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aviawrites · 3 months

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the rage of a harkonnen (dune: part two)

pairings: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fem!Reader

summary: The Emperor’s second born daughter, Harauna, has never been truly seen by her father; Her light always being dimmed by the shine of her older sister, Irulan. As Maud’Dib continues fighting on Arrakis and her father’s spot falls farther into jeopardy, Princess Harauna sees an opportunity to finally find her place in the Imperium…Wife of the possible Emperor, ruling alongside Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. (3.9k)

a/n: i’ve already seen this movie twice and i’m going again😛 austin’s performance is so compelling, i couldn’t take my eyes off of him whenever he was on screen. i hope you all liked feyd-rautha as much as i do…otherwise i may be crazy. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: blood, death, abuse

in this story, yn is: Harauna Corrino (Harkonnen)

10191 // month 1 // 📍kaitan

“Paul Atreides is not our only prospect.” Reverend Mother Mohiam reveals, standing before you and your sister. “The Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer.”

Your eyes open wide, the name itself sending shivers down your spine. You, along with all of your family, knew of Feyd-Rautha - Knew of the Sadistic Harkonnen, known for slaughtering anyone who challenges him, even his own people.

“Feyd-Rautha?” Irulan furrows her brows, “He’s psychotic.”

“That’s irrelevant. The question is…can we control him?”

You stare up at the Reverend Mother’s black veil, an idea striking you.

Since a child, it’s always been Princess Irulan - The Emperor’s daughter. Irulan will inherit the thrones, Irulan will marry Paul Atreides, Irulan will rule the empire. Never once has your father taken the time to look at you. Never once has he asked the Reverend Mother how you are as a Bene Gesserit. If he did, he’d come to learn that you’re just as equipped to take on the role of Empress as your sister.

You know what you know - You know how impossible it is to ever be worthy of attention in your father’s eyes. The sound of marrying the prince, possibly the future Emperor, doesn’t seem distasteful. Is he a terrible man, yes. May he turn out to be a worse husband, yes. But God forgive you if you choose being the possible ruler of the empire over being second best.

“I will marry Feyd-Rautha…” You suggest, coming out as more of a squeak.

Their eyes dart to yours, Irulan’s gaze feeling more like knives piercing your head.

“Young Harauna-“

“No.” Your sister interjects, turning your body toward hers. “Are you crazy? Feyd-Rautha is the last man you need to marry.”

“Irulan, I want to.” You push back, your voice low. “He may be Emperor one day, we need to secure that opportunity. Do we not, Reverend Mother?”

“We absolutely do, Harauna.”

Irulan’s jaw hangs open, looking between the two of you.

“Are you serious? Reverend Mother, you know Feyd-Rautha. You’ve seen him with your own eyes - You want Hara anywhere near that?”

“She’s thinking of the Imperium, Irulan. Should Paul Atreides be alive, he will want the throne.”

“Feyd-Rautha won’t go down without a fight…” You finish for her.

“Precisely. If he loses, Paul will have a bride awaiting him.” She gestures to your sister. “But if he reigns supreme, he’ll have a Corrino by his side.”

Irulan only shakes her head, disbelief glossing in her eyes.

“Hara…”

“Sister, I need to do this.” You whisper, softly squeezing her hands. “I can’t make decisions like you…I’m not you.”

“W- What does that mean, Hara? I don’t understand-“

“If I get in line for the throne…” You begin. “If I secure a spot for myself in the Empire, I will be nearly equal to you in father’s eyes. I’ll mean something to someone.”

A tear threatens to fall as she struggles to find words.

“You mean something to me.” She shrugs, now wondering if that holds any value to you. “If I lose you to the Harkonnens…If I have to stay here alone while you’re on Giedi Prime I don’t know how I’ll-“ She quickly wipes her eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t know how I’ll survive this impending war without you, Hara.”

You tilt your head, bringing your hand to Irulan’s cheek.

“Write to me, Irulan.” You smile, forcing back your own tears as you solidify this departure in your head. “Send messages to Giedi Prime, will you? Write them like you do your entries and I swear to you I’ll read each one. No matter what happens with the Harkonnen’s, I’ll always have my sister back home on my side, right?”

A thick silence falls upon the three of you, Irulan fighting between perplex and terror as her hands began to quiver in yours.

“I’ll alert the Emperor.” Reverend Mother says, leaving the two of you.

Alone, your sister pulls you into an embrace, one of the tighter ones. She allows her tears to land on your garments, her shoulders trembling as small whimpers escape her lips.

“Don’t do this, Hara.”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

“On your birthday of all days. The Baron should know better than to jeopardize his soon to be Planetary Governor in such a public manner. You could’ve died.”

“I would not have died.” Your husband fiddles with his blade.

“All slaves should be drugged, should they not?” You remind him. “It’d have taken only one swift slash of the Atreides’ blade and The Baron would’ve lost his heir. He’s insane.”

“Careful, wife.” He warns, “The Baron is flawed but his promises are rich.”

“What could he possibly promise you that’s more important than the entirety of this planet?”

He stares, his eyes scanning you up and down as a small smirk grows on his face.

“The entirety of Arrakis.”

Creases form on your forehead, your words coming out as stammers.

“…He promises you…Arrakis?”

“If I manage to control spice production.” He explains, reveling in your dumbfounded expression.

Your mind immediately imagines your life on Arrakis, a fate you’ve never considered. The plan was to marry Feyd-Rautha, be by his side when he defeats his opponents, have your father kneel to him, and rule the Imperium from the planet of the Harkonnens. But now, thoughts of working from the dune covered planet makes the hair on the back of your neck rise.

“But-“ You clear your throat, “Um - Is that not Rabban’s job?”

“Rabban failed.” He seethes. “He humiliates house Harkonnen with each Fremen attack he allows. With me ruling the mission, there will be no more.”

“What’s the plan? Once you’re on Arrakis who’s to say my father won’t order you out? What if he doesn’t like how you handle-“

“The Emperor has a set fate too, Harauna. If we were to expose what he did to the Atreides’, the houses would explode. A rise against the Emperor would ensue.” He nears you, looking down at your wide eyes as he bares his blackened mouth. “The throne would be ours to take.”

You don’t know if he meant to admit to what he’s admitted to. Though, you have no doubt he’d tell you his plans to kill your father to your face, indifferent to what you might think. But even Feyd-Rautha should have some sort of limit, shouldn’t he?

“Feyd…” You murmur, “What will happen to him? What will happen to my house? My Reverend Mother, my sisters? They’re innocent they don’t deserve-“

He rolls his eyes, turning away in the midst of your oration. “Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He returns to his spot across the room. “If you want to sit next to me as Empress, I suggest you straighten out a bit, hm?”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

14 hours later

Feyd-Rautha’s room reeks of deceased Harkonnen bodies and dried blood as you storm in, a scowl on your face.

Inside, you see your husband squatted by a dead servant, one that if you look too close you may realize is an acquaintance of yours.

‘FEYD-RAUTHA RABBA HARKO-‘ He’s carved into her pale white skin, his letters bleeding into each other.

The Princess Harauna 3 months ago would scream at the sight. She’d turn and run, alerting her Reverend Mother and father that a cold blooded murderer has gotten into your home. Only…this is home. The man carving names into bodies isn’t a stranger, not an intruder, but the man you married.

Though you’re not sure he knows it, seeing as you can practically taste the Bene Gesserit on him.

You shove, hard, knocking Feyd-Rautha off balance and onto the concrete floor.

“What the-

“Seriously!?” You shout, watching his bewildered expression looking back at you. “You’ve not been of age for one whole day and you’ve already betrayed me!”

“You watch yourself, woman.” He warns you, spite in his eyes.

“I can smell her on you.” You say, knowing all of the signs of a Bene Gesserit’s work, and a sexually vulnerable Feyd-Rautha. “She could be carrying your child!”

Your husband quickly calms himself, seemingly deciding not to waste energy on someone like you. On someone like his wife.

“Would you stop that yelling?” He mumbles, turning and beginning to smear the blood across the mutilated arm.

“How dare you.” You scoff. “I’m meant to be your princess. I’m meant to be your queen Feyd-Rautha! Not some girl who was on a mission. A Bene Gesserit who was here to test you and didn’t want you for more than one night-“

“You’re not any better!” He rises, his demeanor changing like night and day in a split second.

The minute he gets angry, his energy dominates the room. “Don’t you ever think you’re a better woman for being a power hungry leech who called dibs on the heir before anyone else.” He jabs, lowering until he’s in your face.

Your jaw hangs open, offense quickly overpowering the fear that you often feel in the presence of an angry Feyd-Rautha. Or any Feyd-Rautha, at that.

“I don’t need you.” Your eyes pierce his, flames igniting in yours. “I’m the Emperor’s daughter, I was second in line for the throne. If anything, you needed me to get to where you-“

The wind is knocked out of you as your husband grabs your neck, instantly cutting off your words. He grins, nearly frothing at the mouth as he always does at the slightest hint of violence. He feeds off of violence, in the face of which most people quiver he greets it with a big smile, he yearns for violence, he is violence.

“I needed you, huh?” His face about brushes yours, his saliva dripping onto you. “I wasn’t at home being neglected by daddy, Harauna. I wasn’t the second choice. I didn’t need to marry to get power. I wasn’t worthless.”

He’s entranced, his hand on your throat tightening with each sentence until you’re sure it’ll snap. You claw at his stained hands, collecting the blood of his servants under your nails.

“Husband-“ You croak, feeling the pressure in your head increase.

Feyd-Rautha only smiles, adrenaline rushing throughout him as he contemplates letting this be the end of you. Maybe he should rid himself of this royal burden before she sits with him at the top.

“Know your place, princess.” He whispers before letting you go with a shove.

You drop to the floor, crashing into the bloody bodies on the ground and fighting for your pipes to reopen. You frantically heave as he looks down at you once more, evil in his eyes, before he leaves you where you are.

Weeps escape you, feeling selfish as you cry in the presence of women who got it much worse.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you. Nevertheless, in times like this, the possibility of being ruler of the Imperium outweighs the possibility of dying due to your attempts.

“Be the worst position in the highest room.” Your father used to tell you, “For some never make it to the room.”

10191 // month 4 // 📍starship

The low hum of the frigate gives the cold ambience some character. Rabban lounges across the kitchen table, his feet up on the marble. Your husband sits a few chairs down from you, sheathing and unsheathing his blade, creating a repetitive sound for the two of you to suffer through.

“Princess Harauna.” You hear as the grand doors within the starship open. A servant enters, seemingly a younger version of the Baron, with a thin metal tube in his hand.

The big man hands it to you, bowing slightly before shuffling away.

