Latest Posts by oneandonlybbygrl - Page 2

Not Our First Fan

Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink

WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)

A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

Y/N POV

I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.

I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.

“The truth.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.

“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”

I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.

“Is there a question, or…?”

Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.

“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”

He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.

“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”

My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.  

I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.

“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”

God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.

“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.

“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”

As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.

“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”

“Dean!”

I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.

-

I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties. 

I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.

As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.

I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.

“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.

“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”

I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.

“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”

As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.

“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!

“Why would I want you to leave?”

His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.

“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”

Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.

“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”

He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.

“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”

Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.

I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.

As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.

“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”

I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.

“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”

I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.

-

Dean POV

God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.

Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.

“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Sam, I told you to leave it.”

“No, Dean!”

His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.

“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“She’s not a threat, Sam.”

“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”

“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”

My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”

My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.

“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”

His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.

“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.

“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”

I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.

-

It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.

There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.

It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice. 

I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.

“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it

“Is everyone alright?”

“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”

“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”

The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.

“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”

She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.

“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”

She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.

“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”

It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.

“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.

“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”

We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.

When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.

“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”

“You sure?” 

She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”

I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.

-

Y/N POV

What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.

When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.

Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)

It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?

I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.

I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?

When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt. 

“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.

“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.

Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?

Turns out, not long at all.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Hey, Dean. Need something?”

Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.

“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”

This really was happening.

“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.

“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”

“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.

Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.

“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.

-

Dean POV

It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.

I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.

But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.

Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.

She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.

Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.

When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.

I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

-

Sam POV

I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.

“Het, got a minute?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sam, I told you-”

“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”

My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.

“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”

As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.

“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”

Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.

“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”

She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.

“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.

“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”

He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.

-

I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.

While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.

Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?

“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”

-

Y/N POV

After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.

“Are we done? Can I go?”

I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.

“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”

“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”

“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.

“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.

“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”

He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.

-

Dean POV

Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.

“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”

“Dean, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”

“Whoa, I’m not-”

“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.

“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”

“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”

“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”

“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.

I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.

-

Sam POV

Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.

After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.

My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.

I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.

I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.

-

Dean POV

Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.

Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.

She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?

The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?

I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.

Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.

I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.

-

Y/N POV

Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.

Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.

This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.

I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.

I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.

I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.

“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.

“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”

Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.

“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”

Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.

“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.

He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.

“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”

Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.

-

Dean POV

“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”

She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.

When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.

“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.

“I thought Baby needed work?”

I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.

“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”

“Oh.”

She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others. 

She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.

Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.

I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.

“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, this is great!”

She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.

“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”

She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”

She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.

The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.

“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”

I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.

“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”

She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?

-

Y/N POV

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”

“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”

“I would have said I respect and admire you.”

“But not that you love me? Why?”

I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.

“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”

I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.

“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”

I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.

“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.

“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”

The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.

“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.

“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.

I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.

“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.

“I’ll drink to that!”

We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.

-

Dean POV

It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.

I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.

But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.

“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.

I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.

“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.

“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”

“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.

As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.

I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.

“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.

“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.

I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.

“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.

Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.

-

Y/N POV

I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.

With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.

“Race you to the car?”

I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.

Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.

“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.

“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”

I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.

I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.

“Y/N.”

Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.

His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.

He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.

I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.

-

Dean POV

Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.

If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.

How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?

The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.

“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”

I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.

I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.

As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire. 

She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.

-

Y/N POV

I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.

“Dean, take me to bed?”

I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.

“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”

That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.

He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.

“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.

“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”

I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room.  Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.

He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.

-

Dean POV

She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.

I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.

I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.

As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.

“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.

“Y/N!”

It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.

She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.

“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed again and kissed her soundly.

“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.

As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.

“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”

Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.

-

Y/N POV

Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.

He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.

Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.

“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.

His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.

“My…my breeding kink.”

I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.

-

Dean POV

Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.

I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.

Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.

As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.

“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”

I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.

In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.

-

Y/N POV

My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.

I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.

I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.

He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.

“Dean!”

I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.

God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.

I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.

I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.

“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”

I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.

“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”

God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

-

Dean POV

She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.

As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.

“Dean?”

Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.

“Wanna feel you come.”

My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.

“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”

She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

“So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.

I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.

She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.

I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.

I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.

I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.

“No. Don’t move. Please.”

I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.

-

Y/N POV

Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.

“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”

“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.

“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.

“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.

-

When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.

Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.

“Hey.”

I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.

He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.

He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.

He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.

-

Dean POV

When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.

She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.

I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.

I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.

She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.

Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.

Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.

I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.

I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.

This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me. 

God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.

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cannot stop thinking about being both paul and irulan's concubine. an imperial whore of all sorts 😫

honestly, they just KNEW what they were doing with that casting. UGGHH !!

scissoring, oral, r described as a girl & PRINCESS IRULAN + PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

you represent different things for both of them.

for irulan, you're an outlet. you're not as much experimentation as you are familiar territory. her teenage years were spent with girls like you. girls who looked at her with stars in their eyes and kissed her entirely too gently. girls who fawned over her beauty yet appeared just as beautiful beneath her.

so when she's with you, when you start to behave like the girls she left behind to marry the emperor, irulan falls back into her old pattern. it's dizzying to finally be wanted again. it's addicting to feel a pretty girl shiver and shake beneath her fingers, with assurance that the courteous and honest act of admiration will be returned onto her soon thereafter.

for paul, you're a different form of familiarity. you're familiar in ways of a dream, deja vu, or perhaps a memory slipping through his fingers. you remind him of chani in small ways. the way your chin tilts up when he addresses you. the way you'll teach him something, but only if he asks you to. the way you can be headstrong, usually when you're in his quarters, stripped of your responsibilities and your clothes.

you're not supposed to deny the emperor anything, especially as his concubine, but disobedience comes naturally to you. like the time you'd visited him on arrakis, away from corrino and irulan for just a bit, and paul's overzealous attitude had you on the brink of releasing copious amounts of fluids along his lithe hips and short tuft of pubes.

you weren't a layman, you understood the necessity of fluids on arrakis. so you refused and refused, trying to push paul away as you neared the brink. but paul ordered you to release all over him. he assured you that you would be fine, and it wouldn't be a sign of disrespect to unnecessarily lose this much fluid in one go because you were doing it at the hands of their leader.

paul won't lay with irulan, but he'll lay with you after her. when your skin still smells faintly of flowers and greenery. when you still have her fluids combined with yours between your legs.

you see the way he revels in the evidence of irulan on your body. you notice the way he nuzzles his head between your thighs when irulan's arousal still coats your skin. his tongue, warm and flat, runs along your skin, cleaning you up. and he'll groan afterwards, allowing himself a moment to rest his forehead against your inner thigh, just taking it all in.

he'll seek you out when you're with her, uncaring of the way your naked bodies writhe against each other atop irulan's bed. and he can just come join you two. you always give him a few moments, stretching longer and longer each time he does it. you won't stop, your hips still gliding to and fro, dragging your cunt against irulan's all while you stare at the emperor.

but paul will stand still. his hands clasped behind his back, his curly hair hanging over his hardened face, his expression stoic even when you can see the way his throat bobs and his eyebrows twitch.

he'll often say the same thing. "must you finish here, first?" or something along the lines. and then he'll leave you be, waiting in his own quarters with a rock hard dick nestled beneath linen fabric.

but there's one time—just once where his cobalt eyes appeared weary before morphing into desire. he licked his lips, his fingers twitching against his sides as he hungrily took in the sight before him.

irulan noticed it as well as you did. she began to put on a show.

the empress has always had melodic moans, but she began to emphasize them. with your mouth latched onto her cunt, irulan made sure paul knew how good you were making her feel.

when you heard the sound of paul approaching you both, excitement flooded your body. finally paul would allow himself simple pleasures. and he did, starting with pulling your mouth off of irulan's cunt and tasting her off of your own tongue. when he seemed satisfied at a taste he knew as well as he knew yours, he gently urged you out of the way, and assumed the position of a dutiful husband.

