#it was so painful 😭😭 why was it stabbing into my wrists and the back of my neck like that

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

[blacklegsanjiii]

Thpughts on the RLS!Siblings?? 👀

Mostly about how funny would be some interactions with RLS + ASL siblings bc y'know, lusan. Like, they doing a "family dinner" kinda thing, but with much much caos and Luffy loving his boyfriend :)

Also, I love your posts! Your Misora fic is amazing, I reread at least two chapters everyday 😭❤

Ah, I'm glad you liked NBL! Its definitely a rare pair I'll love until the end of time.

As for my thoughts on RSL with an ASL family dinner: you're right it would be chaotic. Sabo and Koala are visiting and checking in when the Heart Pirates show up so Luffy throws a party because it's two family reunions in one. So Law is putting up with Luffy's shenanigans as Robin is catching Sabo up on the fact she, Sanji, and Law are also siblings. Sanji is cooking for the feast as Ace is talking with Shachi and Penguin.

At some point Law manages to corral the five of them into the Tang for a more private conversation. So the six of them are in the mess hall of the Polar Tang to talk, mostly about how RSL became siblings. Luffy is sitting on Sanji much to Law and Sabo's annoyance, Ace is laughing as he sits next to Sanji who knows it's a losing battle on every end for him. Robin is giggling as she sits between Law and Sabo, Luffy immediately starts playing with Sanji's hands.

Law throws a room out but is promptly fended off by Robin's devil fruit and Sanji does kick Law in the shin.

Sabo threatens to remove the cook from life if he does anything to hurt Luffy. Sanji has questions about why Sabo phrased it like that because look at Sanji's brother and sister. Look at them Sabo.

Sanji's been threatened far worse for far less. And he says so. Do better Sabo.

Sabo is absolutely offended by Sanji's attitude towards his threat but Ace has absolutely lost it and Law has given up to join his sister and Luffy in giggling as the blonds stare down each other. If they thought they were going to have a serious discussion they were wrong. Sanji is just like "I'm the only person in the room without a devil fruit and I can still set myself on fire" which makes Sabo look at Luffy in disbelief and ask where he found him. A fish shaped floating restaurant in the East Blue is not an acceptable answer apparently.

Robin says that she and Law found Sanji in the North Blue before that. Law hums and says that maybe the North Blue was good for something, despite sending Sanji to the East Blue and Robin to the Grand Line and keeping him there but Robin points out he got to keep Bepo. Law says he lost all three of his families but at least he got the bear in the most sarcastic tone.

Luffy asks what he means so Law talks about Amber Lead and his home town, Rosinante who adopted him and then sacrificed himself for him, and then Sanji and Robin. The glare Robin and Sanji get is very familiar and Robin pats Law's shoulder and off handedly mentions the three buster calls she's survived and Sanji points out he and Luffy were there for two of them. Robin acknowledges that despite Law's very, very tired look.

"I stabbed myself in the face to prove to Shanks I was tough, but I was aiming for my eye." Luffy says as he plays with Sanji's fingers.

"How did he convince you to be with him?" Law asks Sanji with despair.

"He refused my refusal." Sanji deadpans.

"Have you tried killing him?" Ace asks. "That's what Sabo and I used to do before we gave in."

"I tried killing myself." Sanji shrugs as Luffy immediately pinches his wrist in punishment for his phrasing making him hiss in pain.

"Yeah, you broke your back kicking me and Nami out of the way of an avalanche and I had to dig you out." Luffy grumbles.

"That's on you Captain, you could have left him there." Robin smiles.

"I would have." Law agrees before he looks at Sanji. "You broke your back?"

"Mhm, fought the next day." Sanji answers as everyone stares at him except Luffy. "Thanks for saving my boyfriend and his brother by the way." Sanji waves of the looks easily.

"Yeah, no problem. Figured you had all died and he didn't need that too." Law nods.

"Our apologies." Robin says.

"None of you guys are allowed to die." Luffy orders them all. They all agree easily.

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #revolutionary sabo #devil child nico robin #nico robin #fire fist ace #sabo one piece #straw hat luffy #asl brothers #asl trio #nt!law #nt!robin #nt!sanji #answers #sanlu #lusan #luffy x sanji #sanji x luffy

[nevermeyers]

Hi! I hope you're having a great day! About the writing ask, I'd LOVE to know 4, 6, 18, 27, 40 (I just started reading your works btw, so I'm adding my own questions that you are absolutely free to ignore if it's annoying: do you have a favorite piece of your writing? Which one is it and why?

Have a wonderful week and take care 😊

Hi! I hope you're having a great day too 💖 It's not annoying, don't worry about <3 I'll answer that question firstly

Do you have a favorite piece of your writing? Which one is it and why?

This question is certainly difficult, since I have a special affection for each and every one of my pieces. I also think of them as the moments in which I wrote them, specifically the places and what was my emotional state.

Ephemere is very special to me, and I love how the character development is turning out. How Rindou tries to get out of a depression thanks to his brother and Sanzu, how Sanzu tries to fulfill his dream of being a dancer when the world seems ready to throw him away.

Loving Kabukichō is depressive from the start. I remember writing the foreword at four in the morning while crying lmao, and I've cried more times while writing. In the end, they're two broken kids trying to survive until they meet, and things just aren't getting better.

However, I'll be talking about something shorter and I think I'll choose Redamancy, since I wrote it recently. And I'll talk about it too in question 18, as I also chose Redamancy.

I just love writing about Sanzu as a broken and lonely person, everyone's second choice, the dog that is only good for barking. Sanzu, who is completely losing control with drugs, who doesn't even have friends or hobbies. Sanzu, who thinks he doesn't deserve a petty touch, yet yearns for Rindou's warmth and has a visceral fear of being abandoned.

On the other side is Rindou. Rindou, who gives him the drugs because he doesn't want him to buy from someone else because of the danger that they could be altered doses or scams. Rindou, who sees how Sanzu loses himself to the point of not remembering anything the next morning. Rindou, who loves Sanzu, the thin, empty shell that he sees every day and the real Sanzu.

I loved the result and I will turn it into a series called “You don't even have to love me back” <33

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Welcome to what I call "phonetically pleasing words" Sounds weird I know 😭

A while ago I always used "idiosyncrasy" in all my papers and exhibitions both in high school and university. I always found a way to fit it into whatever I was doing. It's a nice word and it sounds good. I made it almost my personal stamp. A project of mine wasn't a project of mine if it didn't have that word in it. It drove me crazy lmao

There are names that I also find phonetically pleasant, precious. Like Haruchiyo. It just feels good to be pronounced 😭 I've never met someone who had this thing about words.

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

Not being able to do it anymore. Writing is the only way I have to express myself and my biggest hobby. I don't understand a world without writing, therefore being unable to continue writing in one way or another is something that terrifies me deeply.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Redamancy, again <3. To have a bit of context. They're both in the shower in what is supposed to be a romantic moment.

