#not quite sure about the colours but I give up

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Inspired by this pic made by @infernally_fond

-

When the devil asks if you want to play, you’re supposed to say no. It’s a lesson most people learn as children. Some don’t take it to heart. They say yes instead because the devil promises he will give them something they desperately want in return.

Tav says yes because she fancies him.

That’s alright. They aren’t playing a game of life or death, and her soul isn’t on the line; just her dignity, and she never had much of that to begin with. Only an idiot would agree to a game they don’t understand. Tav isn’t stupid (honest!) but Raphael’s easy smile and request for her company – mostly the smile, it’s a dangerous weapon put it away damn you – chased off all her answers that weren’t ‘yes, of course, I’d love to play Lanceboard with you!’ So now she sits in his room at Sharess’ Caress watching him watch her across the table as she bumbles and bullshits her moves, losing pieces and losing her mind, because she knows he knows she has no idea what she’s doing but he hasn’t said a damn word about it.

He chooses a piece. She watches his long, deft fingers carefully position it on the board. Lucky thing. “Your move,” he says, languid. Everything about him is relaxed, even his posture. He’s resting his cheek on his fist, elbow on the table. Awful manners; must’ve been raised in a barn. His dark eyes glint in a way that makes it obvious he’s enjoying her squirming, her buffoonery. His expression is cooking her from the inside: not-quite-placid, could be conceived as bored if not for the subtle smoulder, a quirk of mildly sadistic amusement. If he keeps staring at her like that, she fears she might do something foolish.

She blindly grabs her piece. She doesn’t know which it is; knows it’s hers from the colour and that’s about it. Smacks it onto a square that’s (probably) alright. Nods, leans back in her chair, pretends to be confident with her approach, her strategy. “There. Your turn.”

Raphael blinks lazily at her. At the board. “Inspired. Truly,” he drawls, making his next move. “By madness, but nonetheless.”

Tav purses her lips. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to them. “What is madness but a denial of reality? That’s what you said before, right?”

His mouth twists with a lopsided, barely-there smirk. He surely doesn’t miss her glances, either. “Indeed I did. And what reality are you denying at this moment, little mouse?”

Knowing how to play this bloody game, she thinks, wishing he’d challenged her to checkers instead. “Letting you win,” she responds. Round peg, square hole – put her piece here, steal the piece she jealously witnessed him fondle, strangle it in her fist for its crime. He chuckles; rich, deep, raspy.

“A daring manoeuvrer, and highly illegal.” Yet he does nothing to rectify her blatant ignorance. (Actually, devil, what’s illegal is that chuckle). He simply makes his next move. “You know, it’s usually customary for one to be aware of the stakes of a game before they play it.”

And this, Tav thinks in resignation, is why he’s let me trample all over the match like a drunken elephant. She never learns. Somewhere, Wyll is shaking his head in disappointment.

“You didn't tell me there were stakes,” she accuses; considers pouting but doubts that would work on this crafty creature. “I thought we were just playing for fun.”

“And we are, my dear friend,” Raphael coos, terribly entertained (bastard). “What’s more fun than the thrill of a daring wager?”

“The security of knowing I’m not going to lose my soul?”

Raphael’s grin stretches; sharpens. “Oh, but I thought you were going to beat me. Where has your confidence gone, all of a sudden?”

He’s wretched. Vile. Despicable. Tav is so attracted to him it’s ludicrous. “I’ll win,” she snaps, “and then maybe I’ll take your soul instead. I’ll put it in a little jar and keep it with my other shiny baubles and all the things Scratch dug up. How’s that for a wager?”

“Riveting. Inexperienced, as far as eternal torment goes, but it’s a start,” the devil praises, pleased when Tav scowls at him. “Though, as delectable as your soul would be, it isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“What, then?”

“Hmm…” He makes a show of drumming his fingers on the table in thought. Large, lithe, well-groomed; she likes his hands. Often wonders what other kinds of magic they can do. (Look away, Tav! This is serious!) “How about, if I win, you tell me exactly why you agreed to this game. Why you abandoned the safety of your companions and entered my den alone. Why you were so eager to say yes. And don’t think about lying, little mouse. I’ll know if you do.”

Well, shit. Letting him eat her soul didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. One does not simply inform a devil that they like him – especially not this devil. He will use that knowledge, that power, for naught but nefarious purposes, manipulating her much more than he already does. The worst part is, Tav knows she’ll enjoy it. You’re well and truly fucked, mate, as Karlach would say.

