Don't Touch What’s His

* 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

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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.

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.

Ooo for the blurb can I please request a George Weasley x fem!muggle!reader where she is really shy, as opposed to the outgoing extroverts that the Weasley twins (and honestly most of the Weasley family) are. And he’s bringing her around to meet his family (she’s already met Fred and already knows about magic) and she’s a bit overstimulated but George is by her side, holding her close, soft kiss on the head, holding her hand and whispering sweet things in her ear to keep her calm🥹🧡

🥹omfg yessss that’s so cute 🥰 we love a sweet, sensitive Georgie. And opposites attract is a classic coupling🧡 I hope you like it!

We’re starting with a little insight to their background bc you know I love a meet cute 🥰

…also I tried not to but I got a little carried away…

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(Y/N) had always wondered about the family across the road. Privet drive was a quiet street, and it’s residents generally of mild temperament; but she had always thought the Dursleys to be rather odd. And why did they never speak of their nephew? Often when they were children, Dudley would ride his bike down the street with his friends, terrorising pigeons and playing knock and run, so she would invite Harry to sit in her front garden when he was about. He didn’t seem to have any friends, and he was rather quiet, which made for good company. She would lend him books and share her sweets, and he’d thank her like she’d given him something significant; he was the only friend she’d ever made in the boring, suburban neighbourhood.

It was quite a surprise when he suddenly disappeared to some kind of boarding school, which he told her very little about; especially since he’d spent the first summer back hidden away at home. It was that summer when things were set in motion.

She’d woken to the sound of an engine too close to her window at number five, and thought little of it. It was when she heard a crash that she’d startled fully awake. It wasn’t everyday you see an old banger hovering over your neighbour’s window.

When she rubbed her eyes and opened the window, and finally decided that it definitely wasn’t a dream, she saw an equally startled face look back at her from the passenger seat. While the other boys in the floating car were busy sneaking Harry out, this one was looking right back at her with the expressions of someone who was caught doing something wrong and unsure of what to do. Sheepishly, the boy waved a freckled hand at her - she waved back, of course, still dazed and half awake. He smiled, like they were sharing a secret. In a way, they were.

It wasn’t until years had passed, when the Dursleys were packing for an impromptu trip, that she would open the door to meet that strange boy; older and more refined, with that same expression on his maturing face. He introduced himself as George Weasley, and asked for nothing but her name. He said there was something he had to take care of, but when it was all over, he would come back and take her for a fly.

George Weasley always keeps his promises.

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It was their fourth month anniversary (which George insisted was actually a thing) when they finally took a trip to the burrow. The war was over, everyone was there, and things were finally starting to feel back to normal. All he wanted now was to mix his beloved girlfriend in with the rest of the family.

It wasn’t the worst situation to be in, but it was on the top ten introverts’ worst nightmares list. So many new and important people to meet and bond with, and (Y/N) always seemed to screw up and say or do the wrong thing. And she just knew there’s be too much attention on her for her liking. It was going to be a tense day. But she would do it - of course she would. Anything for him.

“Don’t worry, love.” George tried to sooth her anxieties - though masked, they were clear to him. He laced their fingers together and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be fine. Mum’ll be busy, Dad’ll probably just ask questions about muggle stuff, and you already know Fred and Harry.”

He encouraged her to take a deep breath, waited a beat, and opened the front door before she could think too long.

An hour later the family had all gathered in the burrow’s cozy living room, cups of tea in hand and plates of little sandwiches and biscuits on the coffee table. George was sat at (Y/N)‘s side, holding his mug on the arm of the sofa and sitting his hand just above her knee with the other (a respectable distance away from her skirt). His parents had already asked her all of the usual questions, and had occasionally been distracted by Fred when he saw them getting too excitable.

“You’re doing fine, love.” George whispered in her ear, beaconing her to finally relax a little. “Don’t worry so much.”

“I’m trying, but you know I can’t help that.” She muttered back, holding her tea with both hands and rubbing her thumb along the edge to distract herself some.

He said nothing, knowing there wasn’t much he could say that would truly put her at ease, and landed a quick kiss on the side of her head. Part of her wished he didn’t, not in front of everyone (though they weren’t looking), as she flushed under his affection.

Harry came from the kitchen with a bowl of fizzing whizzbies for the table and a new cup of tea for Ginny, then sat himself at (Y/N)’s other side. He seemed to understand that his presence comforted her, nudging her slightly as if to say ‘ease up’.

“So, (Y/N),” Percy spoke up from the dining chair he’d moved over for extra seating space, dunking a custard cream into his steaming mug, “how is it you know Harry, then?”

Her heart did that little jump it always did when someone addressed her, and she did her best to ignore it as she thought up what to say. “We grew up together down Privet Drive.” She answered simply, sipping her warm drink to keep away the dry mouth.

Harry hummed. “She lived right across from me, at number five.”

“What a charming coincidence,” Molly smiled motherly, “and how is it you met George?”

