What He Likes

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When five daughters of Great Houses arrive on Giedi Prime, Feyd is meant to select one as a wife. But out of all of the foreigners on his territory, it is the Princess of Kaitain’s handmaid that catches his eye.

Notes/Warnings: Feyd is possessive as usual.

Words: 3100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen likes what he likes. There’s no complexity to it. No hidden criteria. What he likes is decided in a straightforward manner based solely on gut instinct, and questions of whether or not it is wise to like what he likes do not follow. He simply sees a thing, enjoys how it looks, and therefore, likes it.

When the eligible women of five Great Houses stand before him in a neat little row, he likes none of them. Four Ladies and a Princess, all of whom do not hit him in the gut with that feeling, and all of whom have flaws fatal to the name of House Harkonnen.

Atreides—a lame attempt at a peace offering. Fenring—a Bene Gesserit witch. Corrino—a spoiled, royal brat existing under the shadow of her eldest sister. And the other two, Kenric and Wallach, have faces he cannot be expected to look upon for the rest of his life.

Not one brushes the cusp of satisfactory. Not one is good enough to take for a bride. But then, as he dismisses them so they may return to their quarters before the evening meal, Feyd spots a thing he likes.

The Princess’s handmaid. A woman who pays him not a lick of attention as she trails the royal out the door. A woman who forces the pace of his heartbeats to thump twice as fast.

Perfect, he thinks. Stunning.

And without hesitation, Feyd selects his wife.

—

Reader POV

“The na-Baron has sent a guard to collect you,” Fenring’s handmaid informs you as she comes back into the room, tying a robe around her waist and plopping down on her assigned bed beside Wallach.

A lump settles in your stomach. The na-Baron—the man who has encouraged your future demise at the hands of the Great Ladies due to the attention he has neglected to provide them in favor of keeping his eyes on you.

Over seven days, they’ve been ignored entirely, as has his sense of propriety. He has invited you to dine beside him, filling your plate before bothering to notice if the women of high status have had their plates filled. He has asked you questions and listened attentively to the answers you’ve felt obligated to provide. He has ensured you’ve had a seat of phenomenal vantage to witness his arena duels, seeking you out and smirking at you as lifeless bodies slide off of his blade.

For every new morning there comes a new method of making fools out of the women who could have your neck sliced open should they so choose. And now, so it seems, he intends to bring that trouble into your nights.

“Why?” you ask, trying to cast aside the painfully obvious. You would be thrilled if one of the other handmaids could chime in with something unexpected, something not nearly as vulgar as what you’re imagining he wants from you.

Wallach and Fenring shoot you a look that suggests you can’t possibly be so ignorant.

“Why do you think?” Atredies says. “I’m surprised it took him this long.” She swipes a comb through her long locks before pointing the end of the tool at you. “You need to find a way to end whatever this is before it gets you executed. Our Ladies are just as irate over the situation as the Princess.”

Irate—a gentle word. Requests from the Princess have been trivial to a degree you’ve never before dealt with in her servitude. She has snatched any opportunity to humiliate you, degrade you. It is a burden you have shouldered with grace, but so long as the na-Baron refuses to find enjoyment in your torture, your unprotested compliance will continue to mean nothing to the Princess.

You wish he would laugh with her, just once. It would do you a world of good. But he’s not required to amuse the Princess. He does not have to bow to anyone since the Harkonnen’s growth in power shifted the hierarchy of the Houses.

“What do you propose I do?” you ask.

“Let him have you,” Kenric says. “Let him get you out of his system. If he’s no longer infatuated with you, he will finally choose a bride.”

You blanche but you do not immediately dismiss her suggestion. Kenric’s handmaid is older than you by at least a decade, and when she speaks, the rest of you listen. She has watched handmaids come and go from the mistakes they have made. She has seen how replaceable a young woman of humble birth with a limited skill set is. She knows the fights worth fighting and the fights worth surrendering, and there is much to be learned from her experience.

“That simple?” you say.

“If you make it that simple,” she replies with a nod. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, lightly shoving you toward the door. “It’s for your own good. So go.”