“Say thanks to the piggy.” Feyd-Rautha teases, a devilish grin on his face.

Rabban slightly chuckles as you eye your husband, sighing before opening the letter.

“To my sister, Hara.”

Your eyes gleam, seeming to scan faster and faster the more and more you read. The two men in the room with you don’t seem to notice, mindlessly engaging in their own boredom as the ship heats up in the weather of Arrakis.

You shut the tube with a click, looking down at it as you weakly attempt to process what you’ve just read.

“Paul Atreides…is coming.” You reveal, catching the attention of Rabban and Feyd-Rautha. “He makes his way from the south.”

“Paul Atreides is dead.” Rabban corrects you.

“He didn’t die in the attack-“

“I know that, woman!” He abruptly shouts, banging the table. “I saw to it myself, him and his mother died in the-“

“Sandstorm.” You finish, much quieter than he began. “But he didn’t.”

Your husband has turned his body toward you, now intently listening.

“They live - And they challenge my father now.” You look up at the two of them, “Him. He must be this Maud’Dib, this Lisan-Al-Gaib. Who else would it be?”

“Wait,” Feyd speaks up, “Challenge your father for what, exactly?”

You meet his gaze before reopening the letter, searching for the Irulan’s line on the challenge:

Paul Atreides will arrive unannounced when we land in Arrakis in a challenge for the throne.

Rabban shakes his head. “There’s no longer a need for the Emperor on Arrakis.” He misses the point, “We’ve got the spice production under control. The old bastard can stay home.”

Feyd-Rautha leans his elbows in his knees, looking up at you with that same evil look he gets whenever a dangerous plan arises.

“Atreides’,” He thinks aloud, “They’re little rats. Insects that keep popping up no matter how many times you exterminate.”

“Should I alert the Baron?” Rabban asks, speaking quicker than his acute brain can think.

“You will do no such thing.” Feyd demands, conjuring up his plan in his much more suitable brain. “Since the Emperor is deciding to pay us a visit despite the work l've done here…Maybe the Atreides' will do the bloody work for us. Keep us in the good graces of the Great Houses."

Bloody work, he says. The exposure and diminishing of your father’s name he means.

“Brother.” Rabban counters, “The Atreides’ - The Fremen - They’ll have us outnumbered. Uncle should be aware-“

“You will do no such thing.” His brother orders, now loosely pointing his blade toward Rabban. “The throne is mine therefore the throne is yours. The Baron won’t make Harkonnen the greatest house, brother. I will” He leers.

“Husband,” You voice reason, seeing all of the ways you could lose your promised spot to this scheme. “If it comes to a fight and Paul beats you-“

“He won’t beat me.”

“But if this challenge doesn’t go our way,” You hypothesize, “We could lose everything. Paul Atreides won’t let my father live, not after what he’s done. My family will hold no power, my sister will be-“

"I will remain unharmed, will I not? As will my brother.” He redirects. “Are we not your biggest concern anymore? Are we not your family, Harauna?"

…

The ship gets hotter and hotter as you near Arrakeen. Feyd-Rautha meddles with his torso buttons on the opposite side of the room as you stare at the screen in your bedroom, broadcasting the sandy terrain of the new planet.

“What would your plans be as Emperor, Feyd-Rautha?” You query, eyes locked on the family owned land.

He sighs as he always does when you open your mouth, as if nothing his wife says is worthwhile.

“Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He repeats.

“Just answer me…Please.” You urge, the question having appeared in your mind minutes ago and hasn’t stopped nagging since.

“What do you think my plans are, princess?” He turns toward you, his dark and threatening eyes seeming to dim the entire room. “I’m going to make the entire Imperium Harkonnen. Our family will be the most powerful spice harvesters anyone’s ever seen.” He begins, “I’ll give my Empress a child, grow our empire, and teach my princeling how to rule.”

You listen intently, trying your hardest to envision your life going from Princess of Kaitan, to wife of the heir, to Empress of the Imperium beside Feyd-Rautha, of all men.

Be the worst position in the highest room.

Your husband goes on. “Caladan will be a thing of the past. Atreides will be a thing of the past. Harkonnen will be the great house and any others will just be…Maud’Dib.” He chuckles.

“‘Your Empress’...” You point out, never having heard your name. You only wish to hear where you and your family stand in his master plan. “Would it be me?”

He gives you his undivided attention, letting go of his leather vest. “Why must you talk so much about things that don’t matter?” He asks, true indifference and apathy in his tone.

For some never make it to the room.

“…Is it me or no one?” You speak up, your voice frantically running before your mind can catch up. “Is it me or death, Feyd-Rautha?”

Your attitude shifts in the middle of your sentence as you realize where you’ve heard these exact words before.

“You or no one, Irulan.” Your father would say, stroking your sister’s hair while the rest of you sat and waited for nothing.

Never in your life did you plan to sit in a Harkonnen’s bedroom and beg for his approval. For his confirmation that you were his.

But here you are, begging the worst of men to love you the way The Emperor never did. The way he never will.

“In two moons I will be Emperor.” Feyd-Rautha strides toward you, holding your hands in his as he bores. “Harauna Harkonnen will be next to me.”

A smile grows wide on your face; An odd, yet full, feeling of acceptance spiraling throughout you.

His eyes suddenly seem to get even darker as his grip on your hands morphs into a crushing clutch. “For as long as she knows her place, she will remain.”

Ice replaces the once warm feeling in your veins. Your smile fades as his grows, watching the fear in you rise with each squeeze of your fingers. Tears form in your eyes as the reality of your situation sets in once more as it has over and over since you step foot on Giedi Prime.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you.

10191 // month 4 // 📍arrakeen

two days later

You all stand completely still, your heartbeat seeming to be louder than the atomics outside of the Emperor’s structure. Inside the ring of Sardukaur lies your family; Irulan hiding behind your father as Maud’Dib, in front of your eyes, holds a blade over the Baron.

You and Feyd-Rautha stand alone across the walkway, your husband seemingly hypnotized by Paul Atreides as he plunges it into his uncles neck. Your hand resting on Feyd’s lower back vibrates as his breathing heavies, being just as amazed by Paul as you are.

The both of your mouths hang open, and for once, you and your husband seem to be on the same page. Paul begins barking orders at your father as you bring your lips to Feyd’s ear, speaking in a hushed whisper to not interfere with the daring Paul Maud’Dib.

“In the event of your death…” You begin. He slightly cocks his head toward you, listening. “Would you have me marry him?”

Paul gives one last daring look at the sea of people standing against him, though, he seems as fearless as your husband as his expression never wavers from stone.

“Is he worthy?”

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t so much as flinch at your comment, new, for a man like him. You can’t help but believe it’s because you’re right. The na-Baron recognizes that the viciousness that is Paul Atreides, no matter how unexpected, is a perfect match for him. A perfect match for his wife.

Is he wrong to admit that if not him, Paul may be the closest thing to fit to be Emperor of the universe?

…

You’ve never laid eyes on a fight so glorious. The two most powerful and ferocious men on Arrakis clinking their blades again and again in a battle for the throne.

The room falls silent as your husband lodges his sword into Paul, holding him close as one of the two release an animalistic roar. His mother stands, his Fremen’s mouths hang agape, your husband just hardly smiles at you over his shoulder.

You can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach. Yes - You want Feyd-Rautha to reign supreme. Yes, you want to be Empress. But as you watch the devilish sneer on his face fill out as Paul’s blood stains his pasty hand, your heart seems to be pulling you in another direction. You’ve always been quite talented at telling good from bad; But Maud’Dib, you can’t seem to figure out. He lays in the gray area in between the two, you determine.

Your reflection is quickly halted as the squelching sound of an edge piercing skin fills the room. You sway to the side, eyes wide as you see Paul’s hand gripping the handle, the rest buried into your husband’s heart.

A gasp escapes many in the room, you included as a hand flies to your mouth. You and your father very well may be the only people in the room who are rooting for Feyd-Rautha. Knowing this, the smiles that sprinkle themselves on attendants throughout the room quickly after the inhale isn’t unanticipated.

“You…” His raspy voice is almost too quiet for you to catch as he fights for each breath. “You fought well…Atreides.”

He slowly turns his head just far enough to have you in his sight. Even in death, Feyd-Rautha remains as menacing as the day you first met him.

He has no words for you. He only bares that stupid, prideful, blackened smile that got him stabbed in the first place.

You seem in a trance as you watch his body thud to the floor, looking as lifeless as the women on his bedroom floor back home.

“Lisan-Al-Gaib!” A Fremen leader calls, breaking the silence as his people repeat after him.

Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha’s murderer, rises. He limps toward you and your family, prompting your sister to swiftly grab your free hand as the other slowly lowers from your lips.

You had no love for Feyd-Rautha, nothing real. For him you experienced nothing that you should feel for a husband. Nevertheless, the tears flow all the same.

"The life debt has been paid.” Irulan blurts, squeezing your hand as Paul nears you. “Spare my father and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours."

Her words snap you out of your haze, throwing you into the face of reality as it strikes you in the heart.

"I'll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe and we will rule together over the empire." Paul declared.

In the span of seconds you imagine the moment a trillion different ways. If only he had nodded toward you, not Irulan.

‘Where is integrity?’ You wonder.

Where is honor in sacrifice when you've given all you know to give and you still don't win. You can never seem to come out on top. You can never seem to be first…But your sister can, as she always does.

You snatch your hand away from your Irulan’s; Your eyes glued to your father, now kneeling, as rage grows within you. The rage of all of the rejection you've faced, the rage of all you have given to get to where you are, the rage of now wishing Feyd-Rautha had stuck Paul Atreides' head on a spike for all of Arrakis to see.

The rage of a Harkonnen.

#dune part two #dune movie #dune 2024 #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #dune fandom #dune fic #dune part ii #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #feyd x reader #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha fic #dune part one

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months

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New In Town

Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.

At you.

Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that you’d opted to stay home today. After all, you hadn’t been to church in ages.

So what on earth possessed you to return today?

It’s not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again – now that you’d finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.

That had been nearly three years ago.

These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the town’s only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as you’d struggled to cope with the loss of the only family you’d ever had.

And now that you’d deemed life worth living again you’d apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Church’s Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadn’t counted on when you’d politely – and strategically – taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that you’d end up sharing it with the likes of him.

That bounty hunter fella that you’d been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.

At least that’s what Charline Marshall had said when she’d stopped by your shop to return a book she’d purchased because she didn’t care for the ending. While you weren’t usually one for gossip, you’d been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.

Two Days Ago…

“His name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?” She’d whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . “But he’s a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes I‘ve ever seen.”

“Oh really?” You’d mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.

“Mhm. He’s handsome all over.” Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. “And not only that, but…” She’d leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. “I think he likes me.”