Fred laughed from the other sofa, and George donned a cheeky and somewhat guilty smile. “Funny story, actually. D’you remember that time we took the car?”

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Reader at number five is my new favourite George pairing🥰

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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

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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.

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.

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 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??

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.

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GRA (1) - Grumpy old man

Summary: You're roommates.

Pairing: TfatWs!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, banter, jealousy, vomiting, a hint of fluff

Grumpy Roommate Adventures

He huffs while studying the newspaper. “Hmm…all those young people died this week,” Bucky grumbles as you sneak behind him to glance at whatever he’s reading.

You shake your head. Who reads the newspaper these days? We get news from apps or online newspapers.

“Stop being a grumpy old man, Barnes. Be happy you’re still young and full of energy…” You snicker because the people he called young are a ninety-five-year-old man and a ninety-nine-year-old lady.

Bucky makes a face, glaring in your direction as you are busy preparing a bowl of cereal.

You’re the cocky addition to the crazy bunch of people sharing a house. Sam and Bucky’s cat are the other two. And, of course, the biggest grump you ever met—James Buchanan Barnes.

The icy soldier, or whatever people called him in the past. You’re too tired of and disinterested in gossip to care about bad pet names.

“Who forgot to bring out the trash?” Sam calls from the living room. “It reeks, guys.”

“It was Bucky’s turn,” you lie and grin at Bucky, who narrows his eyes. “What?”

“I told you not to call me that!” He hisses in your direction. “And no. It wasn’t my turn to bring out the trash!”

“But you are the trashcan man!” You argue, pointing at his metal arm. “You’ve got the arm and all. I’m so weak and need help with carrying heavy stuff.”

He huffs, knowing you didn’t like he offered to carry your neighbor’s bags last week. Bucky is not interested in the quirky blonde but liked that you got angry and grabbed his hand.

“You can bring out the trash,” Bucky bites back. “I’m not going to do it again. You’ve got legs, so walk.”

“Big grump!” You grunt and slip off the chair to bring the trash out. It’s your turn, but you had hoped Bucky would lend you a hand too. “I guess you must be busty and brainless to get your help!” You snap at him before storming out of the kitchen.

“It helps not to be a grump!” He calls after you, laughing as you turn around and stick your tongue out.

“You’re an old, grumpy man, Barnes! Don’t you dare steal my cookies again! I won’t share!” You give him the stinky eye before turning to bring the trash out.

Sam watches you walk past him. You mutter under your breath when you get out of the house, only to face your neighbor. The busty blonde bitch tries to flirt with your roommate all the damn time.

“Y/N,” she coos and immediately walks toward you. “What a nice surprise to meet you here. How are you? Where’s James?”

“Uhm… I live here.” You roll your eyes. “Why would I not be around to bring the trash out? And I don’t know where the old man is hiding.”

“Oh! I thought your strong roommate would help you with that.” She cranes her neck to observe Bucky following you outside. Alpine tugged under his arm; he watches you fight with the trash can.

He smirks because you curse and mutter while stuffing the trash bag into the trash can. “Do you need help?” Bucky asks, earning a grunt from you. “I can lend you a hand, doll.”

“He’s so nice and dreamy,” your neighbor swoons, while you feel the bile rise in your throat. Urgh…the milk was not good. Clutching your stomach, you groan. “What’s wrong?” She screams when you spit your breakfast on her shirt.

“Fuck…the milk…urgh…” You groan and turn around to puke into the trash can, emptying your stomach.

“Shit, doll.” Bucky suddenly stands behind you to rub your back. “Did you not check on the milk? I think it was expired.”

He easily picks you up in bridal style, ignoring that your neighbor is whining about her shirt or that you puked on your shoes. “Let me down,” you weakly say. “I need to shower.”

“I’ll help you,” he shrugs when you glare at him. “What? I take any chance to get you naked…”

Tags in reblog.

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1437 words | 18+

To anyone else, it might have seemed rushed—foolish, even—to have a baby less than a year into dating. But for you and James, it felt like the most natural decision in the world. After nearly a decade of knowing him and now raising a son together, the thought of giving Henry a sibling seemed like the next step. 

Especially after he’d come home from school, buzzing with excitement as he chattered about how his friend had a baby brother who played trains with him every night—which was entirely untrue, considering Carter’s baby brother was only two months old. Still, Henry prattled on throughout dinner about siblings, listing off how many of his schoolmates had one and leaving little doubt about what he was hinting at.

You and James exchanged amused glances throughout dinner, but it wasn’t until Henry turned to you both after his bedtime story and asked, “How do I get a sibling?” that the idea started to feel like a real possibility.

Which is why you’d bought a pack of ovulation tests—just in case—and finally decided to use one when your app suggested the timing was right. When you showed James the test, you’d half-expected him to sweep you off your feet and carry you straight to bed. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached for your face, his hands gently cradling your cheeks as his eyes searched yours. “Are you sure, my love?” he asked softly. “You really want this?”