Your heart batters your ribcage as you recover from a stumble. Your first steps are hesitant, unsure if you’re doing the right thing. But you collect yourself, and without looking back, you continue onward, coming face-to-face with a towering figure; pale, a ghost stark against the shadowed hallway.

“Do not lag behind,” is all he says before he turns on his heel.

You follow him through darkness, past door after door, rounding corner after corner until he finally halts and gestures for you to enter a room. Knowing it isn’t a choice, you step inside.

You’re relieved to find the space decently lit from the glowing orb of white light hovering near a desk. You scan the area. His bedroom, each inch of it covered top to bottom in black. Painted walls, marble floors, drawn curtains, furniture—all a shade so deep that if you peer too long at any given section, your mind will begin to play tricks on your vision.

“What’s your name?” suddenly greets your ear in a gravelly voice. Your body flinches and your head whips in the direction of the sound. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed him leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, his brow low, his chin tilted toward his chest.

He stares at you. Intensely. Unceasingly. A gaze that reaches past what you’ve witnessed in your lifetime. You’ve seen a lover’s stare between couples, but this is different, and it’s clear you’ve lived naive to how deeply a man can look at a woman.

Heat blooms on your face. “My name?” You hadn’t noticed that he’d yet to ask. To be fair, though, no one ever asks for your name. Perhaps he understands the danger of doing so in front of others.

“You have one, I assume,” he says. “Or do I need to give you one?”

You frown. “I’m not a slave.”

The na-Baron’s lips twitch in a smirk. His chin lifts and you get a full view of his face. The angles of his cheekbones. The straight line of his nose. The edge of his jaw, sharp from the shadows butting up against his illuminated alabaster skin.

He’s beautiful—you can’t pretend otherwise. A rare kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes no sense. Strange, alien beauty that wreaks havoc on your heart rate.

You haven’t let yourself appreciate just how beautiful he is prior to now, always making an effort to look downward in his presence. And thank goodness you had enough sense. Had you taken a moment to truly observe him, you might not have been able to resist admiring.

“Then tell me your name,” he says, and gulping down the knot in your throat, you do as he asks. He tests the word on his tongue. He nods. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I like it,” he tells you. “Which means I don’t have to change it.”

You tamp down your offense, steeling your face as you remind yourself of how little control you have. A handmaid versus the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Your odds are poor.

“With all due respect, my Lord, what is it I can do for you?”

His eyes continue to be invasive, hungry, like the lions you used to read about in your spare time. Practically uncanny. The na-Baron captures the predatory glare of the beast so well that they could stand side-by-side and you would not be able to decide which of the two is more menacing.

Pushing off the wall, he slowly closes in on you until he’s a single pace away from colliding with your body. His smirk drops, then he says, “How would you like to be my wife?”

Your lungs seize. Death flashes before your eyes, a scene more horrific than what you’ve been conjuring over the last handful of days. Instead of the Princess’s hand around your neck, all of Kaitain will be chanting for your head on a spike. If they hear of the handmaid who went to Giedi Prime as a servant only to attempt stealing from the Princess, they’ll drag you to public slaughter. The handmaid who overstepped her bounds—let us make an example of her betrayal.

“I asked you a question,” he continues, yanking you from your thoughts.

You take a breath. “My Lord, I am not the offering from Kaitain. I am the Princess’s handmaid.”

Blue orbs lazily rake up and down your figure. You contain a shiver. “Yes, I have eyes.”

“Then you know she is the one for you to choose.”

“The Princess does not suit my taste,” he admits shamelessly, unbothered. His gaze falls to your lips, neediness passing between you as if he’s desperate to claim them with his own. It quickly fades, and he meets your eyes again. His voice is soft when he says, “The Emperor should not have sent you with his daughter. He knows what you look like. It is not my problem if he is foolish enough to tempt me with something better than what he views as his best.”

The dangerous flattery makes your stomach flutter, but then it flips unpleasantly. “There is no better choice than the Prin–”

“That was not a statement up for debate.”

Your teeth pierce the delicate flesh of your inner cheek. “You have many other options,” you say.

“And I have decided you are one of them.”

At your lack of retort, the corner of his lips quirk. He’s dead set, and you’re not sure you have the manipulative abilities to change his mind. Still, you try.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the blood for it, as you know,” you say in a final attempt. “Noble blood mixes with that of its status.”