Stomach in her shoes, Tav plucks up all the courage and stupidity she has left. “And if I win? What do I get?”

“That’s up to you,” Raphael says. He clearly thinks he has the upper hand. He’s right, but damn him anyway.

Fine, then. In for a penny and all that. “If I win, I want a kiss.”

She’s surprised him, she can tell. She’s surprised herself, scarcely believing she actually said that, but it’s out there now, in the open, lingering like a bad stink. She’s basically already given him the answer he wanted, but Tav isn’t under the illusion he didn’t know beforehand. The power, you see, comes from getting her to admit it aloud.

“A…kiss,” he repeats slowly.

“Yes.” She sticks to her guns despite her racing heart, sweaty palms, impending sense of doom. “From you, obviously.”

He considers it for a long moment, statuesque, giving almost nothing away. Tav does her best not to squirm out of her seat, pretends to be as aloof and unaffected as he is, to questionable success. The satisfaction glittering in Raphael’s dark eyes makes her grind her teeth. He’s toying with his food, as he is wont to do. Stretching out this moment until she’s at her most uncomfortable. Pulling her nerves taut. The split second before they break, he responds.

“Acceptable. Shall we continue, then?”

“Let’s.”

Tav expects a massacre. Tries to mentally prepare for him to pull the rug from beneath her feet, decimate her pathetic attempts, and then string her up by her metaphorical toes and bleed her for every pathetic confession and admission she can give while he gorges on her emotional turmoil (and masochistic delight). That isn’t what happens. Instead, she wins – in about as loose as the term can be used, but still.

“My, my!” Raphael exclaims, faking every bit of awe as he beholds the board, the claiming of his king, the crumbling of his miniature marble empire. “It seems my devilish wits weren’t enough to stop the might of the Hero of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve been bested. A villain, defeated. Quite the fitting end for this little tale. Don’t you agree?”

Tav sits in stunned silence. Of course he let her do this. She’s not completely delusional (yet), but the implications for why are taking their sweet time sinking into her holey grey matter.

“Ah, but I suppose the Hero wants what she’s owed,” the devil continues, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture. “Let it never be said that I am not a man of my word. Come then, Tav. Claim your prize.”

For a moment, Tav doesn’t move. In some ways this is worse than if he won. Raphael waits, a smirk teasing its way onto his face. He’s challenging her. Daring her. Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly. She’s already here, and she might be stupid, but she’s not a coward. Her knees only tremble slightly as she stands, makes her way to him.

He gets up, too.

He’s not much taller than her, but Tav feels like she’s approaching a mountain. The coals that have been simmering in her belly all evening catch flame. This close, the smell of him is overwhelming: cherries, smoke, fire. The heat he gives off can’t be anything but Infernal, despite his human guise. Anticipation sets her jaw, her throat dry. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking as he slowly, slowly, leans forward, dark eyes fixed on her mouth. His breath is hot as it fans across her face. Tav’s lips part unconsciously, eyelids closing. He’s but a whisper away, the silk of his sinful mouth a phantom against her own…

He kisses her cheek. The left one, high on her cheek bone, and though he’s completely composed, she can hear the brief huff of amusement leave his nose as he pulls away.

“There you are,” he says, jovial, almost business-like as she gapes at him, humiliated, flabbergasted, furious. “One kiss, its nature wholly unspecified, delivered as promised. I always deal fairly.”

This fucker’s trying not to laugh. Tav can see the tell-tale twitch of his lips (lips whose imprint burns on her cheek, entirely not where she wanted thank you very much) and the gleam of delight in his eye. Oh yes, he’s had fun with her today.

“Is something wrong?” He asks her innocently when she does nothing but glare at him.

“No,” she grits out.

“Good,” he purrs, unable to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “I’d hate to hear that you’re dissatisfied with your victory. I did my very best to acquiesce. As a little advice for the future, from one thrill-seeker to another: you might try being more specific with the terms of your wagers. After all, what’s that saying you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes. The devil’s in the details. Keep that in mind for next time, hm? Ta-ta.”

A click of his fingers, a spark of hellish magic, and she’s standing in the middle of their rooms at the Elfsong tavern.

“Arsehole!”