He squeezed those rosy cheeks, smiling. Rindou grabbed his wrist to pull him away and held his chin, touching the tip of his nose with his own. He kissed the corners of his lips, where diamond scars marked his presence on young skin. It could have been a romantic moment.

A stab of pain shot through Sanzu's stomach. He shrugged slightly, sighing an insult and pushing Rindou away, placing his hand on the center of his chest.

"Wait…" he muttered, flinging open the partition.

Droplets of water slid from his body to the ground. He almost slipped off the soft rectangle that was the rug, and sank to his knees in front of the toilet, retching at the same time. The marble lid slammed against the cistern and Sanzu held his belly, spasming a couple of times.

He threw up everything inside in front of Rindou's blank stare. He felt so fucking embarrassed, naked and pathetically miserable, on the damp floor of his bathroom. Mixing alcohol and pills he hadn't even read the type about hadn't been a good idea.

"Were you high?" Rindou whispered, with a small voice. He stopped the water and grabbed a couple of towels.

Sanzu shivered, panting pasty strings of vomit which he spat out with something akin to contempt.

This scene didn't change much when I wrote it because I was clear about what I wanted and how. Where do I begin?

Sanzu hates himself so much. This scene takes place after he screwed up in a meeting with Manjiro and Kakucho, precisely the reason for having been distracted there is the side effects of the drugs, the damage that is being done to the brain and that affects him when sober.

After the meeting, the first thing he does is mix drugs and alcohol, a bad decision. He needs it, he can't help it. He hates himself for being useless at work, for ruining his time with Rindou. That "were you high?" it's important to them. It just makes Sanzu feel like a piece of shit again and Rindou feel horrified.

The whole oneshot is Sanzu feeling like a piece of shit, yeah :(

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

So this question was repeated in another ask so I'll say the same <3

I won't say that writing them stresses me out, but I would be anxious to be with them if they were real people.

The first is Ran from Ephemere, who has a big problem with internalized homophobia and often treats his boyfriend badly almost without realizing it.

The second one is from a fic that I haven't published in English yet. Let's say I first write in my mother tongue and then translate it. It's from a Drakenui in which Seishu has an ED that he has dragged through without going to therapy since his childhood. He's a boy obsessed with the idea of ​​perfection, as he has grown up watching his sister Akane (who also had ED) trying to please boys by being perfect, also his family. After Akane's death, Seishu does the exact same thing, not only does he develop ED, but he starts hanging out with guys to heal his emotional emptiness, guys who treat him like crap the way they treated his sister.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I haven't written poetry in years, so I'll put up a Bécquer poem that never fails to inspire me to write <3

Rhyme LXVI

From where do I come...? Seek the most horrible

and rugged of paths:

the tracks of bloody feet

on the hard rock,

the scraps of a soul completely shredded

by sharp brambles

they will tell you the way

that leads to my cradle.

To where do I go...? Across the most shadowy

and sad of deserts,

valley of eternal snow and of eternal

melancholy mist.

Where there is one solitary stone

without any inscription,

where forgetfulness dwells,

there will be my tomb.

#thank you 💖 #I hope you enjoy my works btw 🥺🫰🏻 #@meyers #—asks🌸

[sansaorgana]

— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FIVE || PART SIX || PART SEVEN PART EIGHT || PART NINE || PART TEN

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

SUMMARY — Feyd is not as easy to manipulate as his wife wishes. Her sudden change of behaviour leaves him confused. Na-baroness wants to find out why she's not receiving any letters from her father.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. I hope this shows in the tags because there were problems with them for the past two days 😡😡😡 Anyway, I want to thank everyone engaging in this story by liking, reblogging and leaving comments. It means a lot... 😭

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut), violent behaviour

WORD COUNT — 6,140

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IV)

You woke up earlier than usual when you felt a movement next to your body under the duvet. Your eyes opened lazily as you watched Feyd sitting up on the bed. You assumed that even on the morning after his victory in the arena, he wouldn’t miss a training session.

The light creeping inside through the narrow windows shone on his bare back and you squinted your eyes at the pale scars that were scattered all over. You had noticed them before but you had assumed they were a result of his gladiator fights. Now you weren’t so sure anymore. You had seen him in the arena and his back was not exposed there. All the cuts also did not look like they were made in some frantical fight. They looked too systematic.

You reached your hand out and traced one of the scars on his back with your fingertip. He flinched and turned around immediately, reminding you of a wounded, yet deadly animal.

“Don’t do that,” he ordered in a voice even more deep and raspy than usual. 

“You haven’t gained those scars in the arena, have you?” You asked, carefully.

Feyd’s eyes narrowed as he was trying to read your intentions. But he remained silent and you took your hand away.

“What has he done to you?” You whispered and sat up to face him.

He terrified you. Your body still remembered everything he had done to it. All the awful things that he had said, all those disgusting smiles, creepy stares. His touch was venomous and destructive.

Yet, he had also given you pleasure in those past few days. Your mother was dead, your father too shy to talk about such matters to you. Lady Jessica tried but you didn’t want to listen to her. Your maids had been telling you awful stories about performing marital duties – most of them had never been in a situation like this and they were repeating other people’s stories.

Your marital duties had been worse than whatever they could prepare you for. But none of their stories mentioned the waves of neverending pleasure when you were trapped in your husband’s strong arms like a doll he could break at any moment. Completely at the mercy of that monster and falling apart over and over. The mixture of pain and pleasure.

You began to understand why he liked it so much.

But his craving was unnatural. You couldn’t imagine enjoying being stabbed the way he had been in the arena. It was beyond some sort of twisted sexual desire. It was a trained dog’s behaviour.

“He has done what had to be done,” Feyd told you and moved away, trying to leave the bed but you reached out for him again and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay with me,” you tried to sound seductive. You weren’t that sore on that morning and your plan to break him couldn’t wait for too long.

He looked at you, confused. He was angry at you for trying to stop him but he didn’t push you away.

“Stay with me,” you repeated and let the duvet fall down from your chest, revealing your breasts. “You won yesterday, did you not? Surely, you can miss the training session today,” you tried to convince him.

“No,” his answer was harsh when he left the bed and you had no choice but to let him go. “I don’t fuck before the fight,” he reminded you and went to the bathroom.

You sighed in defeat and laid back down on your pillow. You fell asleep again before he even left the bathroom.

You were surprised that it was Astra and Cara waking you up to tell you that your breakfast was awaiting on Feyd’s balcony. You let them dress you up and you wondered why he hadn’t come to you after his training. You expected him to come back and fuck you senseless, especially after your teasing.