“Noble blood does what it wants. That’s why we have all that we have, wouldn’t you agree?” he says, and you do agree. You have to. Noble blood knows only how to take. “There is no logic to me selecting the Princess. Should I marry her, you will be brought along as her handmaid, and she will find herself alone in a cold bed while I will be keeping you warm in mine. Is that the kind of marriage you think she envisions?”

He allows the question to hang in the air, and in that time, you imagine what he’s suggesting. You imagine the Princess shunned to another room. You imagine his body on top of yours in the bed that stands behind him, his mouth attached to your neck, sucking in time with the thrusts of his cock. Against your will, you imagine how he would feel, the pleasure he would grant you over and over, and you shake your head to banish the thoughts.

It can never happen. You know what the Princess wants. Should she become the na-Baronness, she will want him as her husband in more than name alone, alliances solidified through multiple heirs, the power dynamic rebalanced. For that to occur, his affection and a willingness to sacrifice his dominance is required. And you cannot be the thing to throw that plan into a state of turmoil.

“If I give myself to you now, will you be satisfied?” you ask.

His brow pinches, the expression on his face nestling somewhere between irritation and confusion. “For tonight,” he says. “But what of tomorrow night, and the night after? Am I expected to have you once and never again?”

“Anything more will put my life at risk upon my return to Kaitain. If the Emperor learns of it, it will be an embarrassment, and regardless of whether or not you choose the Princess as your wife, he will have me killed for daring to be a threat to your union,” you tell him. “And if you do choose her and I return here as her handmaid—though I suspect she will be selecting a replacement soon enough—she will kill me the second she sees anything other than disgust on your face when you look at me.”

A beat passes. The na-Baron hums. He reaches up and takes a lock of your hair, rubbing the strands together and curling them around his finger. A wave of goosebumps makes its way up your arms.

“Then I suppose you should not return to Kaitain,” he says.

Your head jerks back. The hair falls from his grasp. “What?”

“If your life is at risk, then you will not leave Giedi Prime. The Princess can go, but not you. The Ladies, the other handmaids, I will send them back tomorrow,” he says. He leans down, his nose mere inches from yours. His breath blankets your skin. “But not you.”

“You can’t just do that,” you whisper, but you know they’re wasted words. There’s already an overarching sense of loss on your side of the room.

His hand returns to your face and a gasp catches in your throat as his knuckle grazes down your cheek.

“Of course, I can,” he says. “The Houses bend to Harkonnen will. I can do whatever I want; have whatever I like.” He cups your chin and runs his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip before releasing it. “And what I want is you. So I will have you.”

Your pulse thrums, ears ringing. “Solely for the sake of sating carnal desire. Being your wife is not nec–”

“Carnal desire is a present concern,” he says. “But I will not have another claiming you after I have done so. What’s mine is mine. You will be my wife, and in time, we will know one another in all ways.”

The uproar. News will spread like wildfire, and you are unlikely to survive its rage. The other Great Houses will do nothing, you know, as they do not have the means or might to push against the Harkonnens, but Corrino? The Emperor?

Surely the na-Baron is aware of the intellect of Kaitain’s leaders. He must understand that the snubbing of the Princess will undoubtedly incite retaliation from the Emperor. And you’re fairly certain in which form that retaliation will come. Where the Sardaukar's strength would fail against Harkonnen forces, their assassins’ infiltration would not.

“I’ll protect you,” he says. “If they dare, I’ll protect you.”

You could scoff.

Protect you. Why bother?

Surely, he doesn't want you enough to go to those lengths. You aren’t import–

Suddenly, his hand is sliding around to the back of your neck, and your face is involuntarily heating, and he's muttering a faint “come here” as he quickly draws you into a kiss.

There’s a softness to it that offsets his hardness. A gentleness in the caress. But he has caught you unprepared, cut you off at your thoughts, and the shock has you planting your palms on his chest and shoving.

His lips are parted, his chest expanding and deflating with heavy inhales and exhales. He says nothing as unexpected regret sinks into you—regret that isn’t there simply because he is the na-Baron and you are a servant who shouldn’t be bold enough to interrupt him as he’s doing as he pleases, but regret rather because for that brief moment he felt…good, and you’re overwhelmed by the sense that you’ve cheated yourself.