From where he’s lounging on a sofa, Astarion lowers the book he’s reading enough to raise an eyebrow at Tav. “Who’s the arsehole, darling, and what have they done?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tav mutters. “Where’s Gale? I need to learn how to play lanceboard.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 #fanfic #cringe

[vourequat]

愛しています、ミスター・ジャパン！

WARNING: Nothing really, just some fluff, not proof read as much, horrible English, fem!reader.

This is the very first fanfic I'm writing for my birthday special, basically I'll be posting short or long fanfics along the days leading up to my birthday (I surely didn't forget that my birthday month is tomorrow). So be thankful that I'm spoiling you all instead of myself (⁠ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠)⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The constant sweat leaving your body to cool off your body was a huge sign that it was indeed the summer season, when he saw you all fatigued after coming home late after a mission due to the heat and the exhaustion of your already tiring work he immediately thought of one thing and one thing only— the thing you two had always dreamed about.

"Hon, morning...." He smiled as he flipped the last pancake he'll be making this morning, he turned around to greet you in an embrace and a quick kiss to your head.

You only hummed, still half asleep.

As you were sitting down and sipping on the coffee that he had served you he decided to sit down before decorating the pancakes, it was quite unusual really, Kento wasn't exactly the type to sit down or lay down without finishing something first so you immediately knew that something was up.

Kento took a deep breath, "So... I've been thinking" he began.

You lifted your head up from your coffee to meet his hazel eyes that brightened the moment you made eye contact, it was as if his pupils formed a heart the longer he looked at you.

"Yes...?"

"Why don't we spend the summer in Kuantan like we always talked about?" He continued as he slid two airplane tickets to Malaysia over to you.

It took you a bit to get it but once you did, you stood up in joy and attacked him with a big hug and wet kisses all around his face.

"Well, someone's obsessed with me...!" Kento laughed as he pulled you onto his lap and looked deeply into your eyes, "You'll be the death of me... a death that I'll accept with open arms."

Once you feel the sand on your toes, you feel like you were in a dream.

You couldn't believe you and your long time boyfriend had finally set foot in your dream escape place, the place where you two had dreamt of retiring to after you leave the sorcery life behind and just live normally.

Behind you, you heard a sigh and a grunt.

You turned around and immediately gasped— The Kento Nanami was on one his knee in front of you!

"Hey..." You were already on the verge of tears as the people around you gasped and cooed at the sight that they were witnessing first hand.

"God this is embarrassing but..." Kento sighed and mustered up the courage from his entire soul and took out a small velvety box from his pocket.

"Honey... I... we've been together for a good eleven years now and I've wanted nothing but to continue to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night seeing you beside me."

He began to grow more flustered with the amount of people now looking at them, he bickered himself from picking this over a private setting but he was just panicking the entire airplane ride on how to execute his proposal, normally he'd go by every proposal with flying colours but this was different— he was offering you to be his wife, to be the mother of his children, to be the person he'll love until he can't remember anything else anymore as you two grow old.

"I wish for the heavens above to hear my wishes... my wish that I can be your husband, your partner, your boyfriend, and your everything for my entire life time..."

"Will you marry me—"

"Yes! Oh my gosh, yes!" You squealed as you pulled him up into a hug, every single person who watched all clapping and cheering for the two of you.

Kento couldn't believe it anymore; first, you two finally fulfilled your dreams to go to Malaysia and now you two will soon be wedded.

"I can't wait to finally see you crying as I walk down the aisle..." You both chuckled at your joke as he finally sealed the deal and slid the ring into your ring finger before giving you a quick kiss.

"Mrs. Nanami does sound nice..."

A/N: I forgot that my birthday is near but that's okay at least I didn't forget on the literal day of my birthday like last year and wondered why was everyone cooking and why were there so many people, but anyways, yeah, I'll be posting tomfoolery for a few days until my birthday (I won't say when, baka manghingi ka pa lumpia)

I want a Jollibee themed birthday (I'm literally a grown woman)

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujustsu nanami #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento is my husband go fight a wall #jujustsu fluff

[zenopic]

#love ourselves some angsty boi #sephiroth #ffvii #procreate #still experimenting with brushes #found a few I like #not quite sure about the colours but I give up #found out Procreate has a auto-timelapse features #obsessed #save me from myself #it also has a stroke counter #7810 strokes in 9h #i am slow af when the colouring phase starts #why does the photo export from procreate look like shit? #the colours are not as vibrant compared to pre-export #fanart #digital art #ffvii remake #artists on tumblr #progress video

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.

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Here’s the Masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #itto x reader #ayato x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #cyno x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #tighnari x reader #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Where's Mummy?"