“Oh? Has he come out and said that?” Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldn’t be? The woman was beautiful and, what’s more, she knew it.

“Well, I mean…not yet.” The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. “But I’m almost certain he will. I’m just giving him time to get settled in, you know?” She’d said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change.

“How kind of you.” Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet.

“Ari has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.” She’d tucked the cash from her return into her purse. “I think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think that’ll work?”

“I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Even though you were annoyed, you’d pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.

“Why, I think you just might be right.” Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. “And this?”

“It’s on the house, Charline.” You’d patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. “Best of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.”

“Well, aren’t you just a gem?” She’d all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. “You know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, you’d probably be able to land a man too. You’d be awful pretty if you’d just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean –”

“No thanks.” You’d simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig.

It wasn’t worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes.

“If you say so, sugar. But–” She’d responded as she strode towards the door. “Oh! You should come to my next party. We’ll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.”

'No offense, Charline, but I’d rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your mother’s closest friends.' You'd thought to yourself.

“Uh, maybe. We’ll see.” You’d hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. “Enjoy the bookmark!” God, you’d never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.

Which brought you back to the present. You’re startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turner’s sermon. You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock.

Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t realize that now you’re the one who’s staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: “howdy”. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like.

Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him.

On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.

So much for making a clean getaway.

“You’re not staying for the potluck?” She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Afraid not, Sister Winans.” You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. “I’ve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.”

“But it’s Sunday, honey.” The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. “This is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. It’s all right there in the good Book.”

“Be that as it may, Sister, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Plus I wouldn’t feel right about eating when I didn’t bring a dish to contribute, so…” You offer up a one-armed shrug. “Next time.”

You also weren’t a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that you’d left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.

“But–”

“Next time. I promise.” You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. “By the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyer’s latest book for you.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. “Stop by anytime. We’ll consider it an early birthday present, alright?” Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car.

Unlocking it, you climb in the driver’s seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate.

Yeah, no such luck.

“Fuck you, Levinson.” You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay far away from you.

He’d have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bell’s Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But first…

You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.

END

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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 2 months

Text

The sound of the waves collide // Part Three

Now we are getting somewhere... smutty. Given the nature of our favourite Giedi Prime bad boy, you can think of some possible tw.

And now I need to lay back on the couch and listen to NIN "Closer" on repeat...

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FXM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Four

1.264 words

Reverend Mother summons you. In the grandeur of the Emperor's library, amidst the tranquil silence and the books that whisper of forgotten tales, you stand before her. Kaitain, the residence of the Emperor, has a mild climate and seems comparatively softer than the weather in your Atreides home. It makes me wonder how the harsh surroundings of Giedi Prime affect its people and the ruling House of Corrino. You think this might be the last time you can enjoy your linen gowns, airy and light, with the fabric flowing down to your feet.

„How was your meeting?“ She says while reading a message scroll without looking up.

"We were officially introduced and I already sense a degree of ownership in him." Lying to her would be futile.

"And what about your second meeting?" Although her tone remains unchanged, your body stiffens.

"Unexpected" is all you can muster. Reverend Mother lifts her veil and says,

„He seems to destabilise you with surprising ease. Remember your mission: you are the one in control, not him. So much hangs in the balance, and you should know the consequences of not following through.“

The remainder of Lady Jessica's insubordination stings, but you bite your tongue.

"I heard that Na Baron takes great pride in his cobat skills. He should be in the training halls at the moment." With the veil being placed back in front of her face and the sound of the message scroll being closed, you are dismissed.

Guided by servants, you arrive at the training grounds. Your brother isn't there, having skipped his routine to spend time with his wife after their wedding. A few servants stay on the perimeter, while Gurney and a couple of other familiar faces of the Atreides guard are visible in the ring. The Na Baron is in the middle of his training with other Harkonnens and doesn’t realize he is being watched. You appreciate the unobstructed view. Sweat is running down his chest, along his abs, into the waistband of his trousers. His skin seems to be made of porcelain, yet he is as flexible as a clear mountain spring, a stream of energy moving through him, a testament to his relentlessness.

Gurney notices you and you signal your desire with a small gesture of your hand to challenge him. Gurney raises an eyebrow but is too intrigued to decline.

He approaches Feyd Rautha with confidence.

"Your skills are well-known. Would you indulge in a sparring session? I believe we are a match for each other."

The Na-Baron agrees. "With pleasure. It has been a while since I had such a formidable opponent as yourself.“

Their shields snap back into place, veiling them both in a slightly blue shimmer.

Although their combat is just training, both are instantly focused. With power and grace, they exchange knife jabs, and suddenly, with a swift motion, Gurney lands Na Baron on his back. Feyd retaliates with a knock of his head and now both are on the ground, interlocked but not willing to give up. Your eyes are on Feyds smooth, powerful movements. The thought of his grace extending beyond the realm of physical combat sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within that you struggle to contain.

The sound of your clapping makes them both raise their heads towards you.

„You are both well-seasoned warriors!“ you say, gathering the attention of the men. Feyd Rautha's gaze is filled with a mix that begins to seem familiar: adrenaline, lust, and something else that one could describe as malice. Both get up and bow their heads.

„Do you enjoy the view?" he asks.

"I certainly did," In reaction to your praise he raises the blade to his tongue and flicks it along the tip. Without further interaction, you turn away, leaving him panting and wanting more of you.

You are on the way back to guest wing, seeking company of your parents. With only a few hours left together, you want to use all the remaining time to speak, to listen, and to keep your betrothed waiting.

You are seated next to Paul and Irulan at dinner and their happiness serves as a calming ray of light in the mix of your emotions. Having changed into a dark green halter neck gown you feel like a shadow next to the happy couple. Seeing them like this strengthens your resolve to adhere to the plan and keep your desire for Feyd under lock and key. When you excuse yourself to retreat for the night's rest, Feyd Rautha appears suddenly next to you.

„I would be honoured to escort you, Princess.“ His voice seems to conceal a sardonic, dark energy beneath a veneer of politeness.

Your parents do not object, so you take his arm and leave the crowded room. Not even five minutes later, he leads you down a different corridor, one that does not lead to your quarters. As you try to object, your back is against the wall, his knees nudging your thighs apart, and his mouth is claiming yours. You feel the impact of his methodical and measured actions instantly. It appears something is simmering within him, waiting to break the surface. After what feels like an eternity, he releases your lips and gazes down at you with his stunning blue eyes. Your urge to kiss him back instantly almost overpowers you, the embers of carnal desire taking up more and more space within you.

Your hands reach out to his torso, feeling his muscles through the leather vest.He responds by closing his eyes and almost hissing. His lips descend on your neck like a hawk, his tongue dancing around the halter of your dress. The light material that was so comfortable only minutes earlier now irritates you. You want to be rid of it, rid of his attire and feel his skin against yours. Before you know it, you are facing the wall, feeling his body pressed against yours, his arousal evident. You are so close to giving in and then he makes a mistake.

„You will be a most exquisite addition to my collection, pet“ is objectifying and disrespectful.

An instant wave of humiliation and anger washes over you.

„Let me go!“ you growl, your voice full of indignation.

'Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like it, yet again’“ He clearly toys with you.

„Let me go“

He releases you instantly and you almost fall. In his eyes, you see the confusion everyone experiences when being subjected to the voice for the first time.

„You are using your witch powers on me?“

„How dare you mix me up with your so-called pets? I am a Princess of the House Atreides . If you even think of enjoying your pets and then laying your hands on me, you are mistaken!“

He doesn’t move but looks at you menacing, a vicious predator coming to the surface.

"Is the Princess jealous now?"

You stare at him angrily in return. The embers of desire are turned into a white glow of fury now.

„I will return to my quarters alone.“

Without a word, he seems to turn around, then thinks better of it and presses you against the wall again. This time, his hand reaches right for your core, and the humiliation of being soaking wet is written on your face. His fingers circle your clit, making you whimper and as they crawl closer to your entrance, he abruptly stops. He seems to enjoy himself, sucking his fingers clean. As his steps disappear into the distance, you compose yourself and make your way.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd smut #feyd x you #dune part ii #dune movie #princess irulan #paul atreides #artreidis reader #feyd rautha imagine

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nanamimizz · 2 months

Text

tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / fingering / reader is mexican / spanish / religious imagery / aftercare / hinted virginity loss / penetration /2.6k/ pwp - let me know if i miss something.

synopsis: javier escuella feels an all encompassing desire to have you. you feel it too, maybe even more.

Javier laughs into your lips, you are kissing him with the reverence of the faithful. You kiss sweetly, gently with the undercut of hunger he is all too happy to sate. Your form is soft beneath his hands, flesh pillabe like the strings on his guitar and the trigger of his revolver - the hollow of his palms filled with the curve of your hips. Javier nips at your lip until he can hear you hiss from the sting among your sighs from the pleasure of having him suck on your tongue.

“I can’t believe you - all I did was kiss you,” he stops to puff a breathe against your lips snickering at the dazed look on your face and the glistening spit on your lips, “and now you’re letting me fuck you.”

You whine, high and embarrassed but so unbearably needy and pressing yourself up against him like a cat in heat. There’s a little gold necklace threaded along the slopes of your collar - it glints against your untouched and unblemished skin like a comet, looping along your form in a circle until completion where it stays in perpetual orbit. Javier doesn’t know if he should be jealous of the thin necklace or not.

Your nightgown is off, spread out on the ground and Javier’s eyes are caught on the pendant that holds the face of La Virgen that glints in the lowlight of his tent - his eyes meet hers and he feels a shiver against his spine. Of course she would be there, looped above your too-good heart and appearing before him. It almost pains him to touch you, the holiness of your skin burning his palms that are too greedy to stay away.

You gasp his name and it brings him back to you - it brings his lips to your chest and you sigh as your hands twist on the fabric of his shirt clad shoulders like you are scared to touch him. You still have your bloomers, the white cotton stark against his tan hands and he presses another kiss right above your heart as it stutters tucked away in your ribs.

“Esta bien hermosa - you can touch me.” The pet name makes you tremble, whining when the word graces your flushed ears. Hermosa, meaning beautiful or gorgeous in the language your mother would sing you to when you were a girl. Your nostalgia brings desperation and it only serves to make you needier, wanting for more of the man above you like how priests desire the light of God. You think of that ill-stricken Reverend that wanders this camp and something aches in your chest as you let your hands go over the curve of his shoulders and anchor yourself there. Teeth aching with each suck on your tongue you don’t notice it when your bloomers are off until the brisk cool night breeze dances on your bare thighs. The skin there is hot and growing more so when he lets his hands settle on the smooth skin.