You want to try it again, just to see, just to test the feeling, just to understand why you crave more. So you let the tenseness in your shoulder muscles relax. Your heavy lungs release a long-held huff of air. He watches your guard collapse at your feet.

Slowly, he reaches for you again, but he pauses just as you are ready to feel his touch as if expecting you to flinch, to run, to hide. You do none of those things, so his fingers knit into your hair and he guides your lips back to his.

Soft still—gentle—but then it changes to passion and greediness, and like the strike of a match, every inch of you is consumed by a flushing fire. Your heart races. Your brain fuzzes. Appendages tremble until the pleasant pressure of his lips on yours settles into your bones.

His tongue seeks entrance and you willingly open for him. When your tastes blend, his arm sneaks past yours to lock around your waist and he jerks you forward, welding your chest to his.

The Princess slices through the haziness in your head and you feel the intrusive instinct to end what is happening, but you can’t quite bring yourself to do it. The capability is just out of reach, and it floats further and further away with each second of him kissing you; kissing you as if trying to prove to you how right this is. And you suppose he is succeeding because the thought of stopping makes your gut twist in protest.

Then he groans—a sound that reverberates throughout your entire body, that makes your veins pulsate and your nerves tingle—and any lingering fear of the repercussions of betrayal dissipates to a barely detectable twinge; enough to permit the removal of your restraints.

With newfound freedom, you grip his shoulders and attempt to bring him closer than physical bounds will allow. You let your tongue play with his. You nip at his lips. You think you’ve lost your mind, maybe slipped to an alternate universe where this makes sense, but his arm clutches you tighter, anchoring you to reality.

Well before you’re ready, he breaks apart from you, and with great difficulty, you keep yourself from chasing after his lips like a magnet drawn to its other half.

He grins at your obvious struggle.

“You’ll do just fine as my wife,” he says, his hand coming around to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes back and forth along your cheekbone. Another peck lands on your lips. “You might even find yourself enjoying the position…and everything I intend to offer you.”

Election Time (1)

Summary: You thought he was your forever.

Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky

Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Square 7: Politics AU

You force a smile on your face and nod politely. The reporters cannot know you’re about to throw up at the thought of smiling for six more years.

Tony promised his last election campaign would be the last one. He lied, as so often. Over the years, Tony pledged to you so many things.

A quieter life. The end of his political career after six long years of having a public relationship. Children.

Your husband didn’t keep his promises, and you still didn’t get pregnant even after months of trying. The reassurance from your doctor that you’re healthy and fertile did nothing to help you keep your hopes high.

“What’s the secret of your happy marriage?” An ambitious young reporter asks. She was smiling at Tony like a love-sick puppy the whole time, and now she tries to land a punch.

Rumors about your possible infertility and Tony flirting with his election campaign manager Pepper Potts spread by Tony’s concurrent didn’t make your life easier.

“Love and devotion,” Tony answers before you get the chance to respond. “Honesty and support.” He says it without missing a beat. Ever the perfect politician—or liar—depends on if you are a reporter or his wife.

Again, you nod and smile like a perfectly trained dog. Tony grabs your hand, raising your arm with his to strike a winner pose. You wince because he forgot about the injury on your shoulder. The one you got because he wanted to try a new sex position, only to drop you.

A pair of steel-blue eyes watch Tony and you. Your bodyguard squares his jaw, watching your face contort in pain. He pushes off the wall to whisper something in the head of the security's ear.

“Senator, we should head out now,” Steve, the head of security, looks at Tony. “Sir, we are running late.”

“Right,” Tony clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he flashes everyone a stunning smile, “thank you for coming. I hope you vote for the right man in four weeks.”

Applause follows. It always does. Tony Stark is the kind of man drawing people in like the flame draws in the moth.

He finally drops his arm, releasing your hand. You struggle to keep a straight face and not wince again. Hiding your pain, you take deep breaths when someone holds out his hand. Bucky, your bodyguard, helps you down the tribune.

Tony is already chatting up Steve to make sure he checks every spot at the orphanage. As if anyone would try to attack your husband while he shakes the hands of some kids.

