoted to your job, always seen praying or worshipping your new mahdi. You had created a strong bond with Lady Jessica. She had took you under her wing, appreciating your kindness and how you believed in Paul.

As you prayed you paused, hearing a noise near the entrance behind you, putting your hands down by your side, you turned, and saw no other than Paul Atreides watching you.

“Hello” he said smirking down at you.

“Lisan al-Gaib, forgive me I did not hear you” yous said scrambling to your feet and bowing slightly in fear and astonishment.

“No need to forgive me, I interrupted your prayer” he said walking closer to you.

You gulped, you had never had a one on one conversation with your messiah before and you didn’t really know what to say.

Paul noticed your nerves and spoke again “I came here to seek guidance” He said continuing to walk towards you.

“Oh, well the reverend mother would be best suited for that job Usul” You said trying your best to contain your anxiety.

“Oh god no, I couldn’t talk to her about this” He said smiling down at your small face.

“Oh” you said unsure what else you could say.

“May I confide in you instead?” He asked trying his best not to smirk.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, the elders wouldn’t be happy I’m just a sayyadina. You’d be best to speak with someone higher up” you said, surprised you managed to get the words out.

“I don’t care what the elders think” he snarled

Your eyes widened, not used to hearing someone disrespect the elders of your sietch. You swallowed, not knowing what to say.

“Forgive me, that came out the wrong way. I simply mean, the elders pray for me yes?” He said, knowing your answer.

“I- of course Usul” you said nervously.

“Then whatever I choose to do, they will stand by me. I know the way, you must understand that?” He said, now very close to you.

You felt like crying, how could you be so stupid, you had disrespected your Messiah. “I’m sorry” you whispered.

Paul took your right cheek in his hand, cupping it. “No apology is necessary, now may I speak with you” he said, dropping his hand.

Your cheeks grew red at his touch “of course, you can confide in me, I will try my best to help” you swallowed.

Paul took your hand, and led you to the centre of the room, and motioning you to sit down in the centre of the circle. You stopped, knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“I can’t sit here usul, it’s reserved only for the Reverend mother” you said, fear evident in your rushed words.

Your reverend mother had taken on the role about five years ago, when the previous one had passed away. She wasn’t pleasant whatsoever, and had a grudge against you that you never understood. Even though she was the reverend mother, she did not show much appreciation or belief for your Mahdi.

“Oh please, I don’t see her here, what’s the worst that could happen?” He said laughing lightly.

“No, really I’m not trying to disrespect you usul but I can’t” you said making it obvious you feared the thought of even doing it.

“Why are you so afraid?” He asked, his tone now sounding angry.

You bowed your head down, not wanting to say why, knowing that would be seen as disrespectful to the Reverend Mother.

“Tell me” he ordered.

“I- she’d punish me if she found out” you said, your words coming out so fast he barely heard them, but he did.

“Punish you?” He questioned, to which you nodded.

“How?” He barked.

“She, she hits me sometimes, when she says I’ve been disappointing” you say, holding back tears thinking of all the times she’s slapped or shoved you.

Paul said nothing for a moment, fearing if he did he’d scare you, he had never felt such rage before until now. To think someone had laid a finger on you. You were his, and if someone hurt you, he would hurt them back.

“How many times had this happened” he said his voice cold and demanding.

“I don’t really know, at least once or twice a month. She says I’m weak, and that I’ll never be good enough to be a sayyadina. That I should just give up” You said, tears now falling down your cheeks, silently.

Your head was still facing the floor, embarrassed to even look at Paul, in your state. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the touch of his hand. He wiped your tears. His hand was soft. How odd, a man that had killed thousands, and his hand felt soft. He slowly led you to sit down where you had been so scared to before.

“No need to cry, that won’t be happening anymore” he said making you lift your head in confusion.

“What, I don’t understand” you said, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words.

“Do you know why I came here to confide in you” he asks, his hand still resting on your cheeks.

You nod your head no, he had never explained to you why he had sought you out in the first place.

“I did because, I had a vision” he began

Your eyes lit up in excitement and your heart raced. To think your Mahdi would tell you his vision firsthand made you feel special, something your rarely felt while being a Sayyadina.

“I had a vision of you, you were sitting in the sand, the sun on your skin.” He said, looking into the distance as he recollected the images of you in his head.

“M-Me?” You stuttered, completely taken aback

“Yes, you. You were by my side, my truthsayer, the empires truthsayer” He revealed, now looking down at your expression.

“Mahdi I- this cannot be true!” You said, your mouth wide open.

“You think me a fool? You think my visions are just hallucinations?” He questioned you.

“No! No! I believe you! You are Lisan Al-Gaib, I trust you. All I meant is, I don’t think I’m that important, I’m no where near as clever as some of the other sayyadina that are amongst us here” you said.

“You must believe in yourself” He said, feeling annoyed that you were so self-doubtful.

“It is hard when everyone around you tells you that you’re nothing” you said, offering him a sad smile.

“You are not nothing! You are everything” He said locking eyes with you

You filled, your cheeks reddening from his compliment

“You wanna know what else I saw in my vision?” He suddenly asked.

You nodded quickly, eager to know what else your messiah saw in your future.

“You stood with me, not just as my truthsayer, but as my wife” He said watching to see your reaction.

Your eyes widened further, if it were even possible, and your mouth moved to say something but nothing came out.

“You trust me right?” He asked scooting closer to where you were sitting.

You nodded, still not able to speak from the shock she was experiencing.

“So trust my visions” He said as he leant down even further his lips almost touching yours as he spoke once more

“Have you ever been kissed?” He questioned eager to hear your answer.

“No” you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Good girl” Is all he said as he leant in closing the very small gab between you two. He kissed you full force, passion lingering between you and him. He took his hand and placed it around the side of your head, trying to get as close to you as possible.

You finally began to kiss him back, once you had built up the courage, the whole experience was completely new to you. Most Sayyadina wait until they are “of age” to have any sort of relations with another Fremen.