“It’s not like we’ve been very careful, Jamie.” You had murmured, and an amused smile emerged on his lips.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head gently. “But this—” his gaze dropped to the ovulation test still in your hand “—feels real. And I need you to be absolutely certain.”

“I am,” you whispered, nodding as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Do you want this?”

“I’ve known I wanted a family with you for years, darling,” he had said, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

You should have known, given how seriously James took the test, that he was going to treat tonight with the same intensity. But you weren’t prepared for just how different it would feel. 

Being with James had always been good, but this—this was something entirely different.

The way he had parted your thighs with a touch that was both gentle and impossibly intense. How his eyes had never left yours, burning with quiet hunger as he had kissed and nipped his way up from your ankles, each movement slow and deliberate, filled with a promise that had made your heart race. You had laid back on your shared bed, your body humming with anticipation, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes as desperate pleas slipped from your swollen lips, a lingering reminder of his previous kisses.

Desperation laced every movement as James slid his tongue through your folds, kissing your clit with a moan that nearly rivaled your own. He licked and sucked with a hunger that seemed to chase his own pleasure—and with the way he hummed against you, he might as well have been. He stayed there for what felt like hours, drawing out every sigh, every gasp, every pant from you. You remembered telling him he didn’t need to do this, but James, thoroughly offended, had insisted that he wanted to do this, that he didn’t want this night to be anything less than special—his tone leaving no room for argument.

But nothing compared to the way it felt when he pushed into you, his body towering over yours—one hand propped next to your head, the other gripping your knee, holding you open as he locked eyes with you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs, his voice low and reverent, thick with longing. “I can’t wait to make you a mum.” His words are a soft murmur, but the promise they carry sends a shiver of anticipation through you, stirring something raw and primal deep inside. A smile tugs at his lips before he leans in, his kiss gentle yet all-consuming. “Again,” he murmurs against your mouth, the word lingering between you.

The pace he sets is agonizingly slow—so slow it almost feels torturous, each deliberate thrust stretching you out deliciously. You let out a shuddering moan, your body arching with a cry as you grip the headboard, your fingers trembling. 

Your other hand digs into his bicep, the muscle flexing and rippling beneath your touch as he moves against you with such intensity as though he’s savoring every second. His gaze never leaves yours, dark with desire, as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your neck with a broken moan leaving his lips. 

The image of you full with his child lingers in his mind, almost tauntingly. The thought ignites a rush of desire through his veins, leaving a scorching, simmering heat in its wake as if the very idea of it consumes him entirely.

No matter how much he wants to lose control, thrusting into your wet heat at a desperate pace—he doesn’t. He takes his time, his words a steady stream of depraved and intimate thoughts whispered into your ear, each one sending a shiver down your spine. Wrecked by him, your hand slides from his bicep to his back, feeling the taut strength of his muscles beneath your touch, and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted him more.

It feels like hours—you're certain it has—lost in the depths of pure lovemaking. There's no other word for it because, in this moment, you’ve never felt so deeply connected to another person. It’s a bond so profound, so tender, that you can’t imagine ever wanting to let go. The trust, the love, between you and James is so palpable, so consuming, that it leaves you breathless, dizzy with the intensity of it.

The room hums with the soft creak of the bed beneath you, mingling with your desperate cries—begging James to “keep going,” to do it “just like that,” your voice trembling with need. “Oh, I’m close…” you whisper, your words barely audible through the haze of sensation. James feels the shift in you when your legs begin to shake, the subtle quiver of your body telling him you're on the edge. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, burying your face in his neck, your breath ragged and uneven as you brace for the overwhelming wave of pleasure building inside you.

“James, please—” Your voice trembles, breaking on a near sob as your hand finds his cheek, your palm pressing firmly against his skin, urging him to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours, and the raw desperation in them steals your breath; he looks seconds away from unraveling completely. You lean up, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s as frantic as it is tender, drawing a wrecked moan from deep within his chest. Pulling back just enough to catch your breath, your plea spills out again, softer this time but no less urgent. “Please, fill me up. I want to be full of you; I want it to take.”

You don’t know if it’s your desperate words or the way you beg him, but something shifts in James. His voice is a strained plea as he urges you to let go, to come for him, and the sound of it sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body tightens around him, fluttering and squeezing with a rhythm that’s almost too much for him to bear. A guttural curse falls from his lips as he follows you, his release overtaking him in a way that feels both overwhelming and grounding. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as he fills you completely.

It takes a few minutes for your breathing to steady, your body loose and warm, still tingling from the aftershocks. James's weight rests against you—not overwhelming, but comforting in a way that makes you feel completely safe.

He shifts slightly, propping himself up on his forearms to ease his weight off you, and his face hovers just above yours. His lips curl into a soft, tired smile, his hair a tousled mess that only makes him look more endearing. Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering.

“You’re going to be the best mum.” His voice is low, rich with sincerity, each word dripping like warm honey and settling deep within your chest. You cling to the sound, his sweet words, and more than anything, you hope he’s right.

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