“Mrs. Senator,” Bucky chuckles when you make a face at his nickname for you. “Do you want to take the same car?”

“Not today. Tony wants to discuss his campaign with Pepper,” you shrug. It’s not unusual for you and Tony to drive in separate cars. “I can use the break, to be honest.”

“You shoulder,” Bucky softly says. He carefully touches your shoulder. “I’ve got something in the trunk to help you with that. It helps me with the scar tissue at my shoulder, too.”

“Always prepared, aren’t you?” you flash Bucky the first genuine smile. “Let’s go, Dozer.”

“That name again,” he laughs as he guides you out of the back of the building. Tony prefers to use the front entrance to bathe in applause and to give autographs. You are, as always, only an accessory to him. He forgot about you the moment he left the town.

Inside the car, you sigh deeply. It’s the first time you can breathe today. You close your eyes and take deep breaths while Bucky rubs pain gel into your skin. He kneads out the knots and kinks in your shoulders and neck.

“Hmm…you’ve got magic hands, Dozer.”

“I only ran through a door once, Y/N,” Bucky chides. “If I remember right, it was because you screamed.”

“It was a huge spider, Bucky,” you giggle when he grunts. “You threatened to shoot it.”

“I did shoot it,” he corrects while gently rubbing your skin. “You applauded and got me ice cream.”

“You saved me that day.” You smile to yourself. “And many more times since then. Not with your gun, but because you’re always there for me.”

“That’s my job.” He says, making it sound so nonchalantly. As if he doesn’t risk his life to protect you every day.

“Hmm,” you nod. “I should call Tony. He wanted to tell me which outfit to wear for the kids.”

Bucky makes a face but doesn’t say a thing. He watches you button up your blouse and presses his lips into a thin line. Bucky would never tell you so, but he despises your husband and the way he treats you.

“Tons, hey,” you huff when Tony mutters into the phone. He wanted you to call him, only to tell you he must talk to Pepper first. “Fine, just call me if you’re done.”

You drop your phone onto the seat and sigh deeply. Bucky grabs the phone to end the call when you hear Pepper’s voice. Tony must’ve forgotten to turn off the loudspeaker.

“So, are you still as happy as you pretend you are?” She asks, making you frown. How dare that woman ask your husband this kind of question? “Tony, look at me.”

“I’m just trying to keep up the façade until past the election. We are over for months, if not a year,” he casually says while your world shatters. Your eyes widen, and you press your hand to your mouth when you choke out a sob.

Bucky wants to end the call, but you shake your head. You opened Pandora’s box, and now you want to hear everything.

“I heard you’re trying for a baby.” She presses on, making you wince when Tony tells her he never planned on having a baby. It would only distract him from his goal to become president one day. “How did you not get her pregnant if you’re trying for a baby?” She huffs.

“I talked her doctor into prescribing her birth control, but to tell her that it’s vitamins,” Tony reveals. All those months you believed it was your fault you could not get pregnant. Now you know why you didn’t get pregnant. Tony manipulated your plans out of selfishness.

Tears roll down your face when Bucky brings you into his arm to let you cry into his chest. You whimper and choke out a sob, hearing Tony talk casually about his betrayal. You know your marriage got rocky lately, but this is no reason to lie to you.

Bucky ends the call. He doesn’t want you to

“Do you want to go home?” He asks lowly. “Y/N? Where do you want to go? I hope you don’t plan on attending that shitshow.”

“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. “All I know is that I can’t go home. I can never go home again."

Tags in reblog.

347 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

11 months ago

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

Main Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1K notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

1 month ago

GRA (1) - Grumpy old man

Summary: You're roommates.

Pairing: TfatWs!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

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

Grumpy Roommate Adventures

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags in reblog.

245 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

5 months ago

Part of Your World - George Weasley

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

concept: What if the Potter story was set in the modern era and you were the girl George Weasley fell for after his departure from Hogwarts? How is a Muggle/Wizard relationship navigated in the thick of the Wizarding War against You-Know-Who, especially in this modern era of cell phones and social media? Is the Statute of Secrecy kept? How does George explain away not having access to technology or the internet? How are you protected from the Death Eaters who have all pledged to keep Muggle blood out of Pureblood families? Find out in this series of imagines driven by the story's plot that delve into these ideas and more!