You pulled away as fear entered you once more “usul I shouldn’t be doing this, I will be in trouble” you said your eyes glued to his feeling as though you had no control over how you were reacting.

“If anyone ever tells you what to do again I will kill them” is all he said as he kissed you again, this time more rough than the last.

He placed his hands around your side, pulling your body over to his, now plush against you.

You moaned, unknown sensations entering your body that felt extremely good. You felt him slightly push his knee into the gap of your legs and you found yourself moving your hips to meet it too.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth and you let him, his dominant personality showing.

The nice sensation you were felling grew when he pushed his knee further into your aching heat, now you felt it fully.

You moaned again, this time a lot louder than the last, again your body acted before you even thought of your actions. You rolled your hips against his knee and gasped when you felt utter satisfaction.

You broke away “what, what is this?” You asked as you moved your hips against his leg once again, not really knowing what you were doing, just knowing that you felt really good. You had never really been educated on sex, you knew it was something a couple did to conceive, but you didn’t know how it worked, or felt.

“It feels good, right” he asked you

You nodded after a moment, looking down between your legs where you saw his knee rubbed up against your core, that was covered by only the fabric your cloak, which was almost see through from the wetness that was leaving you.

“Then keep going, I wanna make you feel good” he said.

You said nothing else as he pushed his knee against you and you completely widened your legs again and your dripping heat now sitting on his leg as you grinded down, putting your head against his shoulder, as he held you.

“It feels s-so good usul” you whimpered as he held you tightly.

“Your doing so well, keep going” he said watching as you brought pleasure to yourself.

You now moved, almost entirely on his lap, and grinded down, moaning when he’d move his leg up slightly to help you out. He leaned down and locked lips with you again.

As you kissed him his hand moved down to where you eagerly wanted to feel nice, he first drew his fingers against your inside thigh, teasing you.

After he noticed it was working and you moved more desperately against him, he slowly brought his hand lower, to your core.

He moved his finger against your clit, smirking slightly as your eyes widened and your groans grew louder. Wanting to please you even further, he moved to place a finger inside you.

You tender up, the new feeling making you slightly embarrassed “usul?” She asked

“I need to prepare you before I make love to you” is all he said. You nodded fully trusting him.

You gripped into his shoulders tighter, muffling your moans, and he moved his finger in and out of your aching pussy.

He placed another finger inside when he noticed you were getting closer to your peak. You moved your hips down, meeting him halfway, as you muffled your moans once more, the pressure building upon in your lower tummy.

“Let all your sounds out. I want to hear. I want them to hear.” He said growing more possessive.

You cried out as you came undone, your juices going all over his fingers, he held you up with his free arm, letting you hold him as you came down fork your high.

He lifted his two fingers up and licked your juices off them, before laying you down and kissing you again, his tongue invading your mouth once more. Once he had you underneath him, he pulled off your long fabric down, that all Sayyadina must wear.

He smiled down at your naked body, you felt uncomfortable and insecure, no one had ever seen you naked before, you tried your best to cover yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself from me malak” he said making you blush. (Angel)

“I intend to know every part of you” he added and finally you removed your hands revealing your small but perky breasts.

Paul smirked down at the sight, you really did look beautiful. Laying down underneath him, ready to be claimed.

He slowly began to suck on your breasts, at first you found it odd, but then it started to feel nice, and you began sticking your chest up, wanting him to keep going.

He pulled away, making you slightly pout “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make you feel good soon” he promised.

He slowly began to move down your body, leaving kisses all over it as he did, and you smiled in satisfaction and love.

One he reached your pussy again, he guided your thighs away from each other and you swallowed, excited to fell nice again, but wondering what he was going to do to you.

He kissed the crease on the very inside of your leg, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, your legs moving impatiently.

He moved his head down even closer to your core, making your brows crease in confusion, wondering what he was about to do, but your eyes quickly widened, and your back arched when he placed his mouth onto your pussy.

He slowly licked it, collecting any of the remaining juices from your previous orgasm, before beginning to eat you eat, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place.

You yelled out, fidgeting as he nudged his nose against your bud. Your hands found his dark curls, and you tangled them within them.

You rolled your hips onto his face, that familiar pressure building up yet again “keep going please” you said smiling but it quickly dropped when he pulled away.

You were about to question him when he began to remove his own clothes and you sat waiting to see what he was going to do. Everything he had already done to you felt amazing and even seeing him without his clothes made you tingle inside once more.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck once more. You felt his hot breath on your skin. You wanted to fell even more of him.

“I’m gonna make you feel good ok? It might feel odd at first, but then it will feel amazing” he said cupping your cheek. You nodded, saying nothing else.

He slowly entered you, and you grasped onto him and you froze. This was not what you thought happened during sex.

“Usul?” You whimpered.

“Shh, your ok. Relax, it will feel nicer if you do” He told you, kissing your cheek gently.

You listen you his words and try to relax your body to the best ability you can. After a moment, he began to thrust in and out you.

Your mouth widened, you realised he was right. It did feel good, very good.

After a minute you began to move your hips with his, matching his rhythm. “Oh Usul” you cried holding onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you baby” He said as he groaned as well, kissing down on your neck. He matched your noises and you two moved together at a perfect speed.

“You were made for me, all mine” he groaned as he hit your g spot, making you cry out.

“I’m yours” you whimpered

You continued to make loved for a few more moments, and you locked eyes with him, his bright now blue eyes, looked directly into yours.

You both began you became rougher, almost sat your peaks, you began to cry out “usul, I’m gonna-

You were cut off, a voice of a women you had heard all too many times. The voice of a women that had hurt you, physically and mentally.

“What is going on?!” The reverend mother yelled, fury written all over her features.

Paul ignored her for a moment, both of you reaching your peaks, and he spilled himself deep inside you, and waited a moment before pulling out, making sure none of his seed went to waist. He pulled his bottoms back up and kissed you lustfully, before placing your dress on top of your naked body, as you tried to stay conscious.