Perhaps you miscalculated your own charm’s possibilities. Perhaps you didn’t have as much sexual power over him as you liked to think. Perhaps you were a toy he was bored with already, soon to be pushed aside completely.

You couldn’t help but to feel that his recent behaviour had been your fault. Perhaps you started too fast, too boldly. Some of your last night’s and this morning’s actions made him change his attitude towards you.

After breakfast you went back to your own bedroom and sighed at the sight of your desk being empty. Still there were no letters from your father or your brother.

“Girls,” you asked for Astra and Cara and they rushed to you, “why aren’t you bringing me any correspondence?” You asked.

They looked at each other, surprised.

“Oh, my Lady, we would never miss any of your letters,” Cara assured you.

“We were not given any,” Astra shook her head. “We would never hide anything from you, na-baroness.”

“I know,” you smiled sweetly at her. “I was not angry at you,” you added and they sighed out of relief. “I was just simply wondering.”

You looked around, confused. You truly had no idea what to do with your whole day.

“Can you take me to that relaxation area? I am curious about it,” you proposed and they nodded their heads.

You left the room and they followed. The guards looked at you as if they wanted an explanation. You decided not to give them any and let your girls guide you.

They were only guards. They had no right to ask. But they looked stressed as they watched you walk away and disappear in one of the corridors.

Meanwhile, you tried to remember all the corridors on your way but they reminded you of a maze. Perhaps one day you would be able to walk freely and confidently through these halls. Perhaps one day you would be a baroness in this fortress. But that was not that day. In fact, you felt defeated and weak after realising that Feyd hadn’t visited you after his training session.

You were angry at yourself.

“It’s here, my Lady,” Astra pointed at one of the doors.

“Well, what are you waiting for, my sweet girls? Open the door,” you smiled at her.

“We are not allowed inside, na-baroness,” Cara bowed down.

“Why?” You furrowed your brow.

“No servant is allowed there. It’s a relaxation area, it’s for the nobility, my Lady,” Astra added. “We will wait here.”

“What if I want you to join me?” You asked.

“Please… We don’t want to be in trouble, na-baroness,” Cara looked down and you sighed.

You didn’t want them to get in trouble either. So you pushed the door open and entered the room by yourself.

You gasped at the sight of a huge room with a high ceiling. There was a glass dome in the middle of it and inside of it… green grass, trees and flowers. You approached it, mesmerised. You looked up and noticed a big lamp – so bright that it almost burnt your eyes out – some sort of a device to imitate the sun.

But the glass dome was not the only thing in that room. There were doors leading to other, smaller rooms. One of them was a sauna, one of them was a swimming pool with a huge window to watch Giedi Prime from above. There was some sort of a gym, too. And you were completely alone in this whole section.

You assumed the Baron was not here very often, if at all. You couldn’t picture Count Rabban or your husband visiting such a place either. It looked like you had your new favourite place in the whole fortress.

Carefully, you entered the glass dome and took a deep breath in. Oh, it felt so good. The air was so crispy and fresh. Not in a fabricated, filtered way like inside the fortress. It reminded you of the air back home on Caladan.

You basked in the fake sunlight and laid down on the grass lazily, closing your eyes and humming to yourself. You planned to visit the library tomorrow and bring yourself some books here.

But as nice as it was, it made you feel sad, too. You missed the warmth of the sun on your skin, you missed the colours of nature, the sounds… It was unnaturally quiet in that glass dome. It missed the sounds of birds and the waves crashing on the shore, the sound of life. You missed Caladan. But even if something happened and you were sent back to your family, it wouldn’t be Caladan either. It would be Arrakis – another unfriendly world.

You couldn’t believe suddenly that you had used to hate Caladan. You had hated its grey skies and rainy weather. How stupid you had been, how spoiled. You couldn’t wait to live on your grandparents’ planet. How naive.

How could you ever believe that your life would be easy and so simple?

You spent most of the afternoon in the relaxation area. When you left it, Astra and Cara were still standing by the door. You felt a little sorry for them.

“It’s time for dinner now, na-baroness,” they told you and you nodded your head before following them back to your chambers.

You were surprised to see Feyd on the balcony, too. He was sitting by the table already and eating some steak that looked more raw than cooked. It would be the first time you’d actually share a meal together on his balcony.

You quickly fixed your hair and dress in the mirror and took a deep breath in before joining him by the table. He looked up at you and you gave him a faint smile.

“You didn’t come to me,” you pointed out but he ignored you, “after the training,” you added. “I thought you always wanted to fuck after a fight.”

“Who said I didn’t fuck?” He muttered and still avoided your gaze.

You gritted your teeth at his answer. Was he getting bored of you already? Why was that? He had seemed to be so excited about you the previous night. About your hair, your breasts, everything that made other men on Giedi Prime jealous of him.

That was, until you had started to be nice and gentle to him.

You hesitated before answering him. It could lead you into big trouble and you weren’t sure if your body would be able to handle it.

“I have my needs, too, my Lord,” you risked and batted your eyelashes even though he wasn’t looking at you. Then you began to eat your own piece of steak. Yours was properly cooked, though. For which you were grateful.

Feyd moved his plate away before staring at you as if you were a riddle or a rebus. It was quite amusing.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re playing a game I do not fully understand but I can assure you it will not end well for you,” he threatened and you swallowed thickly.

Oh.

“I’m not playing any game, Feyd-Rautha,” you tried to hide your nervousness but the breath you took was shaky. You hated that in the black-and-white light he looked even more scary and even less human.

“You’re acting weird and I don’t like it,” he pointed out.

“Weird how?” You shook your head. “I don’t want to be here. I hate you, in fact. But I have to be here. I have to be your wife. I thought we could make it a bit more pleasant for the both of us if we were nicer to each other…” you reached out to caress his hand but he flinched away almost aggressively.

“This. I don’t like this,” he explained as his jaw clenched. You saw murder and confusion in his bright eyes.

“You don’t like my touch?” You asked, surprised. “Surely, it doesn’t hurt when I touch you.”

“I would like it better if it did,” he drawled out and your heart sank in your chest.

A wounded animal, you tried to remember.

“I’m sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to cause you any discomfort,” you nodded your head and silently went back to eating.

He remained stiff and observed you for a long while. You tried not to think about anything and left your head empty because if you focused on anything now, you would burst out in tears.

Your plan was not working. Nothing was working. You would be tossed aside soon. They would kill you. You didn’t mean anything to Feyd-Rautha. How could you?

When you finished your meal, you cleaned your lips with a napkin elegantly and cleared your throat before daring to lay your eyes on your husband once again.

“I am experiencing problems with my correspondence,” you told him. “I wish to speak to your uncle.”

You watched his reaction but he did not smirk or laugh. If there was some scheming behind your back to keep you away from your father’s letters, he was clearly not a part of it. It made you nervous. What if there was no scheming?

Feyd only nodded his head and stood up.