It’s almost comical how perfectly you fit in his roughed hands, his callouses from his knife so seamlessly accepted by the plush of your thighs. Like the velvet cushions rich men sit in their gilded train cars and golden stagecoaches. You go from velvet to wet silk with simple touches and you moan something sweetly into his ear as his face goes to your chest and his hands in between your thighs. The backs of his knuckles tease the wetness of your slick that leaks like honey and Javier lets his lips kiss the bud of your nipple softly but not without letting his teeth have their own kiss at the edge to make you whine.

“You are so wet, leaking for me - you’ll make a mess on my pants mi amor.” His teasing is endless and you can hear that smile you see whenever you blink. You jumble out a half-assed apology and it makes Javier laugh at you again. He must have you in quite the state if it’s making your perfectly trained manners fall off like wool when faced with sheep shears. His fingers have made their way to where you are the most needy - letting them pet along the slit and cup at your mound. You moan his name, oh so, softly when he squeezes gently, cradling your most delicate part the same way he cradles the neck of his guitar.

“Javi - please, please.” The shortened version of his name makes him grin, shivering pleasantly at how affection given only to him melts into his ears like syrup.

“Ya se, ya se. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.” Dark eyes are wicked at how they glint in the low orange light of his tent as he lets one finger slip in. He reclines himself back so he can watch how you take him.

Javier does not profess how he would take care of you every night for the rest of the nights you have in your life.

You whine thinly into the air, and it makes him hiss at how tight you are around his one finger.

“Relax, chiquita - I can’t take care of you when you’re all tense like this. Shh, shh,” he murmurs to you and in return you whine with a nod; pliable and sweet for him as you let your legs shuffle more open, working on letting him in and letting him deeper. One finger turns to two, and they curl into you cruelly without respite for how you weep and sniffle at the pleasure he tugs from you like music from his guitar strings. Your mouth is hanging open, drool shining on your lips as you let out thin little sounds.

You feel full, and pleasure dances along your spine as his thumb plays with the glimmering pearl of your clit. You whine - no sing his name like gospel and it makes something inside his stomach preen like a peacock.

Javier is dedicated, giving you an even pace and deep curls of his fingers to make you soft and loose for him. Dark brown eyes watch you with the precision of a predator - eagerly taking in how sweat drips down the middle of your breasts and how your jaw drops to make out little pants of his name just for him to hear. His fingers do just enough to bring you to the edge, and you stutter over your words as you push at his wrist with the desperation that is unbecoming of you. Etiquette and education are long gone from your mind as you beg him with an addled mind.

“Please, please not - not like that,” you stutter and let out soft little moans in between each word as Javier remains unmoved; letting his fingers stay inside you at their same pace, dark brown eyes taking in how even this almost makes you weep in pleasure. His cock stirs in his jeans at how it will be when he’s inside of you, filling you well beyond anything you’ve ever had.

“No, like this - it will hurt if you don’t cum now.” He mutters, voice thick with lust as he watches your hips twitch and jump when you have begun to hit the highest peak of your pleasure. Your body is eager for his fingers, tightening and fluttering around them as you leak down to his palm. Javier goes to shush you but you’re a good girl he realizes, watching you with a grin at how your hands shoot up to your mouth to muffle your long winded whines when you crash and cum for him. His voice is soft, reassuring you as you ride out your pleasure with the trembling of your hips and the quickened rising falls of your chest.

“Just like that - like that. There you go, there you go. Cum for me, give me this one and I’ll give you another.” He promises you, his accent thick as he watches your eyes go dark and unfocused as you burn with hot desire for him until he hears your broken voice mumble; “There’s more?”

He laughs. Teasingly, adoringly, lovingly and so many other words he can’t quite say.

“Si mi vida, there is always more with me. That I can promise you.”

Again, he laughs at the way he feels you twitch around his fingers that have stilled inside at the prospect of what more entails. He won’t admit to how his cock twitches in time with you tucked away in his pants.

You whine at the idea, hot at the image of being filled with all of him and whine again when his fingers slip out of you. Gossamer strands of your cum follow them, only to break and splatter along the inside of your flushed thighs. Javier smiles the same charming smile as when he sings and soothes you by rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other goes to undo his belt buckle.

You don’t see the length of him, only feel the heat of him against the petals of your cunt and it’s enough for you to yelp like some poor animal caught in a trap. Javier is bent over you, the build of his slim body covering you with his elbow supporting him above your head, eyes attuned to the half lit scene before him. You, sweating enough to make strands of your hair stick your flushed face with your eyes half lidded and mouth parted. His hips move without him thinking, coating his length in your glimmering release and rubbing against your still sensitive clit that it makes you flinch - mewling his name in a wet and defeated tone that makes him huff in half fondness-half teasing.

“Javi-” you whine, hotter than you have ever been and voice cracking when the head of his cock brushes past your entrance and makes its way in. You gasp into his mouth, one hand coming to cover your eyes and the other gripping at the fabric of his shoulder. Javier sighs against your lips and kisses you to muffle his own noises - higher pitched than he’d like to admit they are lost in between your two mouths as you take another inch of him. He is long, he knows this and you are tight ; tighter than anyone else he’s ever been with due to your lack of experience so he is slow with you despite how he wants to devour you entirely with one stroke.

Javier is tactical when he wants to be and is more than practical when he has to be so he controls himself, letting you have him inch by torturous inch. You are panting, throwing your head back in a way that lets him catch the tears that make it down your cheek and are uncovered by your hand. With one hand he bats away yours until your face - glistening and flushed is revealed to him as your mouth shines with drool from pleasure. His thumb goes to wipe away a tear and you move to feel the warmth of him more closely.

“Why are you crying hermosa, hm?” He asks you, sighing at how you take more of him so sweetly. You don’t respond only squealing and squeezing around him as you lose more of yourself on his cock. Half of him is seated inside you, enough for you to moan his name brokenly as you beg for more despite you wincing when he moves. Javier grunts and stops, letting the half of him that’s inside you stay still to let you breathe

“You can,” you pant, “you can put the whole thing in - please, please put it in.” You beg, and a thrill goes up his spine at the idea of seeing you weep from his cock being too much runs across his mind before he pushes it to the side. You are far too sweet, too delicate to be treated so roughly by him. You aren’t a working girl he can forget about come morning but the woman he wants to wake up to, which is why it’s easy for him to do what he thinks to be best.

He denies you.

“No, this is -” he sighs deeply at the way you feel around him - slick and wet and wanting for him to give you more until it aches. “This is enough. You’ll take the rest next time.” You whine at the thought and whine again when he pulls his slim hips back to fuck you like that. He gives you slow, careful thrusts with the hand that cradles your face sneaking down to rub at your pulsing clit with gentle precision. It’s almost too much for you, he notes and he feels bad that the sight of you weeping on half his cock, losing your mind with your eyes glassy from tears is doing it more for him than anything else.

You’ve always been a proper girl, ever since he saw you on your horse in the snow of Colter looking at him with the sweetest eyes framed by snowflakes. There’s a sick pleasure tugging at his stomach at how he has you now, manners gone and all you are now is debauched and drunk on him. It’s almost enough to make him finish and clearly it’s enough to get you there too by the way you weep out the little nickname you gave him.

“Javi, Javi, ’m going to -” He cuts you off with a punched out exhale, grinding his molders to keep from cumming inside by how you keep tightening around him like a vice.

“Go let go for me, mi amor - you’ve been so good.” With that you break, voice so ruined it cracks when you whine out babbles of precious thank yous in his ear as you come to completion a second and last time for the night. It’s painful, the last drag he gets of your cunt before he tugs at his sticky and slick cock to shoot his spend against the mound of your cunt. The sight of him dripping down to your twitching lower half more than makes up for it and he is more than willing to bend back over you to press gentle kiss after kiss on your panting lips. Your eyes had fluttered close and you babbled mindlessly under his gentle touches as you slowly came back down to look up at him with blearily eyes. Javier smiles at you with all the tenderness of the world when you wrap your arms around his neck - he manages to settle on his side with you in his arms and you tuck your face into his neck. You nuzzle the skin and sight softly, eyes red and half lidded tired from all he has pulled for you. Javier is soft with you, spoiling you by letting his nails scratch your scalp the way you like.

“Rest mi vida, I’ll clean you up.” he murmurs into your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum, murmur his name and a soft little confession of love before your eyes slip shut. You shiver when the soft fabric of a pocket square wipes at the mess of your swollen cunt and whine when you are moved to have your nightgown pulled over your head. Through your fussing Javier remains gentle, whispering praise as he settles you to his chest to sleep. When you awake you’ll be faced with teasing you thought you were quiet enough to avoid but that can wait. Now your eyes are heavy and Javier’s heartbeat is soothing - anything else can wait as for now you want for nothing else.

#lamb.writes #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 smut

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munsons-maiden · 8 months

Text

𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 | DI Alec Hardy x female reader 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 | based on this request: Alec uses handcuffs (smut but it's sweet and soft) 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 | 1.1k 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | SMUT (DON'T READ if you're under 18!), a tiny bit of edging, handcuffs 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 | my Alec Hardy sideblog is @bloodytwittah. I also write for Crowley (Good Omens) over at @stargazing-crowley 🖤

“Please.”

Your whisper fills the silence of the office, warm breath mingling with his as you arch into his touches, his kisses, chasing every fleeting brush of his fingertips on your skin like it’s a lifeline and you’re caught in a storm.

Well, he is.

And you’ll happily drown in him, in the way his scent is engulfing you, the pine-needle smell of his cologne forever entangled with the ever-present salt in the air.

“Patience is a virtue,” Alec drawls, a quiet laugh painting his voice.

“And stalling is a vice,” you shoot back, but it comes out rather breathless.

Alec has spent what feels like an eternity kissing you, teasing you, fingertips brushing over all the sweet spots where you so desperately need him the most yet never lingering long enough to do anything but stoke your need for him further, letting you chase those fleeting touches nevertheless with growing despair. And impatience.

You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, the outline of it very visible beneath the navy fabric of his pants, but each time you wrap your legs around his waist to drag him closer, drag him right where you need him, he angles himself away from you with a soft, deep chuckle.

You discarded his tie a while ago, and his white dress shirt is undone, revealing his chest, the fine scar running over his sternum where they fixed his heart mere months ago, and the way his dark hair is messy and ruffled – not by the sea breeze for once but by your fingers – makes him look like he should be on the poster for some highly expensive perfume ad.

“We could consult Reverend Coates about the matter,” Alec chuckles softly now, his hot breath ghosting over the side of your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin on your pulse point, the soft scratch of his beard sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine.

Your own quip is swallowed by a string of moans as Alec’s fingers stop tracing circles on the inside of your thighs to wander higher, to the spot just above your clit, and you desperately roll your hips up to grind against his fingertips.