A little bit of info on Reader in this story is that she is a theater major who does a lot of stage performance, specifically musicals! I know it's a bit niche, but it plays into the storyline nicely and gives some very good little tidbits of character dialogue here and there. I very much enjoyed crafting this little love story and I hope anyone who comes across it takes a little time out of their day to relax and enjoy the ride!

PS for the timeline of this I have simply moved everything forward 20 years, so instead of the story beginning in 1996 it starts in 2016 and goes from there. The timeline stays the same otherwise except the fact that it is in the more modern era.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

divider by @firefly-graphics

142 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

1 month ago

Princess!reader, who waited so long for her best friend, Sirius, to get back from war. She spent every night picturing him, how he'd look when he came home, if he'd still smell like the same boy she fell asleep against in the orchards..

She was so excited the day she got a letter from him. He was finally coming home. The war was over. He was victorious, and he couldn't wait to see her.

Only, when he came home, he wasn't alone. She didn't realise it at first. Sirius was all she could focus on, the way he swept her up in his arms, his muscles bigger than the last time she'd seen him. She didn't even register where he was taking her until he set her down on the bed.

Innocent and confused, she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak, to tell her all about his travels, the battles he fought.. but he didn't, and then she heard it.

The door closed, but sirius was already inside. When she glanced over, she nearly screamed. A tall, tan, scarred man stood by her door, with mousy brown hair and sword resting on his hip.

That's when sirius finally spoke. He glanced at the man before returning his attention to her.

"This is my friend. We fought together. You don't mind him being here, right?" He smiled, and her stomach flipped. She'd always loved the way he'd grin at her, too pure to notice how it's changed from the sweet, innocent smile he had as a child, to something darker, smirking down at her with something other than merely happiness.

She was nervous. She'd never been around a man like the one who stood by her door, but she trusted sirius. He'd never hurt her. He just spent a year in a foreign country fighting a war for her father, the king.

She couldn't help but feel a strange sensation in her tummy, though. She didn't know this man, even if sirius did. Her father had told her never to be alone with a man, that she always needed someone to supervise, but it was just sirius.. and his friend..

He was so big, and he had a look on his face that the Princess had never seen before. Sirius had gotten bigger, too. She felt how much stronger he'd gotten when he picked her up. His arms had nearly doubled in size, and his chest was firmer.. He wasn't just pretty anymore..

He was manly now, and it made her feel things, things she'd felt once or twice before, but never this strongly..

Part two?? (Pt.2 will contain smut if I write it!!)

232 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

1 year ago

Hellooooo!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..........

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

304 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

1 month ago

Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Summary: You're abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, character's death (unnamed alpha), werewolf au, transformation

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

The wind gently tugs at the white, silky dress you’re wearing for today’s ceremony. You are the chosen one this time. The last unbonded omega to be chosen by a mate.

You’re giddy and excited, but a little scared too. What if you do not like the alpha choosing you? What if he regrets his claim one day?

“Follow me,” the head alpha says, guiding you toward the clearing of bloom. The place where bonds are forged for eternity. A holy place, a sacred one. No one would dare to shed blood here in war.

You obediently follow the alpha, your leader, and the most trusted person in your pack. His words are the law. No one disagrees with him.

“You know the procedure, right? Your parents taught you well, or so I heard,” the leader talks more to himself than you. This is routine to him. A new omega every month. Faceless women, guided toward their fate.

“Yes, Alpha Prime,” you murmur, afraid to anger him if you speak louder. Some people told you that your voice is unpleasant, and that’s the last thing you want to reveal today.

“I like the dress you chose and that you’re not wearing too much make-up or perfume. The alphas will be pleased scenting your natural scent.” Your heart flutters at his praise. Maybe the ceremony of fate is nothing you have to fear after all.

All eyes are on you standing in the middle of the sacred flower field. Your heart beats out of your chest as the unmated alphas approach you.

“You all know the rules. You can scent but not touch her, alphas. Be respectful, or the moon goddess will punish you for breaking the rules.” Alpha Prime’s voice booms through the night. “We shall begin now!”