“I’ll just be a moment, my love” he said

He turned and the smile he had offered you, turned to a furious and hateful glare, seeing the woman who had hurt you multiple times enter the room.

Thankfully, she had entered the room when the two of you had finished, but she knew exactly what was going on due to the loud noises both of you had been letting out.

“What exactly do you think your doing!” The elder woman yelled out.

Paul’s angry expression grew “I’m claiming my wife to be” he said watching as her face grew more shocked and angry.

“She is not marrying you!” The woman yelled once more.

“She carries my child, I will be marrying her” Paul said proudly.

“You can’t know that yet!” She yelled annoyed.

“Yes I can, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen my beautiful wife sitting where you sit now, a child growing inside of her” Paul said, knowing he was annoying the woman further.

“I won’t allow it! I am the reverend mother” She said with a smirk.

“Not anymore” Paul said matching her smirk as he watched as her face dropped.

Paul grabbed a nearby Crysknife and slit the woman’s throat, watching emotionlessly as she bled out on the floor, and died.

A nearby Fremen guard eventually came to the scene “mahdi! What has happened to our Reverend mother?” He asked with shock and worry.

“She tried to kill me, I wish I didn’t have to do that, but she was going to stab me” Paul said, his acting extremely good and believable.

“Thank God you are ok! I will alert Stilgar of this incident” The man said running away.

Paul took one last look at the woman, before smiling and walking away. He knew his plan would work. People knew she never liked him, and so it would be believable that she had tried to kill him.

Once he returned to you, he knelt down, pulling your head into his lap, playing with your hair gently.

“What has happened Usul? Who’s blood is that?” You said with fear.

“You need not worry. Our Reverend mother has had an accident, but I have a replacement” Paul said stroking your face lovingly.

“Really, who?”you asked, shock all over your face.

“You” Is all he said, as he picked you up in his arms.

A|N; I’m a quite proud of this!

I hope you all enjoyed it :)

[shegatsby]

Summary; Feyd has dreams and finally meets you, he is so overhwelmed by emotions that he paints a picture of you with his blood.

Words: 5. 143K

Warnings: War, fighting, weapons, kidnapping.

A/N: Hi guys! I had this one shot fic idea for a while, here you go. Let me know what you think. xxx It resembls your request to I hope you'll like it babe @ilikefeydrautha

‘’We’re under attack!’’  Your fellow Fremen yelled and with his voice everyone around you geared up in a second. Ever since the fall of House Atreides you have been in numerous battles with the House Harkonnen. At first Duke Leto’s son Paul and his mother Jessice were refugees under your roof, thankfully they grew accustom to your way of life and since then they have been a great help. With their help and strategy you and your people won every battle against Glossu Rabban, however, with the change in command you met someone new. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Baron’s youngest nephew. He was much more unpredictable than his older brother Rabban and much more vicious. One night, Jessica, now Fremens’ Reverend Mother, had gathered you and other important soldiers to give information about Feyd-Rautha and you felt your blood run cold even in the hottest planet in the entire galaxy.. he was psychotic. Since you were the daughter of a skilled warrior you were trained as such, and you had responsibilities; leading your people in these dark times. Unfortunately these dark times have been unstoppable.

The first time you had encountered him was at the desert.

You and your group had been trying to steal spice, well, it couldn’t be considered as stealing if it was your own planet.. the Harkonnen soldiers attacked. The open field had turned into a grave, crimson color spread on the sun dust sand which turned it into mud. After slaying a soldier you were pushed to the ground by a kick but you managed to get back up quickly, you were like a garden snake, swift and like liquid, but your opponent was a viper. He was covered in black head to toe but you could tell he was from a higher rank since he got some medals on his broad chest, a worthy opponent to kill and leave his body to Shai-Hulud.

You attacked but he pushed back, under the fire sun you fought, with his elbow he managed to punch back your helmet and it fell to the sand, your face exposed to him…

He didn’t attack but circled you like a predator who is contemplating what to do to his prey. He did something which surprised you.. he removed his helmet and tossed it aside. You took a step back in revelation, thanks to Reverend Mother’s description you knew who your opponent was… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself. The monster who put you and your people in this situation.

Why wasn’t he attacking? His blue eyes under the sun gave the impression of two shiny diamonds, piercing through your skin like the heat. As he circled you and came to a stop he leaned closer, you didn’t know what to do or to say, he made sure to leave a safe distance between the two of you but he was much more closer than before. ‘’Pleasure to meet you, desert flower.’’

The ships to help Harkonnens were approaching and your commander ordered for you and other Fremen to fall back. As you ran you could feel his diamonds on your back, mapping you, his presence made you uneasy and questioning his behavior.. why didn’t he attack?

After meeting him flesh and blood you went to Reverend Mother Jessica, you were hesitant at first, she was on the ground, you could smell the spice coffee she had, the walls of her room held handmade carpets, Jessica’s baby bump getting more and more visible each day, ‘’Come forth young girl.’’ Her voice wasn’t the same as the first week she had been with them, more in charge and demanding. ‘’I am disturbing your meditation, I shall take my leave.’’ You said, regretting that you even went to her in the first place, you were covered in sand and blood, your face burning with embarrassment and the exposure you had from the sun, Jessica’s blue eyes were magnetizing, ‘’Sit.’’ She used the voice on you and you found yourself sitting in front of her, ‘’I’ve heard you had to fall back. What happened?’’ Jessica asked, her question had under tones of deep curiosity for something else.  ‘’We were ambushed.’’ You shortly replied. ‘’You have met him, haven’t you?’’ with the mention of him Jessica noticed the change in your posture, you were alert. ‘’Be not afraid child, he cannot reach you here. Now, pray ell. What happened?’’

You found yourself giving each detail to her.

‘’So chose not to attack you… how strange..’’ Jessica was more talking to herself than you, ‘’You are dismissed.’’ And you left without getting any explanation of answers.