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ between us 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

OPs NOTES ⁞ a/n: from an anon request. just a fun lil drabble // Summary: Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.

MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.

It’s late when Feyd finally comes to your shared bedchamber. His days have grown longer ever since taking up the title of Baron. He resents that it takes him away from you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made him truly happy. But this burden is his honor and his duty as his uncle’s chosen heir. Though he spends so many hours away from you, he always makes sure to return to your bed and only yours every night. He had his fun with his concubines, memories that he looks back on with fondness, but now? He can’t imagine being with anyone but you. His pets have fallen to the wayside ever since the first time he had you. 

Nothing and no one else could ever satisfy him the way you do.

Feyd expects you to come running into his arms, embracing him as you always do. He is a cold man, bloodthirsty and cruel, but your love and affection softens him. He frowns when he opens the door and sees you standing at the balcony, wearing your nightgown. The moon lights up your skin, making you look like some sort of ethereal goddess. He approaches you, moving your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice.

He turns you around to face him, hands cupping your face as he questions, “What troubles you?”

As if waking from a trance, you blink, meeting his gaze with a melancholy smile, “Nothing, my lord. Everything is fine.”

Your answer comes a moment too quickly and Feyd shakes his head, “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

You pause before sighing, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

The way you ask is so endearing that he can’t help but nod, “I promise.”

“One of your… Concubines…” It’s as if you struggle to say the word, your innocence bringing a smile to his face as he forces himself to hold back a chuckle, “One of them approached me and…” You shake your head, cutting yourself off, “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Feyd narrows his eyes, gripping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly, “Tell me.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes, the sight of which has never failed to make his heart, which he once thought to be nonexistent, melt, “She said a weak little thing like me could never satisfy you the way the three of them did. That you’ll grow bored of me and come back to them. That you don’t…”

The way your breath hitches, tears pooling in your eyes…

Rage fills your husband, fire in his veins, “That I don’t what, little one?”

“That you don’t love me. That you never will,” comes your anguished whisper. Feyd lets out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feyd, please don’t be angry with me, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

He quickly realizes that you’ve mistaken his anger as being directed toward you and loosens his grip, shaking his head though his expression is still furious, “I’m not angry at you. I would never be angry at you. You are the only one who brings any sense of calm into my life, little one. You are my wife. I chose you.”

He releases you from his grip, stalking past you toward the door. 

Your lips part in surprise as you stare after him, confused, “My lord?”

Feyd pauses, turning to look at you, pulling his dagger from its sheath, gritting his teeth, “I have to take care of something, my love. I’ll return soon.”

“FEYD?!”

His grin is bloody at the sound of your shriek, the heads of his three concubines thrown at your feet. Feyd chuckles as you scramble backward on the bed, staring at the disembodied heads with shock. He crawls over your body, feeling pleased when you calm at his touch, your hands resting on his cheeks, still stained with blood. He traces your lips with his thumb, watching as your eyes flutter shut at his touch.

“I will never let anyone come between us, little one,” he rasps, pressing his lips to your jaws, the blood of his concubines staining your skin, “Never. You are the one I love, the one I chose. I never went to see them after I took you as my own because I know their touch could never satisfy my lust, my love the way yours can.”

You kiss him, your legs parting to accommodate his frame as his tongue moves against your own. He’s eager tonight, you muse, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against you. He moves your underwear to the side, fingers stroking at your slit, a wicked smile on his face.

“Seeing your lord husband painted in blood made you so wet,” Feyd whispers, “It seems my little wife isn’t so innocent after all.”

You bite back a smile as he spreads your thighs, mouthing at your wet cunt. And when you close your eyes, your head falling back against your pillow, he lands a slap against your center. A reminder that if you don’t keep your eyes locked on him, what he’s doing to you, he won’t allow you to reach your peak. He moans, pulling you in close, burying his face between your legs, inhaling your scent as he continues lapping at your folds like a man starved. Your fingers twist in the silken bedsheets, losing yourself in the pleasure he gives you, reaching your peak against his tongue, pulling him into another kiss as he crawls over you.

“No woman could ever taste as sweet, mewl my name so perfectly,” he vows, slipping his pants down to reveal his pale cock, already achingly hard, leaking from the tip, “It’s only you, my love. No one will ever come between us. Not even death.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him rut against you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you, your nails raking down the pale skin of his back, leaving an angry red trail in their wake. Feyd bites down hard on your neck, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark. You take his hand, bringing it to your throat, and Feyd immediately knows what you wish of him. He squeezes, restricting your airflow, smirking at the way it makes your body tense, your peak quickly approaching once again. Your eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, his hot seed filling you.

Perhaps you seemed a sweet, unassuming little thing to your husband’s former lovers. But they didn’t realize that the longer you spent with him, the more your tastes began to mirror those of your husband.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss, uncharacteristically gentle and yet still so very passionate as he vows to you once again, “I love you. Nothing will ever come between us.”

You grin, moving to lay on top of him, raking your nails down his chest as you whisper, feeling his cock already beginning to twitch against your thigh, “I believe you, my husband.”

Feyd chuckles, hands moving to palm at the flesh of your ass, groaning slightly as you continue your ministrations, clearly not wanting tonight’s fun to be through, “What a greedy little monster I’ve made of you, little one.”

Don't Touch What’s His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad.

Notes/Warnings: mention of blood and mutilation, inflicted wounds, and possessiveness. Related to the fic titled His, but this can be read alone. Typos (just being real)

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You’re screaming for him before you’re even fully awake, shrieking his name before you can begin to grasp what’s happening to you. All you know is that you’re no longer warm, no longer safe as you’re yanked from his arms and dragged to the bottom edge of the bed. Claws are digging into your calf as primal grumbles and growls and the distinct sound of lips smacking in anticipation reach your ears. Your body is being pulled further and further away, and no pawing at the sheets helps to keep you on the mattress.

Another plea for him is on the tip of your tongue, but then a hand wraps around your arm, engaging in a tug-of-war with whatever monster has a hold on you. Scrapes make lines down your leg as you dig your heels into the bed and back yourself away from the clawed being. You take a few deep breaths and blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I told you she’s off limits!” Feyd shouts in a terrifying tone. A tone most commonly reserved for those who inconvenience him: servants and prisoners and his brother. It’s not his low timbre; it’s much more powerful. So powerful that you half-expect a crack to split open the floor.

You blink again and crane your neck to peer over the foot of the bed at who he scolds. Feyd’s harpies are on their hands and knees, staring a hole into your head. It’s a daring choice. When Feyd speaks, those around must be attentive with eyes and ears, but the harpies don’t so much as glance in his direction. They’re here for you, they want you, and clearly nothing else.

“But she looks so yummy,” one of them says, a pout forming on her lips.

“And she smells even better,” the second adds. Her tongue swipes over a sharpened fang.

All three of them begin to crawl across the floor until they’re at your side of the bed. Feyd’s fingers tighten around your arm, his eyes narrowing, and you lean back against his chest just in case they get the idea to lunge at you.

“We won’t eat very much of her,” the third purrs as her hand slithers over the silky sheets, inching toward your body. “Just a few little bites. Plenty left over for our lord na-baron to enjoy.”

When her pointed nails graze your ankle, Feyd leans around you, grabs her wrist, and sharply twists until there's a snap. She yelps. Your body jolts. Tears build in the corners of her eyes. Your jaw drops.

Immediately, they appear to sober up. Their hunger, if still there, doesn’t lust for you so intensely now that fear has taken over.

“You will not sink your filthy fangs into her,” Feyd spits, baring his teeth. “She’s mine. Her flesh, her blood, all of her—mine.” The other two harpies shrink and skitter away from their injured sister. “If I wanted to share, I would have.”