A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!

Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation

Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)

RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"

His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.

You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.

Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.

Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"

"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."

The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.

Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.

So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.

"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"

"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"

"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again

Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.

...

When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.

"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."

"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"

"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.

"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.

Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.

"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."

That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.

"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.

"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."

˚ · • . ° .

ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS

"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."

Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.

"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.

Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.

Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.

"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"

"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.

Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.

Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.

"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.

Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.

"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.

"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.

Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"

"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.

...

Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.

Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.

"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."

"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.

The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.

The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"

"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."

"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.

"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.

"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.

You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too

˚ · • . ° .

XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"

"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.

But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.

You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"

Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."

Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.

Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.

"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.

"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls

...

"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.

"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"

"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.

Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?

The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.

"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.

The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.

"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.

The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.

"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.

"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.

"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.

But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.

"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!

But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #fluffy #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel sfw #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

[satoruhour]

悟

a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k

“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.

“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.

“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.

“and yet you give me your face to cu—”

“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.

gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.

gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.

“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.

“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.

gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.

“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.

gojo could say the same about you.

he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.

“say it again.”

“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.

“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.

“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”

your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”

“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.

“again.”

“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.

gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.

“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.

people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.

you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.

“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.

“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”

with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.

#writing sounds a little different bc it’s from last year !!!! #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh my gosh! HELLOO!

Anywho~

I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?

Thank you!!

Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—

Alastor- Redemption Path

Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him

Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you

Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible

Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing

“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest

He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around

The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!

“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him

Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo

You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet

Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated

You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it

Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room

You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring

It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…

Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!

“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel short story #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel radio demon #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel characters #vivziepop hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor short story #alastor headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon x reader #radio demon #romantic headcanons #romantic short story #crush short story #crush headcanons #romantic alastor #romantic alastor x reader #hazbin radio demon #the radio demon

[feirceangel]

Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.

So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!

Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.

"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.

"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."

Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"

"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."

Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."

The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."

Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.

Always plans within plans within plans.

It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.

House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.

The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.

Until now, apparently.

A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.

He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.

And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.