You hold your breath as the first alpha moves closer, stopping only inches from you. He sniffs in your direction, huffing before he steps away. No match, but you still hold your hopes high. There are more than fifteen alphas. One of them will choose you. You’re sure about it.

A gentle breeze touches your skin, tugging at your dress as more alphas step toward you. They line up, scenting you, looking you up and down, even circling you before every single one leaves without laying claim on you.

Your eyes water as only a few alphas are left. There must be something wrong with your scent, or you. How can every single one reject you?

You wring your hands as two alphas step closer. They sniff at you, waiting for a moment before shaking their heads in unison.

With each rejection, your heart sinks further, but you refuse to let despair consume you.

The last alpha steps forward. He takes his time, circling you slowly, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent. Hope flickers within you, but it dies as quickly as it bloomed when he too shakes his head and steps back.

Cold fear grips your heart. You know what this means. If no one chooses you as their mate, you cannot stay in the pack for longer.

“The alphas have spoken,” the leader says. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. You expected a hint of sadness or regret for what he’s about to do, but all you see is relief.

The strongest guards of the pack step forward; they grab you to wrap a rope around your wrists. It’s unnecessary. How could you fight a whole pack? Your fate has been decided. You’re going to do the walk and die in the dark woods no one dares to enter.

“Rules must be followed. Y/N, you will be permanently banned from our pack. You’re not allowed to come back. If you dare to step onto our territory, you’re going to die through my hands,” Alpha Prime declares, still no regret in his eyes.

The guards drag you away. You don’t fight them. Head hanging low, you try to not cry. You want to keep the rest of your dignity.

Alpha Prime is right. Rules must be followed.

The guards are silent while Alpha Prime and his brother whisper. You try to catch their conversation and frown as they talk about this year’s sacrifice. Your name falls from their lips, and you finally lift your head.

“The forest god will be all too happy with her. Her scent is pleasant,” Alpha Prime whispers. “It was a struggle for all the alphas to not choose her.”

Your heart drops. Deception. All the rules and ceremonies are an illusion. You’re a sacrifice to some god? How can this be? Does anyone else know about this?

The guards stop right at the border, parting your territory from the pack of the dark woods’ territory. They live further in the woods, but you won’t make it to their territory.

Whatever is lurking in the woods will get you first.

“Be honored.” Alpha Prime whispers in your ear. “We choose only the special ones to become the sacrifice. Every single alpha wanted to claim you, Y/N.”

His words mean nothing to you. The rules, the hierarchy, mating, alphas—nothing makes sense anymore. The betrayal cuts deep as they push you over the border. You stop to look over your shoulder, but the guards aim their guns at you.

“Go, make us proud,” Alpha Prime says. He lifts his hands to the moon, howling loudly as you set into motion.

You run faster than ever before. Maybe you can make it to the dark forest’s pack. Maybe they will take you in. Maybe you won’t die tonight.

Your lungs are burning. You’ve got blisters on the soles of your feet, but still try to keep on pushing forward. “Where to?” You ask yourself while hiding behind a large tree.

It’s pitch black, and you don’t know where you are going. You lost orientation and track of time shortly after you started to run.

“I can’t… I just can’t,” you sniffle and sink to your knees, hugging yourself. “It’s impossible to escape fate.”

“Fate?” A deep voice coming out of nowhere says. It sounds as if your mind is trying to mock you as it continues. “Your fine people send random girls to my woods once a year. This is not fate; this is illegal waste disposal.”

“We are not waste!” You rise to your feet again to yell into the darkness. “We didn’t know anything about this sacrifice shit. They lied to us,” you sniffle. “They lied…”

“Fate. Ceremonies. Nonsense!” The voice booms, making even the ground shake. Whatever or whoever is trying to make fun of you must be a very powerful being.

“Moon goddess?” You immediately sink to your knees and lower your head. “Forgive me my impertinence.”

“Get back up,” the voice chastises. “We don’t have time for this. In these woods, rogues have been sneaking around my territory for ages. You don’t want to encounter them.”

“Rogues?” You shriek as someone grabs your arms to force you back on your feet. He steps away to get a better look at you.

The dim moonlight offers a good view of the man.