Feyd releases his harpy. She cradles her broken wrist, whimpers emitting from her throat as she scoots back to join the others. They feel safer in a pack. Though you don’t think that will aid them in this case.

“W-We just thought she wouldn’t matter to you,” one of them mutters, her chin tucked to her chest. “We thought you could find another plaything.”

Feyd’s face darkens. The icy blue of his glare wavers under the force of a burning red. As he moves to stand, he jerks you to his side of the bed, separating you from the beastly women by a few more feet.

“What did you just say to me?” he grits out, rounding the mattress and stopping in front of them.

The harpies glance at each other in panic before looking back at their master. “W-We didn't mean–”

“It appears I’ve treated you too well,” he says decisively. “If you’re bold enough to defy my orders, then perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”

You gulp. You’ve heard that tone. You’ve heard those words. But you have a feeling Feyd’s threats toward his harpies are not as empty as the ones he throws at you, and it makes your stomach squeeze.

Your presence in Giedi Prime’s fortress being the indirect cause of their harm is nothing less than unjust. It’s not their fault their master brought fresh meat home. They cannot control what they are, and Feyd routinely encourages their behavior, excluding only you from the list of bodies they are allowed to feast upon. If anything, this is his fault.

“Get up!” he shouts, and they scramble to their feet.

You rise up on your knees as he turns and yanks open the bedroom door. “Feyd, wait, you don’t have to–”

“Stay!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you.

Your mouth snaps shut and you sit, watching as his harpies obediently follow him out the door. Within the minute, you hear the screams and squeals of pain, and you wince, pressing your hands over your ears.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position. It’s Feyd’s touch that jolts you back into the present.

You look up.

Red is speckled across his torso. You feel a slickness on your face from where he is cupping your cheek, and when he pulls his hand away, you notice the rivers of blood running through the spaces between his fingers.

Without a word, Feyd pushes you down onto the bed, rearranges the covers so they drape appropriately across your body, and crawls under the sheets to settle in beside you.

“What did you do to them?” you ask.

His eyes are already closed by the time the question fully leaves your lips. He blows out a heavy breath through his nose and turns on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. “Removed a few fingers,” he says. “Now go back to sleep.”

“But–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” he grumbles in demand. “Unless you’d rather I change my mind and toss you into their feeding pit…”

It's one of those empty threats, but you don’t press him further. Not for tonight. Tonight he is tired and grumpy and nothing about you pushing him will do you any good. So instead, you allow him to do as he wants. And what he wants is to tuck your head under his chin, eliminate all space between you, and hold you in a grip that is just short of suffocating.

* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Previous Chapter - Burning Palms Current Chapter - Only I Will Remain

***

You return to your chambers alone, still shaken from the earlier confrontation. Hours pass, and the silence is heavy with your thoughts. Finally, the door swings open, and Feyd enters, his face a mask of frustration. The remaining meetings had been incredibly boring and annoying, leaving him seething with pent-up energy.

Without a word, he crosses the room in a few swift strides and takes you in his arms with more force than needed. His grip is tight, almost bruising, and he doesn't wait for anything. He starts to kiss you angrily, his lips harsh and demanding. You squirm under his touch, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you, but this only seems to edge him on.

Feyd's hands roam your body with an urgency that borders on aggression. His kisses are rough, bruising, as he pours all his frustration into this moment. Your protests are muffled against his lips, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Feyd, please," you manage to gasp between his feverish kisses, but he doesn’t slow down.

His response is a growl of frustration, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself. You can feel the intensity of his emotions—anger, desire, a desperate need for release. It’s overwhelming, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves you breathless.

You push against his chest, trying to create some space, but he only pulls you closer, his eyes dark and wild.

"I need this," he mutters, his voice a strained whisper. "I need you."

Your heart aches at his vulnerability, buried beneath layers of anger and frustration. Despite the roughness, you can sense the depth of his need, the unspoken plea for understanding. Slowly, you relax into his embrace, your hands moving to his back, offering silent reassurance.

Feyd’s grip softens just a fraction, his kisses becoming less punishing and more desperate. You can feel his heart beating wildly against yours, his breath hot against your skin. This moment is raw and intense, a collision of emotions that leaves you both shaken.

As he pushes you towards the bed and take out his dagger, making you squirm even more than before. As he cuts your dress off, he plants possessive kisses on the exposed skin, working his way down, cutting everything off your body and leaving you naked in front of him. He’s on his knees in front of you.

“Sit.” He demands darkly, his eyes darting to the bed. “What about you?” you ask in defiance.

He didn’t waste any time allowing you to talk back at him. He stands back up and forcefully pushes you back, one of his hands on your mouth. He wants you to be completely submissive right now, so you oblige just this one time. As you fall backwards on the bed, he’s on you like a wolf, hungry for blood. His dagger at your side, sharp and dangerous.

“You will learn not to doubt me, even if that’s all I can teach you.”

He spits out at you, referencing the doubt he saw in your eyes before.

You had to admit while he was scaring you a little, you reminded yourself that his feelings were mostly right at the surface. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have already done that months ago.

He returns his anger towards your body instead, cutting you with his dagger and licking it up like a mad dog. The lower he goes the more he starts cutting, until his head is between your legs, lapping at your entrance like a dog starved for water. Your blood is in splotches over his face, painting his pale face a brighter colour.

He’s slowly driving you insane, the fear turning into pleasure as he continues his assault. You keep quiet like he demanded, his submissive little wife, as he gets up from between your legs, eyes darker than the black sun. As he releases his hardened cock from his pants, he doesn’t need to do more than just look at you, taking the hint immediately. As you move towards the edge of the bed, he forcefully grips your hair in his hand and positions you perfectly in front of his cock. The dagger in his other hand grazing your cheek as you take him in your mouth, throbbing with need.

He lets out a loud sigh of pleasure, his hand tight in your hair, holding you down a little bit longer than you can handle, making you choke. As he pulls you back, he looks down at you, his face contorted in a snarl. His anger still very at the surface as he starts to pump into your mouth, making you sound completely indecent. You hold his legs in a way to keep yourself from falling off the bed and grounding yourself, as he relentlessly fucks your mouth.

“Sometimes you talk too much, wife,” he snaps at you, “I should do this to you more often. Maybe you’ll finally learn then.”

His dagger pressing into your cheek, drawing blood as he keeps his pace steady and fast. You’re barely able to understand what he’s saying at this point, feeling like a fuck-doll at this point. You decide you have enough of this and manage to push his legs away from your face, making him stumble backwards a bit as you manage to take a few gasps of breath.

You look at him angrily, wiping your own blood off your cheek. His jaw clenches at your movements and how you position yourself back on the bed. He steps forward and grabs one of your legs, pulling you towards him as you struggle to find your footing again. He’s enjoying this, watching you flail in his strong grasp.

“Stay still woman!” He demands of you with his dagger at your neck.

You freeze, not that you think he would actually kill you, but you also don’t want to be made into an example of accidental death. You huff out at him, brows frowned at him. As his free hand goes down to open your legs with haste, you manage to turn around, your back facing him but he’s straddling your hips sooner than you thought.

His thick member slapping on your ass as he pushes himself onto you, making you lay flat against the bed, effectively squishing you. You feel the same dagger at your other cheek, almost sticking into it, probably drawing blood as you don’t really notice the pain anymore.

“You’re so pretty when you struggle wife,” he snarls as he slaps his cock a few times on your ass, the movement giving you an unwanted wetness between your legs.

He’s heavy and dominating, this is the Feyd people warned you about, you’re finally seeing the true Harkonnen in him. As you struggle to breath, you feel one of his fingers circling your ass, wet with the slick from his cock. As he pushes his thumb inside, you let out a short gasp, the feeling completely foreign to you. You notice he won’t give you the time to get used to the feeling, as he’s lining up his cock with your other entrance as you try to figure out the difference between pain and pleasure.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”, he speaks as he lets his tip enter you. “One hundred and fifty-two days exactly”, he chokes out as he wastes no time penetrating you fully.