He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.

~~~

Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.

So much more colour than Feyd is used to.

His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.

"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.

"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."

Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.

"As I said, it's an honour."

His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.

"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.

"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."

This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"

"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."

Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.

His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.

They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.

The viewing box is empty.

"There my lord."

Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.

"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.

He hadn't expected this.

Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.

She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.

He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.

“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.

“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”

He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.

“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”

He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.

“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”

Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.

He cannot wait.

There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.

Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.

He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.

You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”

His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.

“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.

“I prefer to do it myself.”

He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”

“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.

It seems he’s struck a nerve.

“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”

You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”

Your last statement has him pausing.

“What did you say?”

Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.

“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”

He does not remember such a thing.

“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”

Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.

A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.

He’s shocked he forgot it.

You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.

“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”

“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.

“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”

He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.

“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.

You smirk, “Does it not please you?”

“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.

“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”

He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.

You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.

Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.

You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.

Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.

“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”

“None were you, my lord.”

“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.

You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”

“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.

He releases his hold.

“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.

“Because I will make you.”

Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.

“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”

“Of course, my lady.”

[Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!]

#female reader #reader insert #feyd oneshot #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd imagine #dune #dune part two #dune x reader #fanfic

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tomato faced

a/n: I told you guys I came up with an abundant amount of shy reader smut the other day

warnings: Steve Harrington x shy!reader, smut, fingering, dirty talk

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Quite literally curled up in his lap, Steve’s fingers were buried so deep within you that the root of his palm nuzzled against the plump of your clit. With your flushed face smooched against the rapid pulse clear on his neck, you felt him chuckle beneath you, “you’re adorable,” not slowing down his digits pace one bit, drawing out even more embarrassingly lewd wet noises with every motion. 

“Stop it,” you whined, not wanting him to tease you any further than the cruel amount he already had been, as you clung to his t-shirt, wrinkling it with your heated grip. 

“No, you are,” he pestered on as your thighs shook, squeezing his strong forearm as he played with your sobbing cunt, “getting all tomato faced on me just because your pussy’s crying out for me. Don’t you hear that?” he purposely angled his fingers, enriching the reverberations of the sloppy result of your desire, “hear how much she wants me, huh? Can’t even imagine what colour you’ll turn once I’m finally balls deep in you… purple maybe?”

“You’re not being funny,” you smiled shyly, thankful that he couldn’t see it. 

“Oh yeah? You sure about that?” his warm laughter vibrated in his chest as he rocked his fingers more vigorously inside of you, making you croak out a needy moan, your face burying even deeper as your limps debated on whether or not they should cling onto him further or if they should just flail around his pistoling pace, “that’s what I thought,” he chuckled, pressing his lips against your hairline as your hands flexed mercilessly against the cotton of his shirt, “you sure you don’t wanna take that pretty little face out of hiding and peek down at how pretty you are for me?” he asked softly through his everlasting teasing air, not giving up as you managed a small shake of your head, “what if we just sit in front of the mirror together, huh? Give you a real good view of what it looks like when I get to stretch you out so fucking perfectly?”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington hc #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb

[starkowswife]

R.C / HEADCANNONS

pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

summary: what it would be like to date THE Rafe Cameron.

a/n: first ever written work so sorry if it isn’t great! please give me feedback of what i could do better in the future. also sarah and rafe are actually quite close in this.

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, sorry if there’s errors. a bit of nsfw at the end. mentions of fighting and implied towards death but only for a little bit and not at all descriptive. let me know if there should be any others!

SFW:

- he would spoil you so much.

- he sees your shein wishlist? he’s buying it all.

- you grab a shirt to look at it when shopping with him? he’s grabbing it in your size and even checking for it in other colours.

- you could even so much as be glancing around a shop and your eyes linger a little too long on one item and he’s getting it for you.

- even when you tell him you feel bad having him spend this much money on you he’ll just laugh and say “my sweet girl deserves everything.”

- he’d drop everything for you if you needed him.

- you call him crying? he could be in the middle of an important deal and he’s leaving to come get you.

- he’d fight, and probably kill, for you.

- if a guys getting a little too close at a party and making you uncomfortable Rafe is there immediately.

- he’d pull the guy away from you and just start laying punches after punches into his face until someone just drags the other guy out of the party so it doesn’t get too out of hands.

- then he’d hug you and leave kisses on your forehead while asking if you wanna leave.

- you’d always be at his house.

- which means you’d see Wheezie a lot and she loves you and is always asking you to do things with her.

- it kind of annoys Rafe because he wants to spend every second with you and Wheezie’s ruining that.

- but he also finds it really sweet.

- you’d also be best friends with Sarah.

- as soon as her brother announced he actually is with someone and not just having flings with anyone and everyone she was so excited.

- Sarah knew you had to be amazing to make her brother settle down.

- and you and her got along instantly.

- he’d actually be very affectionate.

- always having his hands on you in one way or another.

- also because he’s very jealous he’d need everyone to know you’re his and his only.

- but he’d always reassure you, especially when overthinking.

- you’d catch him staring at you and you’d ask why, thinking maybe you have something on your face or you look bad but he’d just say, “can’t i look at my gorgeous girlfriend?”

- someone would make a comment about you two saying they’re surprised someone like you could pull someone like Rafe and he’d be furious.

- he’d deal with them and then immediately pick you up and you guys would be leaving.

- as soon as you two were alone he’d reassure you by saying something like “you’re perfect baby, they’re just jealous they don’t have what we have.”



NSFW:

- as mentioned earlier, he gets very jealous.

- and he gets jealous easily.

- so if he sees a guy checking you out while you’re in public he grabs you and puts his hands on your ass while making out with you so the boy knows your Rafe’s.

- he’d then take you home to remind you you’re his.

- or even just in the car if he really couldn’t wait.

- “you’re mine. you know that right?”

- “say it baby, say you’re only mine.”

- knowing damn well you couldn’t talk when he was thrusting into you like that.

- but you had to try anyway for him.

- he’d be big on hickeys.

- he’d like marking you so everyone knows, you are his, and he’d love when you do the same.

- if you still had your v card he’d make sure to be really nice and gentle the first few times and slowly start getting tougher and introducing you to new things.

- always down for a quickie, it doesn’t matter where you are.

- he’d seriously just love you unconditionally and everyone knows he’s whipped for you.

#rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron outerbanks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #obx fic #obx smut #obx fluff

[sansaorgana]

— DAMAGED GOODS

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

SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍

WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding

WORD COUNT — 6,610

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAMAGED GOODS

Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.

They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.

“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.

The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.

“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.

“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”

“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”

“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.

The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.

“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.

Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.

“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.

“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.

About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.

(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.

They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.

The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.

(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.

She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 

(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.

The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.

“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.

The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.

“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.

“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”

“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”

“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.

“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.

“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”

“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.

“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”

Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.

The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.

“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.

“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.

“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.

He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.

“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.

“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.

“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.

“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.

He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.

She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.

In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.

“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.

“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.

“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”

“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.

“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.

“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.

“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.

Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.

“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.

“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.

As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.

That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.

Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.

And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.

Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.

At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.

“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.

“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”

“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.

“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.

“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.

“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.

But only one of them loved her… so much.

She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.

“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.

“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.

Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.

“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”

She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.

“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.

“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.

She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.

“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.

Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.

“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”

Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.

He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.

“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.

“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.

“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.

“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.

“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.

“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.

“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.

“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.

“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.

His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.

“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.

She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.

When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.

But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.

Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 

He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.

Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.

No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.

He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.

After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.

She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.

“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.

He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.

“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.

“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”

“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.

“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”

“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.

She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.

Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.

“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.

In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 

He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.

On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”

He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.

“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.

She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.

She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.

“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.

He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.

“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.

She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.

He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.

What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.

None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.

She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.

His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.

“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.

When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.

“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.

He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.

The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.

Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.

Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”

“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.

“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”

“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.

“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.

“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.

“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”

Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.

“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”

Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.

At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.

“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.

“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”

Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.

“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”

“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.

“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”

“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”

“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”

(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.

“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.

Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.

“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.

He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.

“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.

“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.

She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.

“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:

“I am.”

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

[love-toxin]

(cw: yandere, noncon, drugging, kidnapping, daddyfication)

i think i need to be fr and acknowledge how i can't stop thinking about getting kidnapped by Gallagher and being his lil babydoll...

get all dressed up and drink all the fancy cocktails he mixes cuz it's easier to manhandle someone when they're drunk. being dragged to and from the bar day and night because, despite being his captive, he doesn't mind showing you off since he's sure he can train you not to break under any questioning from nosy busybodies.

he names a cocktail after you, all bright and cheerful with a mix of your favourite colours, but a sip of it proves too sour for you to handle. it's not even bittersweet, just a burning, acidic taste that bites your tongue all the way down to your throat as Gallagher watches you drink it. you've gotta drink at least one a day, per his rules. as strong as it is, it never tastes enough of alcohol for it to give you any serenity.

on the other hand, he doesn't really drink when he's around you. after he puts you to bed or when he's alone, sure, he'll have a couple dreamjoys--but aside from that, he keeps as sober as he can be when he has his pretty thing to look after.

he's kinda like a dad, you realize. he likes it. it's weird, but it becomes overly comfortable; he enjoys feeding you and eats better when he's got to make sure you're full and eating good. he still skimps on sleep often but he'll cuddle you when he slides into bed next to you. he spends so much time worrying after you that you might end up calling him 'dad' or 'daddy' by accident, and he'll encourage it to stick without thinking. he praises you and punishes you in equal measure, one with kisses and sex and the other with alcohol, restraints, and....more sex. for a middle-aged guy, he's got quite the hunger for getting rough in bed, but maybe that's just because of you.

after a while, when you're sufficiently brainwashed after so much gaslighting and manipulation, you might get jealous or worried that Gallagher's gonna find someone else if you're bad. that maybe daddy's love isn't unconditional like he said if you misbehave too much. that's one of the only thoughts he doesn't let fester in you--you can worry about being well-behaved, or if he's gonna let you have dessert after dinner, but not whether he loves you or not. that won't ever change. why would he put so much effort into training you keeping up your good behavior just to lie and cheat on you? that doesn't make any sense. daddy still loves you even when you're bad.

cause daddy isn't all that great of a guy, either. in fact, he's pretty much an unhinged, perverse psycho. but maybe you've forgotten that now, and all the better for him.

#gallagher #gallagher hsr #honkai star rail #hsr #gallagher x reader #gallagher hsr x reader #spicy writing #ellie writes

[jinuaei]

Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage. 

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth. 

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed. 

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.” 

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up. 

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden? 

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!” 

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well. 

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages. 

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

 “So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?” 

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food. 

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food. 

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…” 

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

(I unfortunately do not do taglists)

Support me on Ko-fi

Divider by @/cafekitsune

#yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

[xxblairexxss]

Pick me up (Part 1)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne

“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.

The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.

“Hello…?”

“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.

“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.

You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.

You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.

“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.

You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”

“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”

“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”

He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.

“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.

“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.

“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”

“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.

“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.

“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.

“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”

“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc blurb

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

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