Ever since that incident you kept battling him or his soldiers, you were so fed up with the situation that you prayed to Shai-Hulud to end this war one way or another… you would come to realize in near future that when one prays for something one should be specific.

The second time you have seen him was at the skirts of the palace which Harkonnens had built 80 plus years ago when they first sent to your planet by the emperor. How you loathed the man.

You and your team’s plan was to provoke the Harkonnens by bombing their walls, creating damage and most importantly pissing them off. You couldn’t finish planting all of the bombs because alarms started to go off but that was enough anyway, it was close to dawn. Your fellow Fremen were brave and fighting the enemy like drinking fresh water… insanely devoted.

A bulky man was your opponent, he had a war, carrying it both of his hands, it was so heavy that whenever he missed hitting you hit the ground you felt its earthquake. You didn’t want to imagine the damage it would inflict on you.. imminent death.

‘’She is mine!’’ you heard a man scream with a raspy voice and in a second the bulk man with the hammer lost his head with a swift blade motion, you jumped back and fell on your arse, the bulky man’s head rolling towards you, you pushed your body back to get away and you saw him. Feyd-Rautha just killed one of his solider and stepped on his dead body to come to you…

You kept slithering back on the sand, the sky was getting brighter with each minute, the heat getting higher. He used his heavy boot to press on your ankle and make you stop getting away from him and you screamed in pain and cursed. With his heavy boot still pressing on your ankle he knelt down to be on the eye level with you, ‘’Hello again.’’ His pale face made him look like he was sculptured by most talented artist of ancient times, his shiny eyes never leaving yours, he then looked at his hand which was holding the blade and then looked back at you. His hand came to your face, you didn’t have your helmet, only a dirty scarf covering your face, except eyes. How did he even knew it was you?

With the tip of the blade he cut open yours scarf and revealed your face to him, ‘’There she is.’’ His voice raw and dominant, it made you shiver in fear and curiosity.

Your ankle was hurting you but you held your face blank as much as you can, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. How could he look so calm and collective while there is a chaos surrounding him, Fremens and Harkonnens fighting to death. You tried to pull your leg but he didn’t budge and it hurt even more, ‘’Why so hasty desert flower?’’ he mocked, you noticed the smirk shaping on his plump lips. You refused to give in so you kept your mouth shut, didn’t want him to get a reaction from you. The tip of his blade traced the strand of your hair, his eyes observing your hair like it was the most important thing in the world. Why was he interested in your hair anyway? With his other hand he grabbed your hair and pulled your scalp, you yelped. He cut few strands of your hair, you froze in your state, he lifted his hand to show you, ‘’Till next time.’’ He got to his feet and left you there.

This time you didn’t go to her, the Reverend Mother came to you, you were in your room applying a soothing gel to your ankle. As soon as you saw her you tried to get up in respect, ‘’Relax child, sit down.’’ You did what you were told. She came to sit next to you on your bed, ‘’I’ve heard some rumors and I wanted to hear the truth from you.’’ And you told her what happened, Reverend Mother Jessica looked deep in thought, calculating. ‘’Maybe there is hope for us yet.’’ She said turning to caress your cheek, like a mother caring for her child, you didn’t understand the ‘’hope’’ in question but these were dark times and your people relied on hope to survive for centuries.

And you were under attack few weeks later of that incident. Guess the Harkonnes needed time to build back the walls you had bombed. But how could they find the secret siech you wondered. Was there a rat among you? There was no time to think, you geared up and left your room to fight, ‘’Get women and children out of here.’’ You told one of your men and moved to the battle, in the common area of the siech your men and warrior women were fighting the monsters, Harkonnen war drums were beating so loud and deep, you felt he vibration in your body. You could see the monsters with torches, burning the messenger birds, birds that you had been taking care of… you found yourself screaming in primal hate and you marched to the closest Harkonnen soldier to kill, you were so quick the man didn’t even see it coming. You sliced his throat like it was nothing and kept moving, slaughtering men after men with your lust for blood your fellow Fremen warriors got the courage that needed, your home was invaded and you had nothing to lose at this point. Or so you thought.

You climbed on top of a rock to see the battle field, you could see Harkonnens popping up from every whole like a bug infestation.

You could also see how your folk falling to the ground, monsters were too many and you had to do something about it and you heard the drums change rhythm. He was coming.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen marched in with soldiers on his left and right, slaughtering men who stepped on his path. He walked like a man who owned the entire galaxy.

You jumped from the rock to keep fighting, you either won or die among your people.

Soon you have come to realize that Feyd was after you, his soldiers were opening the way for him to reach you and you kept changing your location, ‘’Get her!’’ the battle scene was hectic, screams filled your ears, you were covered in blood, you weren’t sure if it belonged to you or someone else.

A hand grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back, a kick came to your knee to make you kneel, you screamed in pain and looked up it was a Harkonnen soldier, smiling down at you like an animal.

Feyd-Rautha came, focused on the man who was still holding you by the hair, ‘’How dare you touch her hair!?’’ his scream made you look at him, with a quick move he cut the man’s hand and the hand dropped, the solider screamed in pain and fell on his knees next to you and Feyd beheaded him.

The man’s blood splashed on your face, you closed your eyes to pray, he was going to kill you, you were sure of it. You have heard that he loved to play with his victims and then kill them, he had play with you long enough, it was your time and you welcomed death.

A woman’s voice was heard and you opened your eyes.

‘’ENOUGH!’’ Reverend Mother Jessica yelled using the voice, her hands up she was standing on the highest rock, ‘’Tonight we shall end this bloodshed once and for all!’’ her voice was so demanding and dominant, everyone stopped and looked at her, including Feyd.

‘’Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, leave our lands, let us harvest spice and end this warfare, and we shall give you what you want.’’

You didn’t believe that this animal could agree on something and leave you all alone.

‘’My terms are this,’’ he began, looking directly at Jessica, everything seemed off putting to you. Like there was something behind this scene.