It’s all too fast and hard for you to handle, as you let out a pained moan under his weight. You’re barely able to breathe properly at this point, so your breath comes out in short gasps, trying not to faint at the feeling. Feyd is fully sheathed inside of you, and he feels bigger than before, harder than you’re used to. He has been keeping count apparently, but so have you.

“One hundred and fifty-three”, you blurt out.

He freezes for a moment and starts to pump into you relentlessly, eliciting the foulest sounds from your mouth. While he keeps his dagger at your face, he lifts his body from your and you’re finally able to take in more air. You manage to raise your butt a slightly bit higher, so that you can move along with him, his thumb in your ass keeping you in place as he pounds you hard and fast.

He can feel your wetness and it’s driving him even crazier than he thought. As much as he loves it when you’re being dominant, he loves seeing you even more when you’re submissive, offering all control to him, allowing him to decide your boundaries. He’s been waiting for five months to have you in his arms again, in his bed again.

You had also been dreaming about this moment, although, maybe slightly less violent, you welcome it, however. Feeling his utter need for you takes away all doubt, the fact that he’s being so open towards you makes you feel wanted. Maybe if you can allow some violence into the bedroom, he won’t be so violent in everyday life.

Feyd strikes your ass hard, making you snap out of thought. His dagger lay in the bed now, his free hand gripping your ass as he picks up his pace, even inhumanly fast as it feels. You almost scream out at this point, everything an overstimulation of the next, and as you cum on his cock he turns you around and forces his hand inside of your vagina, letting you ride the wave as he pulses against your g-spot, effectively making you squirt multiple times.

His face is soaking wet, as he laps up most of the fluid from the source. Taking his dagger again he places it in your hand.

“Cut me,” he says as he starts to line up his cock again as you lay flat on your back.

As soon as he enters you, he hovers over you, holding you down, his cock feeling heavy and full inside of you, his girth stretching you open as your back aches from the bed. He snakes an arm under your back to hold you there, sucking at your nipples. As you take the dagger and cut him on the side of his neck, he shivers with pleasure.

The blood drops down onto your chest and he looks at you, pleased. His pace starts to become more erratic the more you cut. Four, five, up until ten times you do this on different spots on his body, all while he’s fucking you senseless. Your body the canvas of his blood and sweat. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, how he was even allowed to touch you, he couldn’t understand.

“Feyd,” you gasp out as you’re feeling another wave rush through you, “faster.”

As you both continue, his anger fades, replaced by an overwhelming sense of urgency. He clings to you as if you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded. And in that moment, despite the fear and uncertainty, you hold him close, offering what little comfort you can.

You come with a lightning strike shooting between your eyes it seems, completely overwhelmed. As he bites down in your shoulder you feel his seed filling you entirely, as he pumps the last of his energy into you. He turns his face to face yours, and he slowly continues to move in and out of you, making sure to keep most of it in. You kiss him softly, a tear slowly falling down your cheek. He kisses you back softly, his anger completely gone, as he positions himself next to you.

Your chest blood red and glimmering in the dim light of the room, he looked you up and down, almost waiting for you to say something first. He wasn’t easily ashamed but somehow, he felt a little bit more aware of what he had done just now. He hoped you would still love him after the display he just left you with.

“Blood of my blood,” you say as you cup his face.

His eyes close slowly at your touch, no one would ever take this away from him again. And the both of you fall asleep in a newfound bliss with each other.

Forbidden Bonds

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

SUMMARY : Y/n is Princess Irulan sister and she falls in love with Feyd Rautha

Dune Masterlist

In the opulent halls of the Imperial Palace on Kaitain, Princess Y/N, sister to Princess Irulan, found herself drawn to a figure that stood at the center of intrigue and danger—Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic heir of House Harkonnen.

As the daughter of the Emperor, Y/N was accustomed to a life of privilege and duty, her every move dictated by the expectations of her royal lineage. But in the shadows of the palace corridors, she found herself yearning for something more—a taste of freedom, a glimpse of passion.

One fateful evening, as she attended a lavish gala in honor of her sister's betrothal to another nobleman, Y/N's eyes met Feyd-Rautha's across the crowded ballroom. There was an intensity in his gaze, a magnetism that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Approaching him with cautious steps, Y/N found herself ensnared by the allure of his presence. "Feyd-Rautha," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "you are a mystery I am eager to unravel."

Feyd-Rautha, with his customary confidence, offered her a charming smile. "And you, Princess Y/N, are a vision of beauty that has captured my heart."

In the midst of the swirling dancers and whispered conversations, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found themselves drawn into a dance unlike any other. Their movements were fluid, their gazes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes of the forbidden attraction that simmered between them.

As the music swelled and the world faded away, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found themselves lost in each other's arms—a fleeting moment of freedom amidst the constraints of their respective worlds.

But their stolen moment of passion was not to last. As whispers of their clandestine encounter spread through the palace, Y/N's father, the Emperor, grew increasingly suspicious of her affections.

Confronted by her father's disapproval, Y/N was torn between duty and desire, between the expectations of her station and the longing of her heart. But in Feyd-Rautha's arms, she found a sanctuary—a refuge from the pressures of her royal lineage.

"I cannot deny the pull I feel toward you, Feyd-Rautha," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "But our love is forbidden, a flame that threatens to consume us both."

Feyd-Rautha's gaze held a mixture of determination and longing. "I would defy the entire galaxy for you, Y/N. Our love may be forbidden, but it is also undeniable."

As the palace walls closed in around them, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha made a pact to defy the constraints of their worlds—to carve out a future where their love could flourish, unburdened by the expectations of others.

But as they stole one last embrace beneath the moonlit sky, they knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices. For in a world where power and politics reigned supreme, their love was a delicate flower, threatened by the looming shadows of betrayal and deceit.

Yet, as they parted ways, their hearts intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. For in each other's arms, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found a love that was worth fighting for—a love that would defy empires and endure for eternity.

Hiya :) thank you for taking the time to read anything I write. If you like something (and are comfortable with sharing) let me know. It always makes my day! - ❤️ Lauren

Main Masterlist

ao3: Laureolive (if you see my writing anywhere else, please let me know)

I am trying a tag list so you can join by filling out this form, or you turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing. Many of these fics are 18+. If you are a minor, please do not read them.

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing: Part 1, Part 2 - (Atreides!Reader) You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

What Comes at Night: You have nightmares of Feyd's death and he's there to comfort you. *can be read alone* Mark of Luck: You give Feyd your mark of luck before he enters the arena. *can be read alone* Overprotective: Your son is due to be born any day now and Feyd is very protective. He kills anyone who so much as lays a finger on you, but it’s gotten out of control. *can be read alone* The Harkonnen's Loves: Feyd gives his four-year old son his first blade. (Mostly sweet family stuff)

Respect: Your betrothed is a son from one of the Great Houses, an awful man who has enjoyed threatening and scaring you since you were children. Feyd makes it known he doesn't appreciate such disrespectful treatment of the woman he loves.

Do You Love?: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

He Will Hope: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending) *also serves as a very early prequel to Do You Love?*

His: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Friends in High Places

Author's Note: Hi. I cooked this up in 3.5 hours bc my brain won't shut off. Don't know if I'll make this a chapter thing yet.

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, war + death?, injury. This is a Paul x ofc but there are no physical descriptions as I wanted to keep it as ambiguous as possible. <3

Summary: Paul learns he isn't alone in the war against the Harkonnens and the Emperor's forces.

Paul,

House Atreides still has friends in the palace. Use these gifts as you see fit. Long live the fighters.

Yours,

Imogen

He immediately knows these ships and the weapons they brought are at great cost to you. You may be the emperor's daughter, but he has no doubt you would be punished swiftly for your treason, if you hadn't been already. The thought of you facing the consequences for helping him makes him feel ill. You're strong—much stronger than him and more adept at everything he isn't —but surely even you could be overcome.