But the moans turn into a frustrated groan as he pulls his fingers out of reach once more.

“So impatient,” he breathes. You can feel his smile against your pulse point.

“Alec Hardy,” you tease softly, “Did I just catch you smiling?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Got a reputation to uphold.”

“And of course we wouldn’t want anyone at Broadchurch PD know you’re not as grumpy as you seem.”

“I am grumpy,” Alec quips with a whisper that sends a shiver of need through your body, “Just not when I’m with you.”

Butterflies soar in your chest at his words, and your fingertips in his hair tighten as you pull him into a searing kiss.

“Still. Payback’s gonna be a bitch,” you announce as you pull away just enough to catch your breath, eyes flitting to the clock on the wall over the closed door to his office. Ever since you’ve started dating Alec Hardy, nightly overtime hours have lost their unbidden-ness.

When Alec chuckles softly in response, resuming to map your throat with his lips knowing damn well what it’s doing to you, you feel your own grin curve your lips.

Two can play this game.

Still grinning, you untangle one of your hands from where you’ve been raking your fingers through his soft chocolate hair and let it roam down, underneath the skirt you chose this morning in the hopes it would come in handy later – and good lord, it does.

“What –“ Alec breathes, pulling away from your throat to stare at you, and your grin turns into a sultry smirk as your own fingers spread the wetness that’s been pooling between your thighs as you let your head fall back a little.

His eyes have been darkened by arousal before, but at your little performance, they’ve grown almost black now. It’s nearly enough to send you over the edge right then and there.

“I’m perfectly capable of finishing the job on my own,” you drawl, letting a lewd moan spill from your lips for effect as your fingertips start circling your clit.

It feels good.

It feels amazing.

It doesn’t feel half as amazing as it would if it were his fingers, though, and the cheeky expression on his handsome features tells you he knows that.

For a few moments, Alec stays where he is, eyes dark and devouring as he watches you, before he closes the few inches between the two of you with another searing kiss, his hands leaving your waist to gently grasp your wrists, pulling your hands away.

There’s no firmness in his grasp. If you wanted to, you could easily tear your hands out of his grip.

He’d never be rough with you. He’d never take control without asking for your permission first – Alec Hardy has never been anything but sweet and gentle with you.

Bantering has always been part of your relationship long before you let him into your bed, and it extends into every aspect of your relationship. Which is probably why sex with Alec Hardy is the best you ever had.

And which is probably one of the reasons why, despite his always-mildly-annoyed, grumpy exterior, it didn’t take long for you to fall for Alec Hardy in the first place.

As he gently pushes your hands behind your back, feverish kisses deepening, his clothed erection brushes against your core, and this time, it’s Alec who moans first, a deep, half-suppressed moan spilling from his throat as you roll your hips against him, desperate for more friction, for more of those sinful, sweet noises from him –

A soft click makes your eyes fly open to meet Alec’s smug little smirk.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” you gasp, eyes wide.

His grin turns even cheekier. “Yeah I did.”

The handcuffs he just closed around your wrists rattle softly as you test them, cool metal against your wrists.

“You’re under arrest,” Alec drawls, his Scottish accent growing thicker with his own arousal as he trails sloppy, feverish kisses down the side of your throat, over your collarbone, hands slowly unbuttoning your blouse to unveil the lacy black bra underneath telling him exactly what you were hoping for when you got dressed this morning, “For obstruction of police work.”

“Payback,” you breathe, arching into his kisses and unable to suppress a soft, breathless giggle, “Will be such a bitch, Alec Hardy.”

Your voice breaks as you watch him kneel before you, dark eyes sparking with arousal and affection and just the perfect amount of cheekiness as they hold yours.

He places a single, almost chaste kiss to the inside of your thighs before he breathes, “Then I better start making it up to you now.”

𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 🖤

#alec hardy #di alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #di alec hardy x reader #broadchurch #broadchurch fanfiction #david tennant #david tennant x reader

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 months

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.⋆｡Oasis｡⋆.

Stilgar x plus size reader

When the sand is still and the sun has set, you reflect on what has become of your life but there is someone unexpected who wishes to show you how valued you truly are

Warnings: some Dune 2 spoilers but nothing too major, suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, fluff, love confessions, hope , mentions of death and pregnancy

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You doubted that you would ever get used to the harshness of Arrakis. The heat and the perpetual dryness were a constant reminder about how far from home you really were but your duty was not to your own comfort, it was to your Lady Jessica. You followed her from the drowned planet of Caladin all the way here, protecting her and her son, as well as the unborn child within her.

The Fremen looked down on you, even after Jessica was named Reverend Mother and Paul became Muad'Dib, you were still the outsider, the one whose eyes had yet to be stained by the Spice. You got used to eating, sleeping and walking alone, the sand beneath your feet becoming the only thing you could count on. You trailed behind everyone else, they called you a waste of water and there were times that you couldn’t help but agree. You could not fight, nor harvest Spice, you were raised and trained to be a lady’s maid, destined to spend your days in the shadows observing the world around you as life passed you by.

You often wondered why Stilgar had fought so hard for you to stay with the Fremen when you had nothing to offer them. Even Lady Jessica couldn’t find a use for you anymore.

The moonlight cast a blue glow over the mountainous sand dunes and you could almost imagine that they were the ocean waves of your home planet. The camp was quiet, everyone having retired for the night an hour before yet you remained awake, deep in thought. No one would know you had gone until the morning, the wind would wash away your foot prints. You would give your water to the desert.

Just as you rose to your feet, a strong hand clamped down onto your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Why are you not resting Suhl?” Stilgar’s voice was quiet but it still held such power over you. You turned slowly in his hold to face him, yet he did not release your shoulder. His blue eyes shone like gems in the moonlight, making your heart jump and flutter.

“Forgive me for worrying you, I found that I couldn’t sleep.” You bowed your head. Stilgar tutted softly and hooked a finger beneath your chin, guiding your eyes back to his. His thick brows were pinched in confusion though his expression remained soft, far softer than you had seen him look at anyone else. He seemed doubtful of your excuse.

“How many times have I told you to come find me if you need something?” Your cheeks blazed with the heat of shame. Stilgar was a generous man, especially with those he cared for and inexplicably, he was almost too giving when it came to you. He gave you extra water when you had consumed yours too quickly, he showed you how to sand walk when your fear of the sand worms had mounted, he had even shared his tent with you on so many occasions that you had lost track of the number.

His hand shifted to your soft cheek, his calloused palm from a lifetime of fighting a stark reminder that you were not made for this life, this planet. “I can see that is not all that worries you Suhl. Tell me what troubles are clouding your mind.” You attempted to swallow down the thick lump trapped in your throat but when the older Fremen let his free hand wander to your lower back, his thumb gently rubbing the base of your spine, you choked on the tears you had not allowed yourself to shed.

“It is nothing.” You tried to deny and tug yourself away from the man that had been caring for you. Your eyes burned as he held you closer, a show of affection that you had never received before. He clicked his tongue at you, as if he were scolding a child.

“Suhl.” He cooed, dipping down to press his forehead to your own, the tips of your noses brushing together. You could no longer hold back.

The first tear that rolled down your full cheek shocked you both. It was quickly followed by another and another and another until they dripped down your chin and onto the loose white shirt Stilgar wore at night. You hiccuped and slumped into his strong chest. You clutched at his waist as you continued to sob but the Fremen, despite his constant insistence that absolutely no water could be wasted, gently rocked you back and forth, whispering comforting words into your hair, even if you couldn’t understand them.

“I shouldn’t be here. I should have been killed with the others when the Harkonnens. I am of no use to anyone and everyone knows it.” You pretend not to notice the way his muscles seize and he goes stiff in your arms, you wished to bask in his affections for as long as you could, before he too realised the truth.

His thumb ceased its movement and he slowly pried his chest away from yours. “Is that what you truly believe?” Your lack of an answer told him everything he needed to know.

He pulled you back into him, his thick arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders like he were fearful that you would suddenly dart away from him and into the desert where he could not follow you. Your eyes screwed shut as you curled into him. More tears stained his shirt but he did not flinch away from you.

“Do not waste your water on those who would not drink from you. You are better off crying for the dead.” A light breeze washed over the both of you, kicking up the sand around your feet. “You are not like us Suhl, you are soft where we are ruthless. It is true that you are not meant for this life but I would not have you take that light away from this world, not when I can keep you safe until this world is kind enough to let you bloom.”

“Why?”

His chuckle made your head bounce against his sternum. “I thought it obvious. You are my Suhl.” A hand came up to lovingly cup the back of your head, urging you to look him in the eyes. “Suhl means peace. And that is what you are: my peace. And one day, when the sands have disappeared beneath a sea of green and Dune is free once more, I hope that I shall be yours too.”

You can’t help but smile which in turn makes Stilgar beam, the blue of his eyes shimmering with what you now realised was love. “Thank you Suhl.” Your pronunciation was clumsy and most certainly needed some practice but still, he squeezed the base of your skull and dipped down, pressing his lips to yours.

The sun would rise soon and you would be forced back into the real world and all its dangers, but for now, you basked in the moonlight, safe in his arms. Perhaps Arrakis held more than just pain.

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vilsoo · 10 months

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୨⎯ CHAPTER ONE ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror…

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: sacrilege, religious slander, blasphemy, WC: 2,391

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral. banner art made in 2021 by chosofty!

‎ ST. REZE CATHEDRAL ‎ ֺ PRESENT TIME

‎ TOJI

I was born to be an affront to God.

A cruel infernal creature like me, born and raised in Hell, until, I made the decision to leave and never return. The regrets of leaving my past life in Hell started crawling down my spine these past few weeks. I knew I wasn't going to love my new life in the human realm either, but I had no choice. I had to be ordained as a Reverend for a Catholic University, where I sustain through dreadful church hours and its absurd practices.

From what I've witnessed in the course of religious history, the people of this church have less ethics than most witchcraft practitioners I've fucked in the past.

It was a shame for a man like me indeed. Accommodating these sheepish Catholics that devote to a religion I couldn't care less about— yet here I am personified as a Reverend fool. If my demon counterparts from Hell saw me like this months ago, the humiliation would infuriate me greatly. But now that I'm "reborn," I finally stopped giving a fuck of what humans and demons think of me.

Dark grey clouds shrouded over the cathedral as I saunter down the alleyway, stopping under an arch. Gloomy weather and heavy rain filling the campus felt oddly comforting to me. I had my cigarette, perching it between my lips as the fire of my lighter meets the end of the roll. I leaned against the roughness of the arch, watching the rain and exhaling the smoke. Then I allowed my mind to fall back to its numb state, feeling indifferent about being late for Mass.