‘’I will have 90% of the spice. I don’t want any Fremen at the city and outskirts of it. ’’ He said his terms,  Jessica nodded, ’’Then you shall have it. Tonight marks the day-‘’ Feyd caught her speech, holding the room’s full attention,

‘’And I want her, as war prize.’’ He pointed to your direction, you were still on your knees. Your breath caught up in your throat, your fellow Fremen looked at each other in shock, an outsider having a Fremen as a war prize? No way.

‘’Then it is settled.’’ Jessica’s words cut you like a hot blade, you were in hypnotic state, not understanding what was going on. Feyd held your arm to make you stand up and you started to scream like a mad woman.

‘’No, let go of me, no, no!’’ you screams could be heard outside of the siech. Over minutes you were placed on a ship and taken away from your home, your desert.

The doctor inside the ship gave you a glass of water and within seconds you passed out.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen boarded the other ship after he gathered his troops, he had to go back to Giedi Prime, his servants had already sent his belongings back to his home planet, and after tonight he had to go back, report to his uncle and take care of his business there, he had been in Arrakis long enough and since he had established a good spice deal there was no point for him to stay there. He laid on his bed and as he drifted to sleep his mind was on her and how he got her.

Feyd-Rautha was having his breakfast when he received a message, the language was foreign to him so he had to get it translated. In the message it said that Lady Jessica was willing to make truce in exchange of something they both need. Feyd had sent his spies first, he tracked Lady Jessica and they met in secret. At first he thought this was a scam but Lady Jessica had promised to him that they would benefit from this truce.

‘’A little bird told me you have taken an interest in someone… Is it true? If it is then we can come to an agreement.’’ Reverend Mother spoke, there was a safe distance between them, ‘’What if I have? What are you willing to give me?’’ he questioned, his neck moving like a snake, ‘’Leave us alone, have some of the spice so that your uncle wouldn’t get suspicious and you can keep her to yourself. How does that sound?’’

After their secret agreement she gave the directions to the secret siech and they staged the entire battle. If the battle wasn’t realistic no one would believe them.

Feyd didn’t know why but ever since he saw her he kept having these dreams, she haunted him day and night so much so that he found himself drawing her on a gigantic canvas, every time he got a pen and paper he found himself drawing her eyes, her mouth, her hands.. he didn’t believe in coincidences, the universe put her in his path for something…

You opened your eyes in a comfortable bed, the comfort made you question your surroundings since you weren’t used to it, your head was pounding like a hammer to a rock, you slowly sit and look around. You were in a big room, the walls were black, also the furniture, the bed you were in was bigger than your own bed and the fabric made it feel like liquid running through your skin, your hand went to your head and noticed the dampness on your hair, you smelled your hair and it smelled like roses.. when you noticed your lace night gown you jumped to your feet, it was long and had laces, you ran to the nearest tall mirror and looked at your reflection, you had bruises due to the fight.. yes the battle. You tried to remember what had happened..

The fight

Reverend Mother and Feyd-Rautha’s agreement…

Everything came back to you like a running stream…

So that wasn’t a nightmare, you were actually kidnapped and brought somewhere you do not know. You walked through the open doors of your room’s balcony, the sun was out but something was different. Everything looked black and white and you were surely not in Arrakis anymore, how long have you slept? Most importantly who bathe you and made you were this gown, as you stood there watching troops walk into the fortress you were trapped in you noticed how black the walls of the fortress, this wasn’t a friendly planet.

The metal doors of the room you were trapped in opened wide by two guards who were covered in black, a bald female servant walked in, her head was low, and in front of her there was an another woman who was older than the servant, she wore doctor’s uniform but it was also black like other people’s clothing. ‘’I am here to examine you, my lady.’’ You were standing on the threshold of the balcony watching them ‘’Lady?’’  you thought, ‘’Please sit.’’ The old woman said with an authoritative tone, she was also bald, you immediately moved away from them, you looked around to find a weapon but the room was so basic you started to panic, ‘’My lady, please calm down.’’ The old woman warned, you started to scream like a savage and threw the lamp on the nightstand by the bed you woke up in, the old woman covered her face with both of her hands, she was carrying a leather bag, ‘’My Lady please, I have to run some tests and give you hormonal vitamins to make you more fertile-‘’

You froze, ‘’fertile’’ for what? Your panic grew more in your stomach and chest, the room was suffocating you.

You wished you were on the desert, the scent of spice in your nostrils, riding a sandworm. You threw whatever you could find, you didn’t even utter a word you simply screamed at them.

Soon the doctor and servant left you alone, you could hear the heavy lock on the doors.

You were marching up and down when your doors opened again, and you saw him. Followed by the doctor and the servant girl again, ‘’My Lord,’’ the doctor began, they were watching you rather examining you like an exotic animal. ‘’She has been difficult.’’ The doctor said looking him but Feyd-Rautha’s blue eyes were fixated on you. He was in more casual clothing, his hand behind his back, he seemed more in his element here, ‘’Leave us.’’ His raspy voice made you shiver, with his order they left the room and when the doors locked you were alone with him.. in a room where you are trapped.

You didn’t say anything but watched him, he looked around, ‘’Don’t worry you’ll be moved to a better place once I get things done.’’ He was talking as if you were his friend or.. someone close to him…

You refused to speak. He was walking around the room, ‘’We’re in Giedi Prime, my home planet.’’ He began coming closer to you, you found yourself walking back slowly. Being in his presence was something you experienced before but it was always in a battle, he looked so calm and collective when there was no chaos.

He came to a stop when he noticed your trembling form, even though you looked sacred you had this fighter aura, he knew no matter what you would be ready. ‘’Let the doctor help you, I chose her specifically because I don’t want any man to touch you.’’ His confession startled you, his pinky finger coming up to your face to removed a strand of hair away from your face, ‘’More beautiful close up.’’ He was more talking to himself as if he was in trance of a witch, ‘’Let them serve you.’’ His eyes moved away from your hair to your face. And with that he turned and left, his march echoing in the room and halls of the fortress.  