“Now?” You asked.

“I thought you wanted to,” he gave you an angry look.

“Well, I do, yes,” you stood up as well and followed him outside your chambers.

This time the guards did not look so stressed. After all, you were accompanied by the man who had owned you.

“Where were you before?” Feyd asked you on the way, sternly.

“Astra and Cara showed me to the relaxation area,” you explained.

“Who?” Feyd stopped and you had to stop as well to avoid bumping into him. He turned around and squinted his eyes at you.

“Astra and Cara. My servant girls,” you answered.

“You named them?” He was visibly surprised but there was lots of contempt in his voice as well.

“Why not? How would I address them otherwise?”

“You don’t address them. You give them orders,” he cupped your cheeks with one of his hands. His touch was rough as he brought your face closer to his. “I will slice their throats next time I see them,” he threatened.

“Wh-what? Why?” Your lower lip trembled at the thought. “You have no right… They are mine. They were given to me by your uncle. They’re my property…” You tried to think of something.

Feyd gave you a twisted smile as his eyes sparkled.

“I like you more like that,” he whispered. “I missed you, pet.”

Then he laughed and pushed you away again. He started walking down the corridor but you remained in your place for a while. When you finally caught your breath back, he was already far away, so you had to run up to him.

“Please, don’t hurt them…!” You begged and tugged on his sleeve.

“They keep you away from me. Maybe I’m jealous,” he teased and then he frowned at the sight of silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “Stop it,” he ordered.

“Stop what? I can’t control that!” You were frustrated with him. You wanted to punch him at the moment but you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk your girls’ lives. You wouldn’t handle losing Astra and Cara.

“I don’t like it when your eyes are wet,” he gritted his teeth and stopped in front of the huge doors leading to his uncle’s chambers.

You stopped, too, and you took a deep breath in, staring into your husband’s cold eyes.

“When my eyes are wet?” You asked in disbelief. “It’s called crying, Feyd,” you explained.

“I don’t like it,” he shook his head. “It makes me feel weird when you do that.”

You sniffed the tears back and dried your cheeks with the palms of your hands. You didn’t want the Baron to see you like this. You had to present yourself in the most dignified form in front of him.

However, you were quite pleased with the new discovery about your husband.

If your tears were making him feel weird, it meant that he still had some humanity buried deep inside. The weird feeling had to be pity or compassion or something of that sort. You could see that in the way his eyes were softening despite the anger, as if he was confused at his own reactions.

You wiped out the last tear and straightened yourself as your face became serious again.

“If you kill them, Feyd-Rautha…” You started and he smirked.

“Then what?” He chuckled.

“Then it will be as if you killed me,” you told him. “And what use is there of a broken pet?”

You didn’t wait for his answer. It was not like he would ever actually promise you not to kill your girls. And his promise would not mean anything anyway.

Your answer was not given to him to convince him. It was given there to confuse him.

Instead of waiting for his reply, you nodded at the guard to open the door and announce you the Baron.

When the Baron allowed you to come inside, you did. Feyd followed you behind and the doors closed behind you two.

You had never been in the personal chambers of Baron Valdimir Harkonnen before. They were awful and empty. There was a big tub full of black, slimy substance and he was sitting inside it. Two of his own slave girls were sitting on the edge alongside all the machinery keeping him alive. You tried very hard not to throw up all your dinner.

“Baroness,” Baron greeted you with a chuckle, “what seems to trouble you?”

You stood in front of the tub and Feyd stood behind you with his hands behind his back as if he was a servant himself. Loyal dog, you thought.

“I have not yet received any letter from my father nor brother. Am I supposed to believe that they are not interested in my fate, my Lord?” You asked. “I don’t understand why you are hiding them from me. I doubt you would let any of my letters leave Giedi Prime without you reading it first.”

“So you think I am hiding letters from you, baroness?” Baron squinted his eyes at you and you moved uncomfortably. You hated more than anything the way he was addressing you. “I’m going to be honest with you. It hurts me deeply that you think of me this way. You are no prisoner on Giedi Prime. It is your home now,” he explained calmly but no words leaving his disgusting mouth were ever honest or sincere.

“I can believe my father chose to discard me. But not my brother,” you shook your head.

“Oh, yes, yes, Prince Paul Atreides,” Baron mentioned his name with a chuckle, “in the last letter, I believe, your father wrote to me that your brother sends his love,” the last word seemed so out of place in his mouth and he looked disgusted to say it, too. “I forgot to mention it yesterday, forgive me, baroness. I was too focused on my darling nephew’s fight.”

“What do you mean in the last letter?” You clenched your fists.

“Tsk, tsk,” Feyd hissed behind you and took a step forward. You could feel his breath on your neck now.

It confused you. Was he there to intimidate you further or… to protect you from his uncle? You relaxed your fists. He was right either way – you shouldn't show the Baron your anger in such an obvious way.

“You are right, baroness. Your father is worried about you. He wrote to me to ask if you are adapting well. I replied that you are doing great,” Baron smirked. “I allowed myself not to mention your rebellious nature. We do not want to disappoint your father, do we?” He mocked.

But it was not that mockery that made your heart shatter. It was the fact – if the Baron was not lying, of course – that your father had chosen to send an official letter to the Baron instead of writing to you personally and asking about your wellbeing.

Baron Harkonnen watched your reaction carefully. You didn’t want him to see how sad it made you but it was probably too difficult to hide.

“I understand, my Lord,” you nodded your head. “I am sorry for making assumptions.”

“You are free to send your father a letter and I have no interest in reading it,” Baron added. “Is that all, baroness?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother,” you nodded your head and turned around to leave. Feyd followed you behind.

“Feyd,” Baron called for him, “stay for a moment. I have to talk to you about something.”

Your husband nodded his head and stayed behind as you walked out of the Baron’s chambers.

You didn’t go back to your bedroom yet, though. You waited for Feyd patiently as the guards in front of the door were watching you curiously. You couldn’t hear a word from the inside anyway, though. The walls were soundproof.

When Feyd finally pushed the doors open and left his uncle’s chambers, he was surprised to see you waiting for him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you to the wall as he stood above you in an intimidating manner.

“Eavesdropping, huh?” He asked, angrily.

“How could I with the walls being soundproof?” You drawled out through the gritted teeth. “I was waiting for you,” you explained and his grip loosened a little bit. “Doesn’t it make you angry when he calls me baroness?” You dared to ask, quietly.

“It’s faster to say it this way,” Feyd looked like his silly explanation was not satisfying enough even for himself.

“Am I not your wife, my Lord?” You swallowed thickly as his pupils darkened. “Am I not your property? Why is he trying to take that from you? Is he always making you share everything?” You pretended to ask innocently as you looked at him in a doe-like manner.