It was annoying to find out that I wasn't alone, though. Because behind me, in this pouring alleyway, you found me.

The harsh splashes from the puddles could be heard from this distance. In need of shelter from the rain, you sprinted all the way to the arch where I was and halted right beside me, catching your breath. I must admit— I was a bit irritated of your abrupt presence. Having my peace disturbed as you scrutinize me with those mysterious, prying eyes of yours.

How the Hell did you even find me? A student like you was not supposed to be here.

My nonchalant, dead gaze remained on the cobblestone pavement as I inhaled. Part of me wanted you to leave. Gone. It's rude to stare, do you not know that? I assumed that my cold, aloof behavior from a Reverend like me was rather perverse and intimidating, especially when I'm smoking on these "sacred" church grounds without giving a damn. But you... you kept your gaze onto me like a moth to a flame.

I was a total stranger. You should've known this all along. But you still chose to stay with me here, and we stood in strained silence as the rain palpitated.

"Never seen a priest smoke before," you suddenly pondered, but your voice was loud and clear enough for me to hear amid the heavy rain.

I give a furtive glance from the corner of my eyes. A beam from the glowing streetlights nearby hovered over your face, the depths of your features visible for me to see. For a minute, I was intrigued. Piercing, beautiful eyes with a lurid gaze on me, evoking such curiosity as I have right now. I am once again met with the bitter taste of arson between my lips and exhaling the grey stench to the mist.

"Not a priest. Reverend," I deadpanned.

"Oh, sorry. Have I seen you before? I don't think I've seen you around at church. Were you just recently ordained?"

I had no desire to reply because I really don't care. It was pointless of me to since I wasn't in the first place. But something clicked in my mind once I took it to all in. You, an unsullied woman— gullible of the prospecting, flagrant danger you've now encountered. A student like you was never supposed to find me, yet here you are.

I hear a sigh fall from your lips, exasperated from how awkward our encounter was. "Nevermind, then. I'll just be heading to Mass now—"

"Don't," I retorted suddenly, completely nonplussed of the words that just slipped out of me. What the hell am I doing? "The walk to the cathedral from here is… too far. There's nowhere else for you to wait ‘til the rain dies down."

You scanned the area again, rubbing your arms as the chill from the mist crawled down your skin. "Are you sure you don't want me to go? I don't wanna bother you..."

How apologetic. Just like most of the sheepish Catholics here at St. Reze that practice a religion dedicated to forgiveness. Perhaps my hint of interest for you was enough to entertain me as the storm subsides. Encountering me while I'm slightly under the influence of drugs... Usually I have no desire to associate with pesky Catholics and students, but you...

I don't know why, but hearing your voice for the first time was like dipping into radiant honey and velvet. I felt inclined to speak my mind just so I can hear it again, tossing the worn out cigarette to a puddle and making the effort to face you completely.

The sky was now melting into darkness, shadows filling the angles of my face as I turned to you. "I think it'd be dumb of you to leave when it's raining this hard. And hopefully you're not a dumb girl, are you?"

I was expecting a more sheepish response, but you chuckled instead like it was a rhetorical question. Even the subtle grin stretching across your face somehow softened my nonchalant expression.

"How are you even a Reverend? You seem more like a layman to me."

"I wish," I mumbled. "But I wouldn't be making more money if I wasn't in the clergy."

"Just in it for the money? You're not… committed to serving the church?"

Fuck no, I replied in my head. But I decided to stay silent and stare at the sky, noticing you studying my emotionless face in the corner of my eyes. Naievety and gullibility is really in your nature, just like all the pathetic Catholics and penitents here. I fucking hated it, but your curiosity was just... delectable to me for some reason. It made a wave of questions rush in my head that I was tempted to solve myself.

"Are you?" I spoke sardonically, side-eyeing you.

“Yes. I am,” you replied confidently with a smile. “Serving God and attending the church has been a big part of my life.”

How sad. How pitiful. A lost little lamb like you, blinded by the wrong truths of an absurd religion just like everyone else here. Living by this pathetic promise of an eternity without sin, pain, and fear… But such servile mannerism from you strangely amused me; I wanted to provoke it just for the fun of it. Derisively taunt your beliefs little by little and take away that religious burden; almost like corrupting you…

I need to stop.

The heavy rain had finally subsided and the puddles on the ground were now gentle and smooth that a water lily can bathe in it. There was a soft rattling sound coming from the palm of your hand that I did not notice before. Something smooth and ivory, almost like pearl beads glimmering from the dull alleyway lamp posts.

"Anyways… Aren't you supposed to be at the church early?"

“Don’t really feel like going right now,” I prompted with a small smirk. “What’cha got there?”

“This? My rosary.”

Your hand opens to a sterling silver crucifix rested on your palm attached to luminous pearls and red beads shaped like rosebuds at the “Our Father” mysteries. I didn’t know that these “sacred” objects could be customized as decorative jewelry instead.

“We like to have our own decorated rosaries here,” you suddenly explained like you’ve read my mind. “You can tell a lot about a student’s personality with how unique they are.”

My gaze suddenly wonders to your face that was emerged from the shadows. Even though my eyes were tense and my jaw was clenched, it felt as if my expression was gradually softening. Maybe it was the cigarettes slowly easing me. Who knows? But perhaps something clicked in my mind tonight; the unexpected scenario of you rather beguiling me. A woman with shameless passion for some deity capturing my attention— that's something I'll never forgive myself for doing.

"Can I see yours?" you suddenly asked, your eyes meeting mines for the first time it felt like you eroded my senses. Such an innocent and mindless question, but yet here I am; taking in your curiosity that was just as deadly as lethal drugs were to humans.

I dig into the pockets of my cassock and open my lifeless hand without a word. This was the rosary I was given when I was ordained; acrylic resin beads of black enamel and a translucent smoke color, glassy and polished like gunmetal. You scrutinized it like you were in an endless trance. I couldn't understand what a stranger like you found so fascinating about it.

“It’s so… you,” you mused.

I frowned slightly, not really understanding what that meant either. “Well if you like it so much, have it.”

But I guess I have emerged from the shadows too. Maybe the cigarette was enough to ease my palpable mood from such a fortuitous encounter with you. I didn't want our conversation to end, though. I didn’t want any of this to end so soon. I was starting to feel some sort of amusement. But it wasn’t until you looked at me, really looked at me; your sultry eyes simmering as you met with mines.

No words. No words at all. It was just the soft rain and your fingers grazing my palm ever so gently. Those lingering wet fingertips as you unravel the beads like how a god would trace the outlines of spiritual blood vessels. I look down again when my palm meets a cooler surface. Your pearl rosary was dropped right in my hand.

"Mine for yours," you muttered with a soft smile. "I'll give it back at the end of Mass."

And just like that you head down to the cathedral, leaving me alone to contemplate everything. It makes me realize how I didn't want anything to do with you at first. How I barely cared for people like you… But it wasn't until a wondering sheep like you made its way through the darkest route, like the valley of the shadow of death, encountering your sin and fate right there…

It makes me wonder. Would a stranger like you worship me like you worship your god?

When the rain had finally cleared and the light of the monochrome moon poured over, I decided to come to Mass a few minutes later. The Saturday Communion prayer was being recited as I sauntered to the pew where the rest of the clergy sat while. As much as I hate this job and find these practices meaningless to me, I needed to get paid for this shit.

"Most glorious virgin Mary, mother of god and our mother, turn thine eyes in pity upon us miserable sinners. . ."

There were different ways Catholics receive the blood and body for the Holy Sacrament. We let the devotees take the chalice by hand at the altar, store it until they get back to their seats to drink, or let us place the chalice on their lips. But such practices were painfully unappealing to me who gets bored and impatient easily.

Drifting my attention from the service, I scrutinize the gothic architecture of St. Reze. The rays of the moonshine from the mosaic suddenly coruscated the pearl rosary you gave me. The light captures my gaze as it shimmers in the palm of my hand. My thumb grazes the glassy material and the memory of us under the rain immediately lingered in the edges of my mind. I look through the crowd of heads to find your familiar face.

There you were.

I found this all so amusing of you; that redundant devotion you display so proudly for your god. When the prayer finally finished and the devotees walked out of their pew, I watched as they kneel at the altar with their elbows pressed on the mahogany bar as they await for Holy Sacrament. Majority took the chalice by hand while others took it to their seats. After giving out the elements of consecrated bread and wine, repeating the words, it was finally your turn.

You shot a quick glance at me as you kneeled at the altar and signed the cross; the pure epitome of surrender and submission. Never in my years of this life have I met a woman with this kind of sensuousness. Both of your hands laid on your thighs and your neck was arched back, lips parted like an invitation for the wine.

Titillating. The way look at me from below with a half-lidded gaze. Your eyes have betrayed your true nature, more prurient than the last time we stared at each other.

Exhilarating. The way your lips travel to the moist spout of the gold, letting the bitter wine ravish your tongue. I watched your neck, the way how you swallowed. A small drip escaped, trailing down your chin.

It was lucky for you nobody has drank from that chalice before. But nothing about this was holy. If anything, this was sacrilege. I'm not one to crave for anyone's attention, especially from one like you; but I've finally got to taste it this very fine night. If only you knew what you were doing to me right now…

No words. Just the intense undertones of temptation we have suddenly surrendered to. Because that… that felt like worship.

That was what worship feels like from a stranger like you.

Then you were gone. I couldn't recall much after that, but I do remember, how my eyes followed you the whole night, diverting my attention to you at a distance where you could never leave my sight. Only then had I come to realization of your luscious features and a savoring body, like the essence of sweet nectar and ambrosia.

I couldn’t wait to see you again at confessionals.

TAGS: @suget @azanthys @haezen @heavenlyevil @saturniac @vampnyx @emomanswhore @divinedabi @slut-manifesto

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2023. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost/share any of my works where minors have access.

#ཐི♰ཋྀ ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄. ๋࣭ 𖤐 #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk toji #toji x reader

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theriverbeyond · 9 months

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Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, by pipstrelle/ @neornithes

Endpaper art: Grody Maritime Necromancy by @iris-of-the-lambs

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast.

or: THE MOBY DICK AU!! This fic has been an all time favorite of mine for so long, I am so excited to finally have been able to bind it!

Title font: AquilineTwo

Body font: Garamond

333 pages

Faux leather cover (Skivertex) with hand-embossed gold foil

Progress pictures/process under the cut!