He thinks you might be better suited to delivering the Fremen to peace instead of him, but you’re too far away, holed up on Kaitain with your family. You're a mole in the emperor's house, one he can count on but not one he can take advantage of.

He will need to be patient. You will stand behind him when the time comes, but for now, he must wait. Keeping you safe seems a small price to pay, but the Fremen are strong, too. They can handle the costs.

He rereads the letter, committing it to memory before he destroys it. There is nothing to indicate you will be sending more of these deadly gifts, and so he supposes they will have to treat these with care.

***

You too see with more than just your eyes, and you can feel Paul's gratitude across millions of miles during your breakfast with your father and sisters. The warmth of his gratitude washes over your tongue like cream, and you take a sip of ice water to keep yourself from outright grinning and giving yourself away as you listen to Irulan debate with your father the emperor. The ships Paul received were taken off the records, their trackers destroyed, and there are several dozens soldiers and weapons mysteriously missing from the armory and barracks.

All of them loyal to you, all of them fighting for a better life. They believe in Paul's cause, and volunteered to help when you went looking for people you could trust. If they had families, they were relocated in secrecy on Arrakis, close by to their warrior loved ones.

No loose ends this way.

A few of your most trusted guards stayed, their allegiance to you unwavering. They spoke of you taking the throne in Irulan's place, but you didn't want it. The people had known your bloodline for too long. It was time for a new leader and a new beginning. When the time came, you would stand by your friend and voice your support. The great Houses would follow.

They always did.

***

You are beaten in front of the throne when your crimes are discovered. You laugh in the face of your father's personal guard, blood dripping from your broken nose and staining the granite a vibrant red. You're still wearing your clothes in the men's style and you find yourself glad for it when you imagine how much of a nightmare it would be to be caught in blood-sticky chiffon and flowing layers of silk.

"Our house is bathed in the blood of innocents, we are traitors ourselves," You cough loudly as you refer to the betrayal of Leto Atreides, eyes passing over the aristocracy that fills the great hall. "And now we shall pay for it."

You take your small knife from its sheath at your waist, pointing it threateningly towards your own abdomen instead of at your circling adversary. Some people gasp at your boldness; a stomach wound is a death sentence.

"Imogen," Your little sister of four and ten sobs, clutching at Irulan's arm that is braced around her protectively. "Father didn't mean it, please! Just drop it!"

The emperor looks on from his place on the steps leading up to the throne. His eyes are tortured, but you know him—he's playing a part. He'll send you away to exile and then play the grieving father when you are unexpectedly assassinated by someone loyal to the crown.

You'd rather fall into the terrifying maw of the Shai-Halud.

"Drop the knife, Imogen." He says. "No one will harm you further, just drop the knife."

You feel warm blood trickle down the side of your face; you might have a concussion from hitting your head on the granite when you were knocked down. You can also feel pain blooming in your ribs and back from where you were kicked. You don't have much time to waste.

"Clear a path," You spit, feet moving backward. You stretch your mind out to make sure no one is planning on attacking you from behind. "There's nothing left for me to do here. Men, with me!"

Your guards, having been warned to stand by until you gave the order if something like this were to happen, move past your father's soldiers, eyes ablaze with contempt. They form a protective circle around you and one of them, your friend Joel, places his arm around your waist to help your limping form along. A ship with two more men await you, and there are some that stay behind to make sure no one follows you. You lean against Joel and bury your bleeding face in your hands as you leave your friends on the ground, the ship flying high and stirring up dust.

They'll be executed if not tortured for information by morning. You hope they die like warriors instead. It weighs so heavily on you that you barely register someone trying their best to clean your face. Wet cloth comes away pink and drips on the floor.

"Their sacrifice is honorable," Joel says later. "Weep for them, but do not despair. Their deaths are not in vain."

You keep his words at the forefront of your mind as your ornithopter docks with a bigger ship, one that will take you to Arrakis. You fall asleep, exhausted as you wait to arrive on your new home.

***

You are carried off, still unconscious as a doctor looks you over and does what he can. Your nose is set and cuts attended to, and your old clothes burned. Paul sits by your sleeping form, protective of you. You’re vulnerable here, naked body covered in an airy muslin tunic and sheet for modesty's sake. He can see purple blooming underneath the thin material and wishes he could have stopped it.

But the Fremen saw it too—your devotion to their cause. Paul is frequently surprised at their willingness to please him, their Lisan al Gaib. Your well-being has been seen to as staunchly as his own would have been had he asked it of them.

You groan when you finally wake, drawing him to your side. You wince when you try to move over as he sits down on the edge of your bed.

"You've been resting awhile," His voice is a balm over you; you didn't realize how much you missed it until now. "Haven't moved much, either. I'm sure you're sore."

"In more ways than one," You rasp quietly. "The Sardaukar's reputation certainly precedes them."

He brings a handmade cup to your lips and helps you lift your head to drink. The water is cool and soothes your throat in an instant.

"You're lucky you got out."

"Maybe," You lick at a stray droplet at the corner of your mouth, his eyes following the movement. "Or maybe I'm just that good."

The corners of his mouth turn up as he sets the cup back in its spot of a small table next to your bed.

"Maybe." He parrots, looking over your still healing face. Your cuts had closed up and were more of a startling pink instead of an angry red, and your bruises were harder to see under the fabric.

"Can I check something?" He asks, fingers playing with the hem of your tunic. Your eyes blink as you manage a shrug.

"I'm not in much of a position to argue."

He purses his lips. "I won't do it if you'd rather not."

You contemplate that for a moment, grateful he'd even thought to ask your permission. "It's alright."

He fixes you with a look before lifting the muslin up to the underside of your breast, eyes scanning. He gently brushes along the path of the yellow-green marks with the pads of his fingers, making you flinch a bit.

"Sorry," He murmurs, dark curls falling into his face. You fight the urge to tuck them behind his ears. "The healer said to keep an eye on this spot, it's where one of your ribs was cracked."

You feel your face heat up as he pulls the fabric back down, berating yourself for wanting him to continue his gentle touching and pampering. He must have better things to do than look after you.

"Thank you, Paul," You find yourself saying, fingers reaching out for his hand on the bed. "For—looking after me. I didn't mean to put you in this position."

He smiles softly and covers your hand with his other, thumbs stroking over your knuckles affectionately. Even after all this time apart, he was sweet with you. "I don't mind."

"Mm," You sigh, eyes beginning to droop again. "Promise?"

"Promise." He affirms. "Go back to sleep, warrior-princess. I'll be right here."

You murmur something intelligible, probably an old insult, as you succumb to slumber once more. He stays with you as long as he can with his hands stroking your hair before he is called away. He asks that he be notified when you're awake again and ready to eat, but he suspects he'll be back long before then.

Hellooooo!

Absolutely obsessed with your blog and writing!! *chef’s kiss*

I was wondering if you could write something where the reader/OFC is the concubine of Paul Atredies and is tasked with giving him an heir which Paul is happy about. The reader/OFC is scared, so Paul being a dominant helps her through her first time and finds out she has a kink.

Okay so I have tweaked this a bit, I hope that’s okay. And I’m sorry this took so long

The Heart of a Bene Gesserit- Part One//Paul Atreides

Reverend Mother Helen Gohiam had tasked you with bearing the heir of House Atreides. You knew that it was not to prolong the Atreides line, per se. It was well known that the Bene Gesserit had deemed the Atreides as “too defiant” and “dangerous,” which was why the Reverend Mother counseled Emperor Shaddam IV to extinguish the Atreides when they settled onto Arrakis.

But it had come to light that Paul Atreides, the Duke Leto’s son, along with the boy's mother Lady Jessica, were still alive. Paul had spent months and months in the desert, fighting alongside the Fremen in the war against the Harkonnens, eventually becoming a leader among the Fremen, known as Muad’Dib.