You let the doctor and maids help you, your maids explained that this will be your room for a while, they emphasized on the word ‘’for a while’’ you watched the doctor injecting liquid in you so many times, you felt your body like a puppet, being shoved around by people around you.. well.. if you could call them people. What made you curios is that man and women were all bald, skinny and the fear in their eyes were showed you the menace of House Harkonnen. For centuries they brought nothing but suffering to the people they own. And you were one of them now, someone they own.. not even a someone anymore, just a relic to add  Feyd-Rautha’s collection.

‘’My Lady,’’ one of the girl approached, she had a black dress that showed her rank, she was a maid, you turned to her, her head was down, ‘’You can look at me’’ this was the first time in hours you have spoken which startled the poor little girl, she slowly raised her gaze, she had jet black eyes, ‘’If you would like to see the fortress I can escort you.’’ Her offer med you smile in pain, even the servants pitied you it seemed. ‘’I would love that.’’

Together you left the room you occupied, you have heard so many storied about House Harkonnen’s fortress but nothing compared to what your eyes witnessed. A magnificent jet black fortress, standing proud and tall in the center of the city, walls, floors were mostly made from obsidian, Harkonnens didn’t understand much of furniture and decorating but they knew how to be intimidating.

Guards were at every door, the servant girl showed you the throne room, it was a grand hall with a black throne and steps to reach to it, you felt the thin carpets under your feet, ‘’They are human skin my lady.’’ The girl explained and you could feel your body freeze in disgust, ‘’Animals!’’ you muttered under your breath, ‘’Can we please go somewhere else?’’

The girl took you to the courtyard, you were expecting to find trees or flowers, even in Arrakis some regions had desert plants but here… you found none. Just an open space with pearl white floors and statues, sitting places and guards.

‘’Follow me my lady.’’ The girl said and you followed suit, you walked back into the fortress, this was a prison and you were sure of it now, more than ever. Your heart yearned for your home, the smell of spice in the sand, riding your sand worm, your community…

What you noticed was that as you walked servants bowed to you, and they kept calling you

 ‘’My Lady’’

You weren’t a lady, you were just a member of a Fremen family who were powerful and influential. Your ancestors were fighters and so are you.

‘’My lady, please wait here, I will fetch you in a minute.’’ The girl bowed and left her in a small library, this must be a personal library. You walked around and read the titles of the books, some were in different languages that you don’t know, some Chakobsa, your native tongue.

You loved the smell of books and tranquility this room held, you felt at ease, as you were walking around you saw a door, it was slightly opened, something in you warned but your curiosity got the best of you and with caution you approached to the wooden door, you were surprised that this fortress had wooden doors because they were mostly metal or stone.

With your left hand you opened the room and thankfully no one was there. It was a small room, as soon as you entered you could smell the carpet’s scent.. it was spice, most likely came from your home planet. The walls were also wooden and dark red, by the wall you saw a huge canvas, it was covered with a dirty white sheet, near the canvas a set of brushes and painting materials were on display, you wondered who was the owner of this painting room.

Your Fremen senses were begging you to leave but your feet approached to the canvas and your hand grabbed the dirty sheet to reveal the painting behind it and what you saw made you take a step back and inhale in shock.

The painting was mostly finished, on the surface you saw Arrakis’s desert, sun was setting and you were standing in the middle, in your warrior suit and yet your hair was loose, as you observed the painting you noticed the crimson color on your hair, you got close and you could smell it.. it was blood. Someone was painting you and used blood to paint your hair… but why?

Even though the entire situation made your heart beat in fear you were also in awe of the painting. Whoever did it must be a great artist, the details of you and Arrakis were uncanny.

You and the painting version of you were staring at each other, you were captivated by the entire painting when you heard the sound of the door closing behind you and you jumped in fear. When you turned you saw him, locking the door and leaning his back against it, his hands behind his back, a strange calmness on his pale face.

‘’You shouldn’t be here desert flower.’’ His raspy voice was low and serene.

His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed the knife scars on his hands and wrists, ‘’I should thank your maids for they know how to make dresses fit you so well.’’

And you lowered your head to look at the dress they had made you wear, a dark blue dress with open chest and back, the cut on the chest would made any men lower their eyes on your firm bosom. The fabric was satin and to Feyd it made every male being on this planet to crave to feel it on you and he loathed that idea.

You noticed that he put the key into his pocket and his posture got tall, now his hands were in his pockets, ‘’Do you like it?’’ he mentioned the painting but you kept your silence, you never uttered a word to him directly and you could see it was driving him mad. He exhaled in annoyance, ‘’Until I met you I have never believed in fate, dreams or any prophecies really,’’ he began approaching to the tall window, his back was turned to you know, ‘’What I knew was that the world was black and white, strong and weak, dominant and submissive…’’

You walked away from the painting and put a safe space between you and him, even if it meant you would be at the corner of the room, ‘’Before I left Giedi Prime to govern Arrakis I had a dream,’’ you could sense how thrilling he was to tell you the story, ‘’In the dream I saw you, all I thought was that I had a dream of some random girl, and that was it… but when I saw you first time on the battle field…  when your helmet fell off I didn’t know what to do desert flower, there you were.. the girl from my dream.’’

‘’That’s why you didn’t attack me.’’ You gasped in shock, your folk believed in dreams and prophecies but you had never expected to find yourself in one. As soon as you spoke he turned to you with a smile, a brutal smile on his plump lips, ‘’Yes!’’ he exclaimed with such happiness it confused you, ‘’I have spoken to every Bene Gesserit that I could find and finally Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam came to my rescue…’’

He was starting to take steps towards you, your feet moved to the back and you felt your back make contact with the cold wooden wall, you felt the shiver but you didn’t know if it was because of the wall or his dark aura approaching.  He came to a stop, just few inches between you and him, you had to look up to meet his blue eyes, his eyes were naturally blue not because of spice and it was the first example you have seen in your life. You remembered the oceans Paul told you one night, if those oceans were true than they have a competition because his eyes were more alluring than any ocean can offer. Up this close you could smell his body, gun powder and mint, it was strong.