You gasp as you face a tall alpha. His blue, piercing eyes are framed by a strong jawline and a neatly trimmed beard that accentuates his rugged good looks.

The way he stands, with his arms crossed and his expression brooding, tells you he’s a man used to being in control.

The dark blue shirt he wears clings to his broad shoulders and muscular frame, hinting at the strength that lies beneath.

“Who are you? You’re not the moon goddess…”

“Oh, you got that already?” He smirks as you look at him with angry eyes. “The moon goddess does not wander among mere humans. Not in these woods anyways.”

He is silent for a moment, dipping his head as he listens to the noises in the woods.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, afraid there’s more in these woods than the cocky alpha.

“We have to go.” He grabs your bound wrists and drags you with him, not giving you the chance to protest.

The alpha is fast. Faster than you as he runs through the woods, forcing you to keep up with him. “Omega, don’t give up. We don’t want to get eaten by the rogues.”

“Eaten?” You pant heavily when he finally stops in his tracks.

He sniffs left and right, eyes turning red as he scents some other alpha. Gritting his teeth, he growls low in his throat. He throws his head back, howling, making the ground shake once again.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave this one to me. If not, you can try to fight the dark king.”

“Dark king,” you whisper under your breath. Many stories about the dark king have been told to you and the others in your pack over the years. The elders called him a beast with red eyes and poisonous claws. A werewolf from the dark ages.

He dips his head, listening closely as you hear footsteps coming in your direction.

“They never learn,” he sighs deeply before turning his head toward you. “Step back, hide behind the tree, and don’t come out before I’m back to myself.”

You nod and run toward the tree, hiding behind it. You’re shaking in fear as you dig your fingertips into the bark of the tree.

“I guess this means you want to fight,” he laughs and cracks his neck loudly. The alpha rolls his shoulders and stretches his back.

While he takes off his shoes, pants, and shirt, the footsteps come even closer.

You shiver and press your body closer to the tree.

“Last warning,” he says. “I’ll let you live if you go now.”

You don’t know if he tries to trick the men or if he has lost his mind. He stands naked in front of three tall alphas, and all he does is howl.

“He’s going to end up dead,” you murmur to yourself. You can’t shift without the power of the moon and will end up dead too if you try to help him.

A deep, guttural growl rumbles in his chest. His eyes flash red again as his features begin to morph.

His jaw elongates into a muzzle, making you gasp. How can he shift without a full moon?

His fingers lengthen and sharpen into deadly claws as you watch the men stop in their tracks. They look as confused as you are.

As his transformation continues, thick, coarse fur spreads all over his body. His massive, muscular frame casts a shadow that sends shivers down your spine.

“He transformed without the moon!” The men gasp and whine while you’re too shocked to even blink as the largest wolf you have ever seen moves toward the rogues.

He jumps at them, killing their leader with one bite to their neck.

“These are my woods. No one hurts animals or people seeking shelter here. Leave and never come back.”

The wolf growls, making the other men run for their lives. He doesn’t follow them, though.

“How—” You step toward the wolf to get a closer look. Your hand reaches out to touch his fur, and he lets you. “Why can you shift without the full moon?”

The wolf turns around to sit in front of you. He’s an impressive sight. At least seven feet tall, the wolf looks down at your small, trembling form.

“The moon goddess blessed me,” he purrs before nuzzling the hand you’re still holding up. The huge wolf closes his eyes, enjoying your soft caresses. “We need to go. More of them will come.”

You watched him shift back, cheeks heating up as he put his clothes back on. He was, in any form, impressive and beautiful.

“You killed one, but not the others,” you whisper as he looks you all over for any sign of injuries. “Why?”

“He was the leader and killed one of the omegas they sent here last year. I came too late…” He shakes his head. “I must protect the innocent. I failed her. I won’t fail again.”

“Why did you let the others get away then?”

“They didn’t do anything,” he replies. “I only kill if it’s necessary. He was a monster; the others weren’t."

“I don’t even know your name,” you hold out your other hand. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know,” he says, smiling softly. “The moon goddess talked to me in my sleep. She sent you to me. I’m Ari, your alpha, your true mate. And you are going to become my queen…”

227 notes View Post

oneandonlybbygrl

1 month ago