In the end of his plot for vengence, Paul confronted the Emperor Shaddam IV, where the old man admitted to killing his father. The Great Houses were subsequently informed about the Emperor's part in the fall of House Atreides and the Corrino family lost the throne forever. Paul Muad’Dib Atreides became the new Emperor of the Known Universe.

The Reverend Mother Mohiam was a witness to all of it, and she knew without any doubt that Paul was the long-awaited Kwizatz Haderach. The male Bene Gesserit bred to bridge space and time had been born a generation early.

Paul had taken the Water of Life. A ritual tasked only to Reverend Mothers; the Water of Life was lethal to men. Paul not only survived, but he had seen the past, and in turn his possible futures. He had the ultimate power, the likes of which the world had never seen before.

Thousands of years had been dedicated to bringing forth The One, you knew this just as well as anyone. You were Bene Gesserit. The sisterhood was intent on saving the bloodline of the Kwizatz Haderach. And it was through you that they wanted to see it thus. You were to seduce Paul.

Luckily, you had known Paul since you were children. You were born on Caladan, and your parents worked for the Atreides. Your father was a soldier under Duke Leto and your mother a housekeeper that worked directly with Lady Jessica.

You spent a lot of time in the Caladan castle growing up, and you could remember seeing and talking to young Paul back then. You weren’t allowed to play together as typical children, but you did discuss books, history, and languages. Paul would even show you how he had been trained to fight by Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho, as well as his Bene Gesserit mother.

Paul would teach you what he had learned, and this was as close to play as you would get. You were taken away for your own training when you were still young. You were incredibly sad to leave your family and Paul. It was difficult to leave your only friend. You wondered if it was an equal struggle for Paul, the lonely son of a Duke.

Even as a child, you always thought Paul was handsome, kind, and thoughtful, but those days were long ago. He was now the emperor with the weight of the universe on his shoulders. He had no time to grieve his father when he was killed. He and his mother had been dumped in the desert to die. To survive, he had fought in a war against the sadistic Harkonnens.

On top of it all, he had essentially lost his mother, she was no longer the woman who had raised him, she was a Revend Mother herself who thought only of the Lisan Al Gaib prophecy. She didn't see him as her son, Paul, not anymore. This was a hardened man you would be dealing with, not a precocious young son of royalty.

..........

When you arrived on Arrakis, you knew that Paul would be privy to Bene Gesserit tricks, so you would not be effective if you used your training to seduce him. Not that you even wanted to. You really cared for Paul. Though you hadn't seen each other in years, the love you had for him had not gone away. You would use your own heart to win him over.

Word had been sent to Paul about your arrival. He had been notified before you had left for Arrakis. He did not respond to the message, but he did not deny your trip either. As Emperor he had the power to control space travel. Perhaps he was looking forward to seeing you again, but he knew that you were Bene Gesserit, and he wouldn't trust you completely because of that.

You were able to blend in and stay out of the way on your first day in the Arakeen home of the Atreides. As the sun went down, you wanted to find Paul.

One of the servants led you to the Emperor's private wing. You saw him, looking just the same as your last image of him, but taller and stronger, more grown up. His raven curls and boyish good looks were everlasting. "Your Majesty." you greeted him, bowing.

He turned, looked at you, and his face softened some, "Y/n, I've seen you in my dreams. I knew you'd come. It's great to see you, my dear old friend." he walked over to you, and his smile grew. "My, you have grown into an absolute beauty."

You were delighted when he put his arms around you in a hug, giving you a snug embrace. “You have grown too, you look strong, Paul Atreides.” you hugged him back, “I cannot believe my childhood friend is now the Emperor.”

Paul nodded, looking down, “Yes, well,” he looked back up at you, “it was the only way to avenge my father.”

“I am so sorry. What they did to your family was beyond cruel and dishonorable. Such a tragedy for you and your mother, Paul.”

“I know that your Bene Gesserit were also behind it.” he said this bluntly.

His sentence cut like a knife. Was he going to blame you? You said nothing.

“Though I know you personally had nothing to do with the massacre of my family, I simply cannot trust Bene Gesserit tricks, which I know you possess, y/n.”

“I do not intend to use any of my training on you. You are my friend, and I want to treat you as such, Paul.”

He smiled softly, “I know that you speak true. I admire you for that.” he stepped toward you, took your hand, “Everyone around me calls me, “my Lord,” or “Lisan Al Gaib. All this power I possess does not allow me to have real friends. So, I look forward to your staying here, to have someone treat me only as Paul.”

The sweet look in his eyes and the way his lips curled made you almost shiver. But you couldn’t do that in front of him. Not yet could you show weakness.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @bitchyunknownuser @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @briefkittenearthquake @jindongdongie

Does anyone know some great blogs or posts on how to create fanfic master lists, how to do tag lists, and overall everything needed to know about posting Fanfiction, especially a series. I’ve googled it and there’s so much information at once, I would really appreciated some blog recommendations that are organized, so I can start posting my dune fic!

I am so excited for the first part! It’s mostly done and baby Paul and Feyd have all the feels and angst!!

Paul x wife!reader!!! Was so so good!! I am so happy to hear that you are going to write more for them.

If you are taking thoughts for them, I would love to see when they met? Or their wedding day? If that sounds interesting 🫶🏼

🍉 Blurb requests; a character + any prompt you want.

Author's Note: I'm so glad you're enjoying these! In this one I've sort of implied that Paul and reader met once before, a year before he proposes. He had dreams of her long before their meeting and despite knowing each other from a distance, that's all the confirmation he needs. Reader is well-versed in politics and warfare, much like Paul, and while he's taken with her from the start he also sees the benefits of marrying someone who seems his equal.

Warnings: no real warnings apply, just fluff. R and P get to know each other a little better. <3

"You need to reserve your hand for the most strategic alliance," His mother had said, exasperated in the spearing of her dinner with a fork. "You know that."

"He's already decided." Leto eats slowly, eyes downcast but amused when he briefly glances up at Paul.

"What?"

Paul sighs through his nose. "I've already proposed to her, it's done."

Jessica looks aghast as she sets down her cutlery. "Tell me you didn't."

"I did." He watches as his mother looks at his father and then back at him, slack-jawed as she tries to process the magnitude of what her only son has set in motion.

"Jessica," Leto reaches for her hand. "We should be supporting our son; he's getting married."

She clenches her jaw and slips his grip as she stands, shaking her head. "You knew?"

"No, actually," Leto glares half-heartedly, making Paul duck his head. "He left me in the dark as much as he did you."

"But you suspected?"

He sighs. "Jessica."

She huffs, having her answer as she turns to leave the dining hall. Leto raises his brows at his son apologetically, folding his dinner napkin to set on the table. He stands, planning to play the part of soothing husband he isn't by title.

"I don't want to regret it," Paul says quietly, making him pause. "Not marrying her. I've thought about it for a long time."

Leto nods, pride filling him that Paul is observant enough to see the burdens of his house and family name, and doesn't want to repeat his father's mistakes.

"Your mother will come around," He smooths his beard. "Just give her time."

His mother, thankfully, keeps her internal struggle to herself from then on, not seeing the point in arguing with him when he'd clearly made up his mind. It was one thing for Paul to have inherited his father's stubbornness, but to also have inherited Jessica's tenacity was nothing short of fate. She wasn't sure if it was some cruel joke or not—the boy she bore turning out exactly as she had imagined but continued to surprise her nonetheless.

"Remember," She says as she adjusts the placement of his aiguillette on his ceremonial uniform. "She'll be skittish, despite what she might tell you. You'll need to be calm."

"You talk like she's an animal being led to slaughter." Paul buttons his collar snug against his throat.

His mother purses her lips as she looks him over one last time. "Every woman entering a political marriage is an animal being led to slaughter. And despite her acceptance of your proposal, that is what she will feel like."

She sighs and cups his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin. "I know you like her. So channel that when you're married, yes? Be careful with her."