‘’I had to have you desert flower,’’ back of his fingers traced your cheek and you could feel your face heat up with the tender action. ‘’We are meant to be together. Can’t you see?’’ he started to sound irritated when you didn’t reply to him, you could only stare at his ocean eyes, he pulled you to face the painting, he was standing behind you, one of his hand wrapped around your waist and pulling you to his front body, ‘’Look at her, such a strong and wild creature,’’ he mentioned the painting, ‘’you and I, we are meant to rule Arrakis, two bodies one soul.’’ He had a point, you looked very courageous in the painting. His other hand went to caress your hair, you could feel his nose, smelling.

‘’Say something.’’ He said with a sharp tone, he turned you to face him, holding you by your upper arms, shaking you, ‘’Say something!’’ he raised his voice and when he saw how sacred you were you witnessed the sorrow in his eyes, ‘’I apologies you must be-‘’

‘’Yes.’’ You replied and his orbits grew large with satisfaction, ‘’I will be on your side.’’

''Prove it.'' he said desperately, you lookd around and found a tiny knife, you cut your palm looking into his eyes, and held his hand to cut his palm as well, blood was dripping but you didn't care. You entwined your hands together. With a pleaseing smile he leaned in for a kiss.

Thank you so much for reading. :)

[thevampiremarie]

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani)

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

PART I: JESSICA

Lady Jessica focused her intent gaze on the Reverend-Mother’s... gift. This gaze, to which the minutiae of observation was second nature rather than practiced pretense, followed the lines of the girl-child’s high cheekbones up towards large eyes that appeared to overwhelm the face they were set in.

She’d seen that look in those eyes before. Perhaps a thousand times over, a million times over. Reflected in the mirror back at her on Wallach IX, reflected in the shadowed eyes of the girls she barely remembered. The girls that one by one fell, until amongst a hundred girls there stood five Bene Gesserit.

Jessica’s skirt rustled against the floor as she stalked closer, circling the child, examining every angle.

How interesting.

Such control in the child’s bearing, belied by such fear.

Paul had always been fascinated with off-world animals in the filmbooks; the agrarian creatures that inhabited Caladan for over twenty generations bore no thrill to her clever son. Jessica had never understood his fascination as the filmbooks rendered such organisms dead to her. Mere simulacrums of life with soulless eyes.

Perhaps one such simulacrum stood before her now in the form of a human girl. “Reverend-Mother, does she have a name?”

“We call her Chryse. However, if that name does not suit you, Jessica, you may name her as you wish. It is of no consequence to us.” Reverend-Mother Mohiam’s demeanor certainly hadn’t changed in the slightest from the days when she served her overtly. When Gaius Helen Mohiam spoke, everything from her inscrutable countenance to the even tones of her voice commanded subservience. “You will not harm nor bring harm to the girl-child. It is our one order.”

Jessica watched as Mohiam brushed her fingers against Chryse’s jaw to tilt her still face up towards the sallow light of the glow-globe. Not even a muscle twitched in her smooth facade. Jessica wondered what sort of chaos lay beneath, whether the girl would be like the jagged rocks under the beckoning surface of Caladan’s oceans. Only a fool would dive into the dark water blindly.

There was no other option but to acquiesce. “You have my word. She shall not come to harm under my care or the care of House Atreides.”

“Good.” A look passed between them, lasting only a second. Within that second lay an eternity.

The Reverend-Mother strode from the room with an economical gait, not sparing another iota of energy to look back.

Jessica knew then the precise nature of this “present”.

How many men had failed in the making of the Kwisatz Haderach? How many years, decades, centuries had her sisters carefully tended the most sacred plant, a mind that could bridge space and time. If Paul failed -

She stopped that fearful thought in its tracks, held it in the cradle of her mind’s eye, then let it pass through.

The Bene Gesserit were patient like mountains were patient. Time was an endless resource. It was better to cultivate many plants of good stock than to nurture a small garden and watch as its leaves shrivel and diel. Chryse was not and could never be the Kwisatz Haderach. Perhaps that fact ought to have assuaged Jessica’s fear. Yet - if Paul should die while he was only eleven, the House of Atreides forever extinguished, the child seemed poised to become the next vessel to carry the bloodline of the Kwisatz Haderach. Only ten years old, and she had mastered the prana-bindu like an adept three times her age. Who knew what sort of terror she had been bred to create?

Her son had already shown promise even without her training. Paul might flourish, grow into a man, grow into the mind that the universe needed. That would never come to pass if Chryse supplanted him.

Mohiam must have felt some minute degree of affection towards Jessica. If she hadn’t, the Reverend-Mother would not have left the girl in her care. The blade was double-edged; the Bene Gesserit cared not for which of the two survived, only that one of them did. Motherhood had softened Jessica to the point where she felt some empathy for her poor charge. Not enough empathy to entirely stay her hand, but enough that she wanted the girl to live. Enough that she intended to lift the burden of killing her from Paul’s narrow shoulders.

“Come here, girl.” Once she was close enough that the Bene Gesserit-trained woman could stretch out a single, finely-boned hand and press her fingers to the weapon’s temple, she bade her stop.

Jessica brushed her mind carefully up against Chryse’s, wary of the mind traps the girl had surely been taught from birth.

There were no traps. Not even a token protest.

Chryse had fewer defenses than a newborn infant. Her mind was splayed out in the open; even the slightest whisper of Voice guaranteed complete obedience. The Bene Gesserit had truly forged a weapon of a girl. She hadn’t a psyche of her own - where there should lay a personality was instead filled with iron bars of mind conditioning. Jessica’s heart ached for her. No child deserved to live like that.

A moment passed wherein she further plumbed the depths of her mind. Jessica knew then that Chryse could never use a Voice of her own. The same breeding that had left her mind wide open had left her unable to Speak. But of what use to the lineage of the Kwisatz Haderach was a girl entirely unable to use the Voice and critically susceptible to it?