“You are my wife,” he let go of you and took a step back, “and you will shut your mouth,” he ordered. “Take her back to her room,” he told the guards and they nodded at him.

When you were being walked back to your chambers, you remembered the Baron telling you that you were no prisoner on Giedi Prime. How funny.

Astra and Cara were waiting in your room and you smiled widely at the sight of them. You approached them to give them a hug and they gladly hugged you back.

You didn’t want to tell them about Feyd’s threat. You hoped he had only threatened you to kill them because he enjoyed the fear in your eyes.

“What about the letters, my lady?” Cara asked.

“They are simply not coming,” you sighed and approached your desk. Your eyes landed on the picture of your father, Paul and you.

You grabbed it and took a better look at it. You were all standing proudly with the Atreides flag waving in the background. Your father – stoic as ever – strong leader and dignified man, looking up proudly. Paul with his boyish charm right behind him, his eyes were as absent as always. The future Duke. You were in the back, wearing one of your mother’s old dresses. You were the only one looking directly in the camera with a piercing gaze.

Suddenly, you got scared looking at your own self in that picture. As if it had always been your destiny to become a Harkonnen. There was something hungry about you in this portrait, something malicious even.

You smashed it on the floor as Astra and Cara widened their eyes.

“M-my lady,” Astra began shakily.

“I don’t want to see it anymore,” you told them and went to the bathroom. “Run me a bath.”

In the evening your girls dressed you in a sheer, black nightgown of your choice. You waited on your bed, wondering if Feyd would ask for you or come to you himself. You realised that he hadn’t touched you for the whole day and it was making you worried.

Astra and Cara were sitting by your bed and cleaning your jewellery in silence. You wanted them to be with you even though they could be doing that in their rooms.

Finally, the doors leading to Feyd’s bedroom opened and he walked inside. Your heart skipped a beat when he laid his eyes on your servant girls and licked his lips before chuckling contemptuously. Then he looked at you.

“Come to me,” he ordered and turned around to walk away. You sighed with relief and stood up to follow him.

You smiled at your girls and they nodded their heads at you.

The doors closed behind you and you spotted Feyd by the mirror, leaning on it and playing with his short knife.

“Come here,” he beckoned you over.

You walked slowly towards him, letting the fabric of your robe dance on your naked skin as the moonlight shone on you through the narrow windows. Your hair was loose and your nipples were hard already. He watched you with satisfaction and a wicked smile.

“My Lord,” you stood in front of him, a little scared of his next move. You didn’t like it when he was playing with his knife in front of you like that. One swift movement could slice your throat.

“You told me earlier you have your needs, too,” he breathed out and your heart sank in your chest. You had known you would eventually regret saying that. “Show me how much,” he dared you.

“W-what?” You didn’t completely understand what was expected from you.

“Show me how much you want me to fuck you, my Lady,” he explained.

You swallowed thickly at that. You knew that he addressed you sarcastically, but there was something about Feyd-Rautha calling you my Lady that made you itch right in your core.

However, you got shy at his command. You had no idea what to do. Every idea you could think of was suddenly idiotic and pathetic to you. You hated how he twisted the game you had started and now it was him tormenting you. Your lack of previous experience left you paralyzed. It had been easier to imagine such situations in your head. But now, in real life, you just had no idea what to do.

“Aw,” he raised your chin with the tip of his knife and you looked up, scared. “I knew that. My little pet is starting games she can’t finish,” he teased. “Such a timid little demon you are,” he hummed and stood behind you, with the blade still pressed to your throat. You could see him in the mirror’s reflection; standing behind you and placing his free hand on your hip to pull your body closer to his chest. “I was too rough with you,” he admitted. “I broke you,” he whispered into your ear.

“I… I am alright, my Lord,” you stuttered out.

“I don’t mean your body, my pet,” his hand moved to your womb and he pressed it possessively even though it was still empty. “A week ago you were an innocent, scared Princess. Now you’re a hungry whore,” he continued and you felt your cheeks heating up.

You wanted to protest but he pulled the fabric of your nightgown up to reveal your womanhood and he put his hand between your legs. You couldn’t deny his words now. He could already feel that you were excited. He laughed with contempt at you and you clenched your jaw.

“What is it that you want, little pet?” He asked you as his nose and tongue slid down your shoulder. His blade was still pointed at you.

“I want you to kiss me,” you dared to say and took a deep breath in, fearing his reaction. He froze for a second and looked up at you. “I want you to kiss me like you did at our wedding,” you explained. “Please, my Lord,” you pleaded.

There was no way he could not hear the way your heart was pounding in your chest. You only hoped he wouldn’t interpret it as fear – even though it was.

After a while of hesitation, he dropped the knife away and turned you around violently in his arms. He cupped your face with both of his hands and leaned in to give you a hungry, sloppy kiss like the one he had given you to seal your marriage union.

But this time you kissed him back. You weren’t just standing there and taking it as you had at your wedding. You wrapped your hands around him and scratched his back with your fingernails, knowing perfectly well it would spur him on. He moaned into your mouth and you smirked.

The way your tongues fought with each other, you couldn’t tell anymore if it was still an act of intimacy or a rivalry. When he broke the kiss, he licked your face slowly, mimicking the act from your wedding. But when he was done, you leaned in to lick him, too.

You surprised yourself that you didn’t find it disgusting. It came natural to you as if there had been some primal and animalistic urge in you, too. But you had never known about it until now.

Feyd’s eyes sparkled and he joined your lips again in another hungry, passionate kiss. This time you started to walk towards the bed and he allowed you to lead him until he felt the bed frame behind and stopped.

“Let me please you, my Lord,” you breathed out.

You hadn’t thought of it. It wasn’t part of your scheming. All those vulgarities were coming to you naturally in the heat of the moment. You couldn’t recognise yourself but you didn’t mind since it seemed to work.

“I thought you hated me,” he teased but his body was trembling from impatience. He was craving you so desperately that it was boosting your ego. The dangerous heathen Feyd-Rautha was craving you.

“I hate you as much as you hate me,” you pushed him down and began to crawl on top of him.

You doubted that he hated you. He just hated the way you would confuse his senses and feelings.

So, exactly like you hated him.

“I will be back tomorrow,” Feyd woke you up in the morning and you rubbed your eyes lazily.

“Hmm?” You asked and covered your mouth to yawn.

“I’m leaving with my uncle for a day. We will be back tomorrow,” he told you. “I forgot to tell you last night,” he smirked.

“Where are you going?” You asked. “Why am I not going, too?”

He didn’t answer. You assumed it was not an usual diplomatic mission, then.

“You can play with your pets when I’m gone,” he was about to leave the chambers already.

“They’re not my pets,” you denied but he only smirked and walked out.

You laid in bed stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember the last night and overthink it in every detail. But it was impossible. It was so primal and unexpected that no logic applied to it.