He smiles ruefully against her hand. "I know what to do."

You're allowed a semi-private walk with Paul through the grounds as both sets of parents mingle, most likely discussing the wedding and possible dowry, though you had made it clear your parents were to decline should one be offered. The concept of accepting a bride price seemed woefully outdated, and if the rumors were true that the House Atreides would be assuming command of Arrakis and the subsequent spice trade soon, you would become one wealthy bride indeed.

"You think you know what to do. Those are two very different things." She adjusts the Atreides eagle pins on his collar, sharing in his amusement. "Come, let's greet your bride."

"How was the trip?"

Paul, having never been on a Heighliner, asks this with genuine interest.

"It was fine. Secretive." You confess, hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. "I really wanted to see a Guild member, but Mama kept me busy."

You blink, pursing your lips. "Sorry. Mother, I meant."

Paul smiles comfortingly. "You can say whatever you like; we're to be married, aren't we? Who can we trust if not each other?"

Your heart thuds—not uncomfortably—at his words. He seems more mature since you'd last seen him a half-year ago, but still soft-spoken and reserved. You take note the level of care and observation he treats you with as he leads you to the gardens, holding your hand at breast level when you pick your skirts up with your other, walking down stone steps flanked by vines and emerald leaves the size of your torso. His eyes watch your feet to ensure you don't trip, returning your hand to his elbow when your feet are back on the ground.

"Can I truly?" You murmur as he leads you to a padded bench. "Trust you, I mean?"

His expression is earnest. "Of course. Always."

You hum, a tight smile on your face. "I appreciate your proposal more than you know. But the fact remains—we barely know each other. So why did you pick me?"

His eyes duck away bashfully. "I don't suppose you'll believe me if I say it's because I thought you beautiful."

"Not when I've seen you value the intelligence of others." Your smile eases. "Though I'd be flattered if it were true."

"It is true," He looks back at you. "You are beautiful. But you're right. It isn't the only reason."

He sighs evenly as he looks around the gardens. His mother had advised him to tread carefully when it came to his dreams, even suggested he keep them a secret. But how could he keep them a secret from you, when you were often the subject of them?

No, he would trust his instincts when it came to this. There was no other option for him when his gut was tugging in only one direction and sealing his decision.

"For a long time," He says carefully. "I've had dreams—not the kind of dreams that you forget as soon as the day wears on, but the kind that feels real and leaves a-a feeling within me, long after I wake up."

You listen with interest, finding his occasional stammering and pauses endearing. This is clearly something he thinks about often, and why shouldn't he when the dreams happen presumably every night?

"You're there," He murmurs, meeting your steadily widening eyes. "Sometimes you're behind me, like I'm protecting you. Other times you're beside me. Still others, you're reaching your hand out and I'm leading you up a million and one steps."

"I don't fully understand what they mean yet." He continues. "But I know you're always there."

You swallow a lump in your throat. Dreams could be a window into the past, as well as the future.

"What if your dreams are just dreams?" You ask somewhat timidly, not wanting to offend him. "Could you live with that? Being wrong?"

He smiles, eyes soft as he senses your trepidation. It's a big decision, one he knows he can't rush you on.

"I don't think the dreams are inherently right or wrong, I think they just...are."

He lifts his knuckles to graze your cheek, gentle as he takes such a liberty. You seem not to mind, lashes dusting your cheeks in a shy display of modesty.

"Not only are you beautiful, you're kind and intelligent. I know about the Vector Accords."

Your lips part in shock. "How could you possibly...?"

He chuckles, hand dropping back into his own lap. "I see glimpses of other things. I saw you speaking in an enormous auditorium. After I woke, we received word that morning that someone—"

He raises his eyebrows in pointed amusement. "—had negotiated peace between two great peoples on one of the outer worlds. A peace the Emperor himself hadn't been concerned with."

"So yes," He says softly but firmly. "I'd say I could live with having a woman such as you as my duchess."

Your laugh is breathless as you shake your head, thoroughly marveled and more than a little prideful that he had recognized your qualities for the value they had.

Details of the truce were not yet known, even to Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV. Paul couldn't have possibly known such a thing unless he had been present himself, and it would have been impossible for him to travel there and back preceding your arrival to Caladan.

"Were you nervous?" He asks suddenly, the innocence of the question striking you.

"My palms were soaked." You snort. "Who'd have thought, hm? Me, a mediator."

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. You're so much more than that."

It's odd, hearing such a thing from another young person and not one of your parents or mentors. You'd experienced the courting phase of youth, but never had a young man encouraged in such a way as to make you feel like what you were striving for—peace—was worth it.

You didn't need or want the validation from anyone, but it felt nice to hear it all the same.

"I, um," You blink, looking down at your filigree wristwatch to see it was nearly time for dinner. "I need to think about what you've said, if that's alright?"

"Of course." He appreciates the fact that you're not rushing into his arms, despite your gracious acceptance of his proposal. "Allow me to walk you to your room?"

Your smile is genuine and wide; you expected nothing less.

"Please."

Your wedding is grand, if a bit quiet. Neither you nor Paul see fit to complain. The Emperor sends his regrets of not being able to attend in response to your invitation.

A snub, after a projection of your speech was mass publicized. People were whispering that a little girl was better suited to bringing peace to a war-ravaged planet than a man of seventy-two, and that, you surmised, must be quite embarrassing.

He's quite handsome on your wedding day, your husband. Sitting through the festivities seems a waste when all you really want is for him to hold you. You desire him, most definitely, but you desire his softer attentions more.

If the twinkle in his green eyes and the way he seems to be in no rush to bring you to the separate wing of the castle are anything to go by, then he feels the same.

It's tradition for the groom to carry his bride from the wedding table to the marriage bed, and so he does, but the crowd is respectful as Paul assured you, and they toast you both and cheer loudly as he lifts you in his arms, walking into the castle a married man. The Duke Leto and the Lady Jessica beam as they watch you wave and tuck your head on Paul's shoulder.

"You don't have to carry me the whole way," You giggle, arms wrapped safely around his neck. "It's a bit far."

"It's not that far." He parries with amusement.

But he's not Duncan Idaho—doesn't possess his hulking form—and maybe it is farther than he originally thought, but he refuses to put you down until you hurriedly push open the doors to your new quarters and he deposits you on the bed, rolling over beside you as he catches his breath and let's his shaky arms drop.

"I told you."

He adores the laugh you let out at being correct, and thinks it might be alright to let you have every silly argument or discussion if you'll only laugh like that again.

"It's bad luck if I let you down before," He explains, lips curling. "I want it to last."

You lean on an elbow, your dress a haze of chiffon that will undoubtedly be wrinkled tomorrow.

"Our marriage?"

He nods and you purse your lips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

"It will last if we want it to." You say softly. "And even moreso now that you've carried your wife to bed."

You kiss him sweetly and he loves you for it, loves the way you acknowledge a Caladan tradition, even if you don't necessarily believe in the superstition of "let your wife down, let your marriage drown."

It's silly but it's woven into the tapestries of his ancestors lives—now his and yours—and he couldn't be happier.

Dune Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

I love the possible sisterhood!! Two scorned woman!

May Thy Knife

Summary: When Paul challenges the emperor, Feyd is chosen to fight your brother. Your brother couldn't hurt the man you love, right?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Word count: 1,113

TW:  Violence, Murder, pregnancy and family drama  (let me know if i missed any) 

AN: I got this idea while I was doing my dishes and just had to write it down Also a huge Thank you to @angel-0f-verdun for helping!

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

You hear a familiar voice and start to walk to the front of the crowd with your husband hot on your trail. Once you come to a stop he puts his hand protectively around your belly. The hooded figure starts to talk when you interrupt him “Paul”. You thought he had died along with your father and stepmother. “Paul,” you say again trying to walk forward when Feyd stops you. 