The concept behind this fanbind is based on this specific special edition of Moby Dick by the Easton Press:

I did a TON of things for the first time on this bind much of it largely by winging it.

making the hubs (bumps on the spine)

first time rounding and backing (ft secret other binding project I can't show yet) + printing it off in the library

installing the FANTASTIC endpaper art (SOOO nervewracking), plus a close up shot of how I got the center crease to land JUST to the left of Harrow's face, which I'm super proud of.

foiling for days!! using the Easton Press edition as a guide, I mocked up a cover in MS Paint, then printed it off so I could foil it down. my hand was cramping but it was SO worth it!

and finally some unboxing pictures from the lovely writer!! so happy it arrived home safe and sound

#the locked tomb #fanbind #fanbinding #bookbinding #trb.txt #raxheim binds #THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE #excited to finaly post abt it!!!

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sosa2imagines · 3 months

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Town of Trouble.

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Chasing, forced touching, following, manipulation, somewhat dubcon/kidnapping, threats, angst ,fluff and slight mention of cannibalism. -----------------------------------------------------

You were beautiful and that was enough for him, to set his eyes on you.

You arrived in the town Knockemstiff along with your fiancé, to visit your aunt. This town is well known for the good, bad and the devil. But something about this town, was calming, yet terrifying.

You were tired from the long journey but the small town was a pleasant change from the busy city. You make your way to your aunt’s house, and she greets you warmly upon your arrival.

“Where’s the handsome owner of this ring?” Your aunt asks you, pointing to the expensive ring resting on your finger. “He was going to come, but got stuck with a work call, he has promised to come along with me later.”

“I’m happy for you kiddo, you found the best man in the world for yourself.” Your aunt smiles warmly, her approval meant a lot to you. After your parents died, she was the one to raise you. Before she moved in this town.

Your aunt didn’t allow you to visit this town, unless you were not coming alone. But you understood her concerns. This town was known as 'Town of Trouble'. The reverend who abused underage girls, only to get murdered by one of the victim’s brother. Serves him right in your eyes. The corrupt law and order of the town was another sad part. The drugs and other abuses going on, was another topic to discuss.

But now that you had a man, who would burn the world down for you, your aunt had nothing to worry about, you visiting Knockemstiff.

As you were leaving your aunt’s house to go back to the motel, on the way, the sheriff stopped you.

Lee Bodecker, the corrupt sheriff of Knockemstiff.

"Hey, beautiful," the sheriff leered at you.

You turned around and felt a shiver run down your spine as the sheriff's eyes raked over your body. "What are you doing all alone in this town?" he asked, slowly approaching you.

Lee had seen you on your way to your aunt’s place. He was instantly charmed by your beauty. He was waiting for you.

"I'm just visiting my aunt," you said nervously, trying to keep your cool.

"Are you sure that's all? I know boys come through here looking for girls like you. I’m Lee Bodecker, darlin." the sheriff leered again, getting closer to you. "N..nice to meet you Lee, but I should go," you said firmly, backing away from him.

"Oh, don't be so shy," Lee said, stalking towards you like a predator. "Just come with me," he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him. You struggled to free yourself from his grip, but he was too strong.

"No, let me go!" you screamed. Lee laughed, his breath hot against your face as he pulled you closer. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he murmured in your ear, sliding his hand up your leg.

"No! Stop it!" you cried, struggling desperately to free yourself from his grasp. Lee chuckled, enjoying your distress. "Just relax, beautiful," he said in a syrupy voice as he ran his hand up your thigh.

As much as Lee was enjoying at the moment, he could see some locals from his vision nearby, he couldn’t afford getting caught, harassing you. He had a reputation to maintain and an election to win.

He drags you into the car ignoring your protests, then locks the doors and starts driving away.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask, struggling to stay calm despite being terrified. "Just relax, beautiful," the sheriff says, his eyes staring at the road ahead.

He drives away from the town, taking a dark route through a forest. As he drives, his hand begins to slide up your leg again, making you quiver with fear. Lee slowly drives through the dark forest, taking a winding route that leads to a secluded, isolated location. Lee's hand slowly slides up your leg again, but this time he moves it even higher, making you feel even more uncomfortable and scared.

Lee suddenly pulls over and stops the car, making you jerk in your seat. "Here we are," he says, looking at you with a predatory look on his face. You look around, realizing that you are in a thick forest, far from the town.

"Get out of the car," Lee says, a sinister look in his eyes. You hesitate, knowing that getting out of the car would be a dangerous situation. "I said get out," he says, his voice growing rougher with each word.

His anger scares you, but you have no other choice. You slowly open the car door and get out, trying not to show any fear or resistance.

"Good girl," the sheriff says, leaning against the car as he watches you. Lee slowly walks towards you, licking his lips.

"I am engaged, and my fiancé is a dangerous man," you say in a warning tone. Lee's expression darkens, and his eyes flicker with malice.

" I don't care about your fiancé, do you think that little punk can protect you?" Lee asks, his tone mocking and dismissive. "I'm the sheriff of this town, I can do whatever I want with you," Lee growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you roughly towards him. He presses himself against you, and you feel a wave of fear as his hands slide down your shoulders and grip your hips.

"Please, let me go," you beg him, feeling terrified. But Lee is not easily intimidated.

"I'm not going to let you go," he says, his tone becoming more menacing. "I want you to stay with me for a while, just keep quiet and I'll treat you nicely."

You feel powerless and afraid. Lee is strong and powerful, and you have no way to escape. You can't fight him off, and your threats have no effect on him. All you can do is beg and hope for mercy.

"Please let me go," you plead with Lee, your voice growing more desperate.

"What's the point of fighting it?" he says, his grip on you tightening. "Just come with me, it's better if you don't struggle."

Feeling helpless and desperate, you suddenly realize that you have no choice but to do what Lee says. You struggle to keep calm, but your heart is racing, and your body is trembling with fear.

Meanwhile….

Bucky is searching for you, worried and concerned. Bucky your dangerous to the world, but extremely sweet to you fiancé. He hasn't been able to reach you on your phone, and he has no idea where you may have gone. He is getting more and more anxious as time goes on. It’s been more than two hours since, you left your aunt’s house.

“Sam, track her phone!” “I’m trying Buck, the signal is weak in this damn town.”

Bucky was getting sick worried, if only he had gone with you. But he can’t change that, it is what you had thought him. Learn from the past and improve.

“Bucky, found her. Her phone is tracking location to the forest outside town.” “Shit, send me the location.”

Present Time….

Bucky races through the woods, his heart pounding, as he gets closer and closer to the location that Sam gave him. Bucky arrives at the location that Sam had given him, and he sees the sheriff's car parked in a clearing. He immediately fears the worst and races towards the car as there was no reason for you to be in a sheriff’s car. He checks the car and find’s Lee’s driver’s license. He squares his jaw, determined to protect you at all costs.

Bucky arrives just in time to witness Lee trying to take you away. He sees that you are already terrified and afraid, and he gets filled with rage at the thought of the sheriff trying to hurt you.

"Let her go," Bucky says in a fierce tone, stepping forward to protect you. Lee looks at him, with no sign of fear or respect.

“Bucky!” you cry, finding some relief seeing him.

"Shut up!” Lee tightens his grip on your arm, making you cry in pain. “Why should I?" Lee says, his voice dripping with disdain. "She's mine now."

Bucky's blood boils at Lee's arrogant response. Bucky's anger bursts forth, and he takes a step forward.

"Back off, boy," Lee says, his tone full of contempt and arrogance. Bucky's determination to rescue you only grows stronger as he takes another step forward, moving closer to Lee and you.

"I'm the sheriff of this town, I can do whatever I want with her," Lee says, his grip tightening on you. Bucky's anger reaches its limit as he takes another step forward despite Lee's threats. His hands clenched into fists. He's not going to let anything happen to you.

"I'm the law here, back off," Lee says again, but his tone is more aggressive and threatening. Bucky doesn't listen, "Leave her alone," Bucky says through gritted teeth, as the sheriff's grip on you becomes tighter.

"You have no idea how dangerous I am," the sheriff says in a threatening voice. "Just keep quiet if you don't want to get hurt," he adds, glaring at him with menace.

"I don't care how dangerous you think you are," with that Bucky's fist collides with Lee's jaw, making him loose balance and letting go of you.

"You little punk," Lee growls, rubbing his sore jaw. You feel relieved as you realize that you are no longer in Lee's grasp. But things aren't over yet. Bucky is quick to take you in his arms, checking for any injuries.

"You think you can just punch me and get away with it?" Lee asks, getting up and facing Bucky, who is staring back at him with a fiery look in his eyes.

"Yes, but this is just the beginning," Bucky says, his eyes filled with fury as his fists get ready for action again. Lee's face darkens, and he clenches his fists ready to attack, but he is no match for Bucky’s skills.

Lee gets beaten up pretty badly by Bucky, who punches him in the face repeatedly, throwing punches after punches. Lee's face is bloodied, his nose is broken and his left eye is swollen. He's completely at a loss as to how to defend himself against such a fierce and relentless man.

Before leaving, Bucky stares at Lee with a menacing look. "If you ever come near her again, it won't be just a punch in the face that you get" he says, his voice cold and fierce. Lee nods in understanding, his face still battered and bruised. “Hmm..maybe I’ll have my cousin Steve pay you a visit, he’ll sure love to relish you.” Lee in his battered and bruised condition, looks at Bucky in confusion.

Relief washes over you, seeing the nightmare is over. You hug Bucky tightly, who let's you cry in his arms letting you take as much time as you want.

Bucky takes you by the hand and leads you away from the forest, back to the car and back to the motel. “Doll, the bathtub is ready, why don’t you go in and I’ll join you in few minutes?”

You smile at the thought of a warm bath after your traumatic experience. “Bucky, thank you, if you didn’t…” Bucky, does not let you complete the sentence, he himself does not want to think what could have happened, if he was late. “No thinking about that, now go in” He says in a stern yet playful voice, swatting your ass.

Once he is sure, you are inside, he calls Steve “I want you to come to Knockemstiff.” “I don’t know, from what I have seen from the picture you sent, he is a lot…you know what I mean?” “He dared to touch my Y/n!” “Y/n? Why didn’t you say so? Of course, I’m coming…maybe I’ll even share him with rest of the jerks over there.”

“See you soon Kemp.”

#sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes au #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fanfiction #dark lee bodecker

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the-acid-pear · 2 years

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Every time this song starts playing i just feel like standing up and pulling out a lighter to wave around slowly

#luly talks #this album is literally my new our lady of the broken spine 💀💀#hollow man was my new god help you dumb boy and this one is my uh. well this is my sleep sweet countrymen #the pit is more of a king of men but that's a disservice to king of men #but that's bc reverend glasseye just goes too hard #Spotify

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inkofthebrain · 10 days

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Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 2523 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions. Jessica being Jessica once more….

A/n: Once again, we will see more Paul soon. Just trust. I hope you guys enjoy!