Feyd had allowed you to be on top of him. He had allowed you to hurt him. To slap his face, to choke him, to scratch his chest until he bled. You marked his neck and shoulders with your lips – bites and hickeys all over. But what you had been feeling inside was not revenge. It had been a desire.

You winced at the memory of how good it felt to be on top of him. To reach your peaks one after another with him under you. You had been so hungry, you hadn’t wanted to stop. And he could stop you any moment but he had not because he had enjoyed it. He had been watching you with contempt but pleasure, too.

Pain and pleasure. What a delicious mix.

You stretched and sat up, sighing. If someone had told you after your wedding night that you’d grow to love it… You’d laugh.

Maybe it was your previous lack of experience. Maybe it made it so easy for him to shape you in the way he wanted to. To turn you into a monster similar to him.

You stood up and approached the mirror. Your body was marked, too. Especially your breasts. You caressed them and remembered how he sucked on them desperately. It was the moment when he visibly softened a little in a very unusual manner. When he had his face buried in your breasts, his guard went down a little, proving that you had been right all along. Your plan was good. You needed to use affection to wrap him around your little finger. You just needed more time and patience.

Astra and Cara carefully sneaked inside the bedroom with the dress already prepared for you to wear on that day. You smiled sweetly at them.

He hadn’t hurt them.

You took a huge book from the library that was explaining the past hundred years of the Harkonnen wars, conquers and victories. Barely being able to hold it in your hands, you entered the courtyard.

You decided to abandon your plan to spend the day in the relaxation area – it would not run away after all. And it was one of the very rare days when your husband and his uncle couldn’t control you. You had the opportunity to walk around the fortress more freely.

You had seen the courtyard from Feyd’s balcony but you had never been there yet. You sat on the stone bench and opened the book to read it. The black-and-white colours did not make any difference when it came to reading anyway.

After a while you spotted Count Rabban walking through the courtyard. He was watching you from the corner of his eye and you were watching him. When he passed you by, you closed the book loudly and hurried after him.

“Count Rabban,” you called for him and he slowed down for you to approach him. He looked at you with contempt and confusion. “We haven’t talked much yet,” you faked a smile.

“Indeed, my Lady,” he drawled out.

“I’m surprised to see you,” you continued, “I was sure you went with my husband and the Baron.”

“Clearly, I did not,” his jaw clenched. You struck the nerve.

“Can you tell me where they went, perhaps?” You batted your eyelashes, playing stupid and naive. “Feyd did not want to tell me,” you giggled.

You saw disbelief in his brutal eyes. He couldn’t believe you were that stupid and annoying most likely.

“Absolutely not, my Lady,” he nodded and walked away, entering one of the fortress’ corridors.

You followed him inside and changed the tone of your voice to a more serious one.

“You don’t know it either, do you?” You asked him and he turned around, surprised to hear the change in your voice. You spotted his fists clenching and the vein on his forehead popping. He was stopping himself from hurting you. You didn’t want to imagine what would happen to him if he laid his hand on you. You were almost tempted to find out what his uncle and brother would do to him if he hit you or threatened you.

You belonged to Feyd. And to some extent you belonged to the Baron. But poor Count Rabban, despite being a part of the Harkonnen family, could not do anything to you.

“They haven’t told you, my Lord,” you teased and approached him carefully. He was staring at you with so much rage and hatred that you almost started to regret it. “They don’t treat you equally here, do they?” You asked and he remained silent. “I know what it’s like. I have a younger brother who has always been favoured by my father… No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried. He will inherit the title and I am here; discarded, thrown to the wolves. We are very alike, Count Rabban,” you whispered and watched his fists loosening. “I know we will most likely not be friends. But we do not have to be enemies. We are of the same pack now,” you told him softly and looked deep inside his eyes.

A long silence occurred between you two. Had he been ordered not to talk to you? Or was he too scared to answer any of these things? You couldn’t believe it was the man who was called Beast Rabban.

He could kill you in a moment. What was stopping him was simply… your power.

After a few nights with Feyd like the previous one, your power would be even greater.

“Have a good day, Count Rabban,” you nodded your head at him and turned around to go back to the courtyard.

“My Lady,” he nodded at you.

You smiled to yourself. He was terrified of his uncle. He would probably kill the Baron himself if he was not so scared. Count Rabban didn’t have to be eliminated. In fact, he could be useful later, when Feyd would already be a Baron.

And you – his beloved Baroness.

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #tttw

[darkredsblog]

Skz as sad ending

Pairing: ot8 x reader

Genre: angst

Content: TW! Containing the mention of death, killing and suicide, read at your own risk.

Note: i have been into angst lately 😭 i love hurting myself... This is really really long...

Part 1 Part 2

Bangchan (killing himself)

You just moved into a new school. You were living a good life as usual, and suddenly hear a rumor about your classmate that were called ' the depressed kid'. He always wear black and hide his face behind his bangs. "Hey, i heard that he had a fight with our Hyunjin. He was badky injured. Poor Hyunjinnie. Honestly, i don't know why he even live. Honestly, he should be dead." That's what the girls were whispering in the class. The boy only listened to them, not saying anything. Not even try to defend himself.

You think that it's odd. Usually people will defend themself whether it's true or not. So you decided to ask him yourself. You make your way to the boy and sit in the dusty seat beside him while everyone were glaring at you. "Is she serious?" They asked as you were sitting. "Why did you fight with him?" You asked out of concern. "It's none of your business." He said and left the classroom.

You followed suit, grabbing on his wrist as fast as you could before he could get away. He stopped walking, you both stood at the hallway. "Can't you just tell me? There must be the reason. I don't think you would do that." You told said. He let out a sigh, "actually... I didn't do it. He fell and accidentally banged his head at the edge of the table. He's my friend why would i do that to him? It's up to you if you don't want to believe it." He told you. "But.. Why didn't you defence yourself?" You asked. "There's no need. No one would listen anyways." He calmly explained and tried to walk away, but you grabbed his arm again. "I'm y/n." You introduced yourself. "Bangchan." He replied.

You two then became best friends and hang out together. Until one day, he decided to confess his feelings that he bottled up since you two were friends and prepared flowers as a gift. But to his shock, he saw hyunjin holding your hand hearing your words. "I love you too." The flowers that he were holding dropped to the ground representing the state of his heart. He then furiously make his way towards hyunjin. "Congratulations, you two." He sarcastically said and backed away, walked across the street. Hyunjin was desperate to catch up to him that he ran, following him without looking out for incoming cars. "Hyung, i'm sor-" His voice suddenly cut by your deafening scream that made bang chan flinch.