The vision came on suddenly, as the waves did against the shores of Caladan. A figure whirled amongst dozens of men as they fell to their knees. The lady knew those movements by heart even though they felt wrong. It was the Weirding Way, without a doubt. At the same time, every action was utterly alien. Chryse moved through the battlefield like a valkyrie of old with hands that created ruination with every twitch. Her deficit of Voice was more than made up by her complete mastery over the physical realities of others. Lungs collapsed inwards; hearts refused to beat; nerves froze. Blood. Oceans of blood.

Without meaning to, her fingers fell away from the girl’s temple in astonishment and the vision dissipated like morning mist.

The Kwisatz Mother had bred an abomination.

The laws of nature should have forbidden such a being from coming into existence. No doubt, she wouldn’t have without the careful guidance of the Bene Gesserit. What infinite combination of genes could produce a person who could bend human bodies to their will? A weapon to be wielded against the very molecules of anatomy? Chryse had quite a bit further to go before she would become the war goddess Jessica saw in her vision, but her raw talent remained a cudgel poised over Paul’s head and ready to end his life.

This was an unacceptable outcome.

Forgive me, Jessica thought; forgive me for what I must do. “You will never harm Paul Atreides. You will never allow harm to come to Paul Atreides. You will always remain loyal to him and never betray him in the slightest. You will lay down your life for him.” She swallowed down her guilt as she watched her Voice take root in the blank shell of the young girl’s mind. That Chryse was now freed from Bene Gesserit absolute control was a small consolation for the crime done against her. For Paul to live, this girl must be subjugated.

Her wide, dark eyes blinked. There it was - a tiny spark of life in her young, solemn face. Chryse was just a girl. A young one, at that. Innocent. Guilt ensnared Jessica’s heart and held it in a chokehold. The sisterhood had not completely uprooted her weak personality, but there was no doubt that their conditioning program left permanent scars. Jessica’s Voice would not have affected Chryse nearly as much without it.

The lady resolved always to be tender to the girl. At a minimum, she could improve the quality of Chryse’s life. Jessica told herself this as she called for servants to take the girl, bathe her, dress her, and prepare a chamber for her near Paul’s. Was it so selfish of her to want her son to live? At any cost? Paul’s new companion would always be treated well and never punished. There were worse fates. For the Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit could commit any number of sins.

But Jessica knew her mind and herself. This was a blood debt that she could never repay.

Paul would be safe, and the girl’s powers would never be used against him. That would be her consolation.

-

Her palms smoothed over the muscled plains of Leto’s back. The Duke was her husband in all but name, and Jessica reveled in how he relaxed at her touch. At the school on Wallach IX, she’d learned everything but the warmth of trust and partnership built from deep, mutual love. There was no room in the lives of the Bene Gesserit for any kind of love besides the love of the sisterhood. It was this trust and love that had led Jessica to birth Leto a male heir instead of the daughters she’d been commanded to produce.

Leto reluctantly pulled himself away from her to pick through some papers strewn across his desk. “What’s this I hear about a new handmaiden joining our household?” 

Involuntarily, Jessica inhaled. “Ah, my new charge. Chryse. An orphan, Bene Gesserit trained but not suited to the task. Reverend-Mother Mohiam, the Imperial truth-sayer, has entrusted her safety to me.” She kept her hands out of Leto’s line of sight so he couldn’t see the tension in her white knuckles. Ever so slowly, the lady exhaled. Again, guilt. The guilt threatened to consume her whole.

Her husband had always been far too intuitive for his own good. “She is young.” Sometimes a conversation with him was like playing chess. Every word, every tone, every movement playing off those of the other. Jessica enjoyed such a conversation far more when the stakes were not nearly as high. Perhaps he knew even subconsciously what she felt, what she had done.

Jessica let the silence in the air hang.

Leto sat at his desk, his brown eyes never leaving her smooth face.

She conceded first. “It will be some time before the girl will serve as my handmaiden in truth, but is she not of an age with Paul?” Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. A certainty presented as a question even though she had already decided the answer.

With no other child from her in sight and no political marriage alliance contracted to provide others, her son remained at the forefront of his father’s concerns. “Paul must keep his attention turned towards his lessons. I trust you, Jessica. He cannot be distracted.” Leto was known to others as inscrutable and honorable. She could read every emotion that flickered across his handsome face. He was worried; that much was plain. He was worried about what the legacy he’d built and the enemies he made might do to his kind son. His only son.

Even though he would never know it, the solution to his worries was close at hand. “My love, every child needs a companion. There are no children of an age with Paul on Caladan and certainly none suitable for his station. I’ve seen his loneliness. I know you have too.” The truth in her words was undeniable. Only eleven years old, and Paul had never known a friend his age on Caladan. He glued himself to his filmbooks and the stories of Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Leto cared for more than just raising an heir. Jessica knew he loved Paul. He worried about his well-being. Her husband would grant her this wish. Check.

“What better place for a friend than a girl in his mother’s service? They won’t have to be parted for quite some time. And there is no better judge of caliber than the Bene Gesserit.”

His resigned sigh echoed in the quiet of his study. Checkmate. “You’re right.” Leto’s footsteps as he got up and drew closer to her were a comforting rhythm. She knew that rhythm by heart.

“I do tend to be.” The impulse to feel the rhythm of his pulse beneath her hands overtook her, and she let it. Jessica reached out to press herself to him. Her Duke responded in kind as he gently drew her arms around his neck and brushed his forehead against hers.

It was more than enough sometimes to breathe in the same air as her beloved. To know that she shared space, time, and life with him.

Leto pressed a kiss to her mouth. Without any further words, he left the room.

Her fingers pressed against her closed eyes as if to alleviate the burden she’d taken upon herself. All of this would be justified in the end. Jessica had to keep faith in that.

Reposting this unfinished dune fic i started during the 1st movie and orphaned on ao3! Seems as if there's interest. LMK if you want on the tag list.