Paul retracts his hand.“I see you have chosen a side” says Paul glaring at Fey and continuing his conversation with the emperor. Though you couldn’t stay still, eyes continually glancing around the room, you lay eyes on Jessica and the only other person bold enough to make eye contact. As Paul challenges the emperor for his daughter's hand marriage and the rule of the galaxy, you get a good look at him. This is not the same Paul you grew up with, no, that Paul had died. The emperor agrees to his challenge and chooses Feyd as his fighter. 

— 

“Paul if you love me you won’t kill my husband. Please be better than his uncle and the emperor, I’m begging you. As your sister, I beg you please.” You say as you step forward tears streaming down your face. You do your best to maintain your composure as Paul walks to you and Feyd. “May thy knife chip and shatter '' Paul says backing up to assume a fighting stance. 

You feel your heart sink as Feyd turns to you and kisses your lips so sweetly and tenderly almost begging for your forgiveness. “I love you” he whispers. You grab him and beg him not to. He shrugs off your advances as he steps forward. “May thy knife chip and shatter” he says while assuming a fighting stance.

“Will someone please stop this madness!” you scream, begging anyone to stop them. You start to walk towards the fight when Gurney stops you. “Please, that is my husband” you  beg him. He looks at you with sorrow, looking around the room you try to find something to stop this. You scream as Paul almost lands a blow, when Feyd retaliates faster knocking Paul on the ground. He points out the other women besides Lady Jessica who actively wince whenever Paul starts losing ground in the fight, Paul's pet. As they start fighting you start walking towards her, hiking up your skirt you pull out one of Feyds knives and grab her by the side. Whispering an apology you place the blade in a weak spot in her armor on her side. You know that she could easily get away from you but she doesn't try, maybe to grief stricken by Paul throwing her to the side for his own power and ambitions or maybe she thinks you’re faster then her. It doesn't matter as long as this catches Paul's attention. 

“Paul if you don’t stop I will kill her” you scream out still pointing the knife. Her eyes pleaded with Paul to stop fighting. “I love him, Paul, he is the father of my child and my husband. I thought better of you then to become a killer” you say looking directly into his eyes as Feyd stands behind him at the ready. Not wanting to hurt Paul unless he hurts you or his child. He could care less about himself, for the first time in his life he is content. He should have known that the universe would come and take it from him, he has done too much evil to ever be happy. Just as soon as you caught Paul's attention you lost it. He was back to dueling with Feyd, as the fight continued both men were covered in blood, both of their own and of each other. They both seemed to be growing tired but that's when Feyd got the upper hand and stabbed Paul in a non-emergent spot, but just as soon as he had done that Paul had stabbed him in the abdomen, a way harsher blow. As they fell to the floor the only thing that could be heard was your screams of horror. Dropping the knife you held, you ran over to the pair, Paul was pulling the knife out of his shoulder standing up and walking toward the emperor. Pulling Feyd to your lap you assessed his injury. 

“It's okay my love, let me go,” he said, wiping the tears off your face. “I've lived a good life with you, I learned what it was like to be loved and it is marvelous,” he says, coughing up more blood. At this point, you are sobbing cradling him back and forth. You don't even register the cheers of victory all around the room. Suddenly, a hand is placed on your shoulder, looking up to scream at whoever was touching you, you see that it is the woman you threatened to stab. She pulls you away from Feyd as men swarm him, doing god knows what. All you can think about is how the man you love is dead. The only thing that brings you out of that grief is the consistent kicking in your belly. The woman introduced herself as Chani as you walked through the halls of the sand dune structure. She shows you to a room and begins to clean you up. 

“You have to stop crying,” she says in a gentle voice. “You’re going to lose all of your water,” she says, grabbing her canteen and pouring you some water. As you greedily drink it you come to the harsh reality that you are now alone. 

“I don’t know how I'm going to do this alone”. You say while rubbing your belly, which was greeted by a strong kick.  

“What Paul did was awful, he has been corrupted by power. No thanks to your mother feeding him propaganda” Chani says. Looking at her you explain that Paul is your half-sibling through his father and that Lady Jessica killed your mother. “Ahh so being a traitor comes from her side,” she says pacing the room. “I can’t believe I ever loved him,” she says, throwing her glove at the door. 

“He hasn’t always been like that” you say, glancing at her. “His mother brings out the best and the worst in him, but our father raised him better than to be a murderous monster” you say holding back more tears. “My husband is dead, the love of my life is dead. Now I am to have his child by myself, I am all alone.” you say playing with your fingers. 

“You’re not alone” Chani says, waking to sit on the bed next to you.

I’ve got multiple parts for my a/b/o Paul x Female Reader x Feyd-Rautha story. I’m writing the entire outline, that way every post (chapter) coincides with the plot. I have decided to go with Y/N and nicknames thanks to your feedback.

I have one more question: What do I do with Chani? Does she exist? Does she and Paul have a relationship while you’re separated from Paul? Do they have a child (twins) like in the book. Is Chani perhaps a jealous scorned lover?

Any ideas would be lovely.

I need a little help for my Feyd x Reader x Paul story. I really want a name for reader rather then (your name). Yes or No? Ideas??

What about nicknames for reader? What are some nicknames Paul and Feyd should use?

I'm 100% following your paul x reader x feyd idea, I cannot even begin to explain how much I would gobble down that fic. The idea alone has me 👁️👁️

I'm normally a silent reader (working on bettering that habit), but I'm hoping people also support your idea loudly bc it sounds delicious and super fun to read!

Hoping you decide to write it!! Good luck 😊

Thank you so much!! I’m really having fun figuring out the plot and order of events and how certain parts of the books and film will come into play and what will change.

Thank you so much for the encouragement!

Working further on my idea and starting the first drafts. Reader will be the alternative to the golden path, I’ve decided.

I’m trying my best to read up on the books without trying to read several books before I right.

Paul x Reader x Feyd live rent free right now in my head.

Feyd is cruel to protect reader and Paul is unwilling to play any games. He wants his Omega soon as possible with no secrets.

I haven’t written/ posted Fanfiction in years. I’ve never done so on Tumblr and have no idea how to even post Fanfiction on tumblr. How do tags and master lists and the keep reading thing work?

But I have an idea. Oh Boy do I have an idea for a story; like three novel lengths of a story. With a female reader!

Alpha!Paul x Omega!Reader x Alpha Feyd!

Now I Haven’t read the books, but have researched details in them. Some of the aspects of the books are too weird strange like a half worm tyrant! And I would take a lot of creative liberties but here’s the gist:

There’s a cluster of planets outside of the Imperium with a Goverment and heirarchy of their own. They despise the Bene Gesserit as they have “gifts” of their own.

They are powerful with many resources, though are aware they have made an enemy of the emperor.

The Change is the prophecy they have for the Bene Gesserit’s Messiah. Two warring houses will unite the Imperium with these cluster of planets through a bond with a shared omega. An Omega the emperor and Bene Gesserit want dead. An omega the Fremen are wary of and Baron Harkonnen wants only for his house.

There’s baby Feyd and Paul and their childhoods as they grow up. A bloody Feyd who just killed his mother gets a quick hug from Omega!reader who tells him she’s always available to be a friend before scampering off and leaving him prettified!

Feyd sets up his Uncle and brother. He secretly divides his people into two opposing sides. One for an imperium lead by the Harkonnen Atreides Triad, and the other for his Uncles barbaric rule. Feyd is still barbaric in his own right but not to the point that it leads to his death. His Omega makes it clear he has to exhibit control of his instincts or he’s out.

Paul and Feyd have a love/hate relationship, trying to kill the other all while working together to take control of the Imperium. So much sexual tension that is released on the “poor” reader!

Super slow burn, way more strategical overtaking by Paul and Feyd. Reader is kind, soft but not self sacrificing. She has her own role to play in bringing togther her people with the imperium. And she sure as hell isn’t going to just bend over for Paul and Feyd.

Thoughts??