"Hyunjin!!" You screamed on top of your lungs. When he looked back, he dropped on his knees seeing hyunjin motionless, red blood wetting his school uniform. "CHAN, LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE DEAD!" You yelled. Bangchan was stunned, unable to say or think about anything. Until when he hear a painful words that comes out from your mouth. "YOU SHOULD JUST DIE!" You blurted out, tears coming out. His eyes bulged out, upon hearing those words. Those words never hurt him when he heard it from other people. But when it comes from your mouth, he felt like a knife was stabbing his heart with an insane speed.

He got up from the ground and ran as fast as he could to his home. After he entered, he went straight to his room and locked his door, slowly falling down leaning against the door, tears streaming down his face. His hands were trembling so hard. "Is it all my fault?" He muttered. During that night he went out to get some fresh air and walked past the bridge. He stood there, staring at the calm river. Suddenly tears fell down his cheek, he quickly wipe them with his sleeve. But wiping it doesn't make his pain goes away since your words keep playing in his mind.

"You should just die." The scene keep repeating again and again like a broken cassette. "Maybe i should. It's... For the best... Right?" He asked himself. You saw him at the river and felt bad for what you said earlier. You quickly approach him, to realise that it's too late. He already jumped, as you ran to at least grab his hand for the last time. "CHAN! I'M SORRY!" You yelled out, tears rolling down your cheeks. "ANYONE, PLEASE! SOMEONE JUST JUMPED OFF!!" You yelled, but no one heard your voice. "I'm sorry, y/n. I hope you find your happiness. May we meet again in our next life." His last thought, before his final breath.

Lee know (He can't move on)

It started from you two as a stranger, where Lee know was walking in the hallway. He took a glimpse of you, a blush appeared on his face. "Minho, what's wrong? Your face is all red." Felix ask, as he entered the classroom. "Nothing." He said and sat in his seat.

During lunch, you two met again. But, in different situation. You two bumped into each other that you spilled your food on his shirt, staining it. "Oh my god, i'm so sorry. Let me clean you up." You said. "N-no, it's okay. I'm fine. I can clean it myself." He replied. "It's my fault. I caused it, so i need to clean it up." You insisted, pulling his hand towards the sink.

You took out a tissue out of your pocket, wetting it and rubbed it on the stained spot on his shirt with full concentration. "Why do you insisted to clean up the mess?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. "Well, you want me to be honest? Okay, i just want to touch your chest." You rapidly said. At this point, it's as if you were rapping. "W-what? M-my chest?" He asked, covering his chest with both of his hands. "Obviously, that's not what i wanted to do. I just want to clean the mess i created." You explained. "You're so funny." He chuckled.

After a few months of being friends, he finally confessed. "I love you. Do you want to go out with me?" He casually asked while looking out if any of his friends were hearing. "Y-yes." You shyly answered. You were having a good time while dating each other that he bring you home while his parents is not home. "Hey, we have been dating for a few months, right? Wanna try something?" He asked. "What's that?" You replied. He got closer to you and kissed your lips. You two were making out, until it become something else. He unbuttoned your shirt one by one, and you also do the same to him.

Until one day, after your graduation you got accepted to study oversea. "Mom, i got to study oversea!" You squealed in happiness. "That's great, honey." You mom replied. "But... I don't think i would go." You pout. "Why? Isn't that your dream? Why wouldn't you go?" She asked. "Well... What about my boyfriend?" You asked. "Well... Long distance relationship is a thing right now." She explained. "Okay, then i'll go." You said.

The next day, you went to meet him to tell about the good news. "Minho! I got accepted to study oversea in america!" You excitedly told him. "Really?! That's great!" He replied. "But.. What about me? What about our relationship?" He asked. "Don't worry. I'll come back and marry you. Just trust me." You said and kissed his cheeks. "Okay, then i trust you." He said and took out his pinky finger. You then accept his promise.

After you went to study in america, you would always text him. Until one day, you stopped texting him. He wait, wait and wait for a few months, but nothing from you. "Y/n, why haven't you text me back? Are you busy? Or...' His mind started to wander around, over thinking. "No, i trust you." He mumbled. Then after he patiently waited, he got a text from you. A big smile appear on his face, expecting good thing from you. But, it slowly disappeared. "Minho, i'm sorry but... Let's break up. During my time in america... I fell out of love with you. And... I found the love of my life and we decided to get married." You texted him. Tears fell out his eyes, all his patient and time wasted on waiting for you to come to him and said you miss him. But he got the opposite.

1 year later, you invited him to your wedding. He attended, sitting in the first row looking at you in sorrow. For all those time he's still waiting for you. Even now, he is still waiting. Hope never leaves him. He just want you to let your spouse go and run to him, hugging him tight, saying that you're still love him. Saying that it's not real. He tried so hard to not cry, seeing you being happy but not with him.

Changbin (betrayed by his bestfriend)

"You pay now, or you die." The man spoke, pointing his gun towards your head. It's just a matter of time before he pulls the trigger. "P-please, i have no money." You cried, trembling out of fear. "You should told that to your dead dad long ago. Your dad is dead, now it's your time." He said, about to pull the trigger but you spoke up, stopping him. "I-i promise i will pay. But.. Just give some time." You cried. "Time? I gave you a lot of time for your pretty face. But you took advantage of my kindness. You're lucky i'm kind of in a good mood." He said, moving his gun along your jaw. "I'lo give you... 1 week. No, no. 1 month. If you don't pay in that time, i'all be very very angry." He said and push your head away. "Go." He said.

"Where would i get the money?" You asked yourself while escaping from the hell that you just went through. "Hey, have you heard? The old man who borrowed a money from the Mafia? He ended up dead. No one knows the cause. Not even police. There is no trace." The old women were talking to each other. "Mafia? Money?" You thought. At this point, you were desperate to get the money in any way. So, you decided to meet them. You made a research about mafias and found out about the guy in a Mafia gang that were known to be the kindest. Seo changbin. He is the kindest in the gang, but once you mess with him he would never let you go. If you don't pay in time you would lose you life. You were so desperate that you don't care about anything.

"Is this the right place?" You mumbled, while walking down the street. You walked around and found a weird looking door in a dark alley that no one ever walk to. No one would notice if they don't go near. You entered the door and found a club. It is the same club in your research the place where seo changbin was working. You tried to walk into the VIP room, but was stopped by big muscular guards that wear all black from head to toe. "Miss, you're not allowed to enter. This is only for VIPs." One of them said and dragged you out. "I need to meet Seo changbin now!" You yelled. "No, ma'am. We don't know who that is. Just leave." He said.

Just then, a muscular man wearing a mask and a cap came. He also wearing black from head to toe. "What's the problem with this beautiful young lady?" He asked. "She tried to enter VIP room while she is not the VIP and wanted to meet Seo Changbin, sir. We don't know who that is." The guard explained. "Let her go. You, come with me." Changbin said and gestured you to follow him. You quickly follow him into him office. He then asked you to sit on the chair in front of him.