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Four———

[Six days until the ceremony]

It is always is the same recurrent nightmare.

Trapped in the desert once more, surrounded by dunes. The sky is an angry crimson, and the temperature is impossibly hot. There is a storm growing on the horizon, and the wind is whipping up the sand into your eyes.

You are filled with a growing sense of hysteria, as you are overwhelmed by the burning heat and the constant bombardment of sand.

It grows darker, and the storm grows in intensity. You start to feel frantic, your breathing heavy, your heart pounding in your chest. A thunderous, booming voice fills your mind.

"Fear is the mind-killer," it whispered, "Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.”

The sand whipping around you begins to feel like glass, slicing away at you.

“I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.”

A wave of pure terror washes over you, a feeling of doom and impending doom growing stronger.

“And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Just as you think you can't handle it anymore, you jolt awake. You eyes adjust to the light, and you begin to make out the figure who had awoken you, standing above.

“Irulan?” You question as she begins to take a few steps back from you bedside as you swiftly began to sit up.

Her ceremonial Bene Geserit attire immediately caused chill to run down your spine. She stands near your doorway, you could barely make out the cold, emotionless look on her face through the thick black veil.

"It is time to meet with Reverend Mother Jessica... come, let us be quick."

You shoot up in bed and instantly start pummeling questions at her. Why is she here? Where is father? Has something happened?

She avoids your questions, seemingly aware of your growing frustration and confusion. She speaks in a flat, emotionless tone, with no hint of emotion or explanation.

“Come”

She leads you out of your room, walking down the hallway and taking you to the library. She is silent, the only sound coming from her is her footsteps echoing lightly off the tiled floors as you make your way to the library.

You can feel your blood rushing through your entire body, anxiety follows.

As you stop outside the room your sister turns to you and takes your hands and squeezing them lightly. “You must obey the mother, sister, please.” Before you can say a word she shoves you into the room.

Standing opposite you is Jessica Atreides, dark black robe and tight black veil covering her face, the only glimpse of her being the blue gleam from her eyes.

Once the door closes, you speak “I demand to know what is going on.” Your voice is stern and booms through the empty library.

“The beginnings of the truth” she says coldly. "Now, come here," she gestures for you to move closer to her.

You silently walk towards her, heart pounding out of your chest as Jessica’s demeanor becomes harder, and her tone becomes sharper.

"Kneel. Show respect and obedience. You must prove your willingness."

“Prove my willingness?” You question

“Silence!”

Her gaze remains steadily on you, demanding your submission. She moves her right hand revealing a box. As you kneel down in front of jessica, your eyes fixate on the box she has just uncovered.

“Put your hand in the box”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with questions. What does this mean? What will happen when you put your hand in the box?

As you extend your hand towards the box, suddenly Jessica thrusts the gom jabbar towards your neck, holding it firmly against your skin.

“An animal caught in a trap will naw off its own leg. What will you do? Resist your impulses? Or die like an animal?” She says.

The words hit you like a blow, a cold chill running down your spine. You realize that the test is about more than just physical pain; It's about the mind and the strength to resist the instincts of self-preservation.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still and resist the urge to pull away from the gom jabbar at your neck. You look up at jessica, your expression defiant but determined.

Slowly, with nervous determination, you place your hand into the box. Suddenly, a searing hot, sharp pain washes over you, causing you to flinch and cry out in pain.

With each moment, the pain grows more intense, as if a molten fire is spreading from your hand to every nerve ending of your body. The agony is overwhelming, and it feels like a thousand knives are piercing your flesh. It is beyond anything you could have imagined, and your resolve is tested to the limit.

Tears stream down your face, and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You feel the blood pulse in your ears as the pain courses through you. Yet, despite the overwhelming pain, you find a deep, powerful, almost hypnotic focus. The gom jabbar at your throat now feels like a caress compared to the excruciating agony in your hand. Your entire awareness is concentrated on the pain, your world narrowed down to this single, burning sensation.

Just as suddenly as the pain started, it begins to subside. the intensity gradually lessens, until eventually, The pain is gone.

You look up at jessica, your eyes wide and tearful. You see a sense of pride in her eyes, and a small smile on her lips. "You did it," she murmurs softly, her gaze steady on you. "You passed the test."

As you stand before Jessica, your gaze is steady, but your expression is sullen. Despite your success in enduring the box, you are filled with anger and resentment. You know the pain and trauma you've endured, and all the deception that led you here.

You look at her, your eyes hard and defiant. "What now?" you demand, your voice tense and angry.

Her voice is low and soothing. "In order to prepare you for what will be, I must first help you remember what has been done before. I will reveal to you a secret that is known only to the most devout of the Bene Geserit, our sisterhood's most closely guarded mystery."

She continues speaking, her voice growing more intense with each word. "All this time since birth, your body has been shaped and trained to fulfill this moment. It has been honed, conditioned, and prepared for this specific purpose.

"From your early days of life, you were conditioned and trained by your mother and sister in our ways," She explains, "There has been a master plan set in motion, orchestrated by our sisterhood, in order to ensure that your union with paul will be the most significant one in history."

Jessica continues, still speaking calmly but with a sense of intensity underlining her words. "There is a prophecy, that a special individual, known as the Kwisatz Haderach, would be born. A male Bene Geserit.

We have been watching and manipulating circumstances to fulfill this prophecy for generations. Paul is the one who was foretold, and he will be able to bring about the desired outcome we so greatly need."

You are left standing in silence, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of all the information that has just been presented to you. As jessica speaks, it is clear that she fully believes in the prophecy and its implications.

Fate is something you never believed in, yet as the wool that has been placed over your eyes starts to slip you realize—your fate has been decided centuries before your birth.

She looks at you, her face serious but understanding. "You will make the future bright for the imperium.”

jessica looks at you calmly, her demeanor unfazed by your anger. "Now you will continue your preparation for the marriage to Paul. There is much more to do, and you must be ready to fulfill your purpose."

"I understand you must feel betrayed," she adds, her tone softer now, "but understand that what we are doing is for the greater good of the Imperium."

For all her soft words, you cannot shake the feeling of betrayal. You know that you have been pushed and manipulated into this role, and you cannot help but feel resentment and anger toward those who have done this to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain control of your emotions. "What happens when paul and i marry?" you ask, your tone cautious.

“We leave for Arrakis.”

You feel a sense of dread wash over you at the mention of the desert planet arrakis. You know that the journey there will be perilous, and that the environment there is harsh and unforgiving. Nonetheless, you nod, determined to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

"And what comes after that?" you ask, pressing for more details.

"Once we arrive, you will play a crucial role in the upcoming war with the house harkonnen," Jessica explains. "You must learn the ways of the freemen, and help Paul navigate the treacherous political landscape. he needs your support now more than ever."

You mull over her words, feeling a sense of burden and responsibility settling down upon you. This is not what you had expected or wanted, but you know you have no choice in the matter.

Jessica looks at you intently, as if reading your thoughts. "You may not have chosen this fate,” she says quietly. "but it is yours nonetheless. And you will find that the path you follow is one of great honor and significance."

You nod silently, your mind still swirling with confusion and resentment.

"For now, you should rest," Jessica says, her voice gentle. "You have faced great trials today, and you need time to recover and process all that has happened."

You feel relieved by her offer. Yes, you think, a chance to clear your mind and gather your thoughts would be welcome. You nod weakly in agreement, and jessica gives you a small, reassuring smile. "Goodnight, my dear. we shall speak again soon."

You turn your head as you hear the door open. you look up in surprise as irulan enters the room. A pang of anxiety and unease washes over you as you wonder why she has come. Was she privy to all that has been said and done here?

Irulan gazes at you with a cool, unreadable expression, her demeanor giving away nothing. Her presence makes you feel on edge, as if she is both an ally and an enemy at once. You wait in anticipation for her to speak, your mind swirling with questions and suspicions.

“I shall walk you back to your room, sister” she says

You look at her hesitantly, not entirely sure if you trust her. But you know that you have no reason not to go with her, and you feel too exhausted to protest. You nod silently, signaling your assent, and together, you leave the room with her.

As you walk side by side, Irulan is silent for a long moment. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but confident. "You are a brave one, to have endured the box. few could ever imagine the pain of that test."

You look at her, unsure of how to respond. what was her purpose in telling you this? Was it a genuine compliment, or a veiled threat? You remain cautious, waiting for her to reveal her intent.

She continues, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "however, be warned, sister. There are many more trials ahead, and some may be even more difficult to bear."

You feel a chill run down your spine at her words. You had imagined that the test of pain was the worst that you would face, but now you realize that it was only the beginning.

“What is to happen to father after the wedding, do you know?”

Irulan glances at you, a small, barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "As i suspected," she murmurs, almost to herself.

Before you can respond, she continues. "you are concerned for father, i see. Rest assured, he will play a pivotal role in the events that loom on the horizon."

You feel a brief sense of relief at her words, but you cannot help but sense that they are not the full truth. why won't she just be straight with you?

"There is more to this, is there not?" you say, your voice tinged with skepticism. "I sense that you are withholding information from me. Why?"

Irulan pauses for a moment, her expression inscrutable. "You are wise, sister," she says finally. "Many pieces are still in motion, and i cannot reveal all at this moment. I promise you, in time, all will be made clear."

You study her face for a moment, searching for any sign of deception or falsehood. She maintains her composure, giving nothing away. you sigh, frustrated but resigned.

"Fine," you say, "I shall have to wait then. but I hope you will not keep me in the dark for much longer."

"Have no fear, sister," Irulan replies, her tone gentle yet firm. "I understand your desire for knowledge, but sometimes it is best to wait and observe. Trust in the process, and in due time, all will be made clear to you."

With that, she gives you a small nod, and you continue walking side by side in silence.

You feel uneasy as you reach your room, unsure of how to interpret irulan's words. Was she truly on your side, or did she have some ulterior motive? You decide to take her advice and wait for the full truth to come to light, and hope that it would be worth the wait.

"Thank you, Irulan," you say, turning to face her. "Your guidance, though cryptic, has been valuable."

She looks at you for a moment, then nods slightly. "goodnight, sister. sleep well."

You send her a warm smile as you stop outside your chambers. “I hope this is not our last encounter…” you say

Irulan gives you a small, enigmatic smile in return. "Fear not, sister. our paths will surely cross again."

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and uncertainty.

You enter your chambers, feeling both relieved and confused. you sit down on your bed, trying to make sense of the day's events. your mind is a swirl of emotions, from pain and fear to hope and determination.

You lay down, closing your eyes, but sleep does not come easily. Your mind is still racing, trying to process all that has happened. but eventually, fatigue wins over, and you drift off into an uneasy slumber. It is always the same nightmare.

———

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