"So... What do you want?" He asked. "I want to meet Seo Changbin." You answered. He then slowly took off his mask. "Y-you're Seo Changbin?" You were shocked. "Yes. So, what do you want?" He said, playing with his gun. "I-i heard that you're a Mafia." You said. "Oh, and then?' He asked again. "I.. I need some money. Please, help me. I promise i will pay you back." You begged him. He then aim his gun towards you, and shoot it past you and the bulled landed on the target behind you. "Hmm... You're too pretty to waste. Well, sure. I'll talk to my boss. But, work with me." He smirked. "What job? I would do it." You slammed his desk. "Entertain the customer and... Me." His smirk grew wider.

After a month, Changbin haven't give you any money that you lost hope. Then, the guy that you were in debt appeared in front of your face. "So, young lady? The money?" He asked. "I-i haven't got the money yet." You said, backing away finding the opportunity to run. But you didn't make it. The grabbed you and shove you in the van. Then took you to their hiding spot. "I told you right? To bring the mony in one month?" He gritted his teeth, grabbing a hand full of your hair and pulled it has hard as he can while your hands and legs were tied. "You're really making me angry. Fine, until you pay me, become my toy. My sex pleasure." He said and undressed you. "Huh. Just what i would imagine he said and tried to undress himself. But then a voice spoke up.

"Don't you ever touch her. She is my toy and no one can touch her." Changbin said and throw a suitcase beside your naked body and kicked the man. "Touch her and you'll die." He said, aiming his gun towards the man's head. He moved his head, telling the other men that stood there to untie you. "You got you money. Stay away from her." He said taking off his coat and put it on you, covering your body. He picked you up, carrying you back to his club.

After a few months, you realised that everything is wrong and it's all messed up. "Changbin, i.. I can't do this. This is all wrong. I'm telling the police." You told him. "What? Do you really want to die? I won't kill you but my boss will." He said. "I can't do this.." You finally cried. Changbin tried to look away, feeling bad. "Fine.. If that's what you want. I'll ask my friend to help. Actually i thought the same. The only thing that made me continue is money. Until i met you. Now, i got nothing to lose. You're the most important to me. I can't put you at risk. So, stay away from this. Let me handle it." He said and kissed your lips. "I love you." He muttered and left the room.

You three almost reached your objective without them finding out. You three went to the place where the boss is. You all acted like you got some business with him. "Sir, i came to discuss something with you." Changbin spoke. "Such a beautiful whore you got there mind to share?" He smirked. "I'm sorry, sir but that doesn't relevant with the topic I was about to discuss." He frowned. "Seo Changbin.. Such a man with principle." The boss praised him. Suddenly, all of his men came out of hiding, pointing a gun towards you three. Changbin quickly took out the gun that he had in hiding and point it around each of the men.

To your shock, his friend hold out his gun towards changbin's head. "Betraying us, Seo Changbin?" The old man laughed and walked closer to you. Just then, 'bang' a gun shot was heard, changbin was shot in his heart. "That's what you get." His friend chuckled. Changbin withered in pain, collapsing to the floor. "CHANGBIN!" You yelled, running towards him groaning and fell on your knees. "C-changbin." You spoke, putting his head on your lap. "I.. I love you. Please don't cry." His voice became hoarse due to the pain, his hand trembling trying to reach your face to wipe your tears for the last time. "Your turn, whore." The guy said and 'bang' all you hear is a long beep and an extremely painful pain in your heart. You looked down, to find blood flowing out on your hands. You collapsed down beside changbin, holding to his hand as tight as you can. You both looked at each other, smiling while withering in pain.

Hyunjin (killed someone he loves)

You worked as a police who were assigned to catch a gang who assassinated a lot of rich people and stole their valuable things. You have tried for a few years, to no avail. "Do you know about the gang that i told you about?" You asked. "Well not really." Hyunjin answered. "I almost caught him. But I missed him. If only i saw his face i could have catch him." You pout. "I see. Isn't it a good thing that he got away?" He asked. "Why is it? I worked on this case for a long time." You ranted. "Think about it. You catch one of their man, don't you think they would hunt you down?" He explained. "Well, that's right. But it's my job." You fought back.

After you hang out with him, you fell in love with him. "Hyunjin, i need to tell you something." You said. "What is it?" He asked. "I fell in love with you." You said and his face dropped, feeling disappointed. He then try to walk away. "W-why? Are you angry? You don't like me?" You asked him, he came to a halt. "It-it's not that... I.. I don't want to ruin our friendship. Let's just stay as a friend." He continue to walk.

"Come on, pull the trigger." The boss ordered the guy to shoot you while you were alone at home. The guy tried to pull the trigger, but he can't. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? JUST SHOOT HER BEFORE SHE SEES YOU!" The man yelled inside of his communication device in his ear. He accidentally pulled the trigger and missed his aim, the bullet went past you, making you realise what happened. You saw him at the roof of a building far away, aiming for you. He knew you were looking at him and he ran away. You quickly went and chase for him while calling for backup.

Just when you arrive at their hiding place, you saw them all waiting with a smirk on their face. "Welcome, young lady." The boss said while turning his chair around, facing you. He was unrecognisable since he was wearing a mask. "Mind to have some tea?" The man asked, picking up his cup of tea as if making a toast. "No, thanks all i want is for you all to give yourself in and i won't hurt you." You explained. The were all laughing so hard upon hearing your ridiculous warning. "You? Hurt us? Stop joking." He said. Everyone was laughing, except for one guy.

"Wanna play?" The man said and ordered one of his man to attack you. You blocked his attack and attack him back, kicking his gut as fast and as hard as you could causing him to collapse and breathing heavily in pain. Then, another one came, you blocked and twisted his hand and hit the back of his neck causing a concussion. Then more and more come to you you defeated them all without any scratch. Then, the old man clapped his hand with a chuckle. "Wow, that's so amazing." He praised and stood up from his seat.

"What's wrong, boy?" He asked the guy who were standing in the same place since the beginning, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Why didn't you attack her? You know her?" He asked. The guy didn't answer. He only looks down the floor. Then, the man ripped the mask off of his face, revealing him as someone familiar. Hwang Hyunjin. He is your best friend. The one who you tried to catch all this time is always in front of you and you loved him. "H-hyunjin." You stuttered. "Kill her." The man whispered in his ear, holding hyunjin's hand that were holding a gun and aimed towards you. "KILL HER NOW!" The man yelled, causing fear inside him. "I'm sorry, y/n. I loved you too." He said and... 'BANG' he pulled the trigger, the bullet went through you head. Everything went black, you can't see anything, you can't hear anything. All that's left in you is pain in your head and your heart. "Y/n... I'm sorry. I-I need to. I'm sorry." You heard his voice for the last time and a soft peck on you lips is the last thing you feel.

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