stevecoregirly

[stevecoregirly]

Omg, this is like the best fic ever. I'm struggling to understand why I've never read this before and where was this hidden before?? I'm so in love with the way you write, it's captivating, haunting, and so so beautiful. The writing is just ughhhh amazing, I don't even have words to describe it.

As for the events in the fic, I literally think I almost died when reading. I haven't watched dune at all, but the way you write Feyd has got me creaming my pants and screaming with my fist in my mouth. Feyd is so well constructed, I'm not gonna shut up about it ever. He's dangerous, toxic and haunting yet you've also managed to convey his uhm charms. Some parts in this chapter got me squealing- like when they cuddle, the entire scene with Feyd touching her wound and the Harpie's dialogues about Feyd's feeling towards reader/oc. Just done wonderfully. But then scenes like Feyd and reader being jealous and many more had me gripping the sheets lol.

Plus the reader is so well written. It's so rare to see a reader that's both fearless, intelligent and more yet also conflicted inside. I absolutely love the dynamic between her and Feyd. This fic is literally my oxygen now. You write so so well that I felt like I was watching a film. Absolutely amazing.

And, the ending!! Omg! By the time I finished the fic, you best believe me I was out of breath with my hand over my mouth. Reader finally managed to kill Baron with the Harpies and honestly I love this development between the Harpies and reader. I'm so excited to see whether they'll conspire more together or perhaps a more negative change will happen, u never know 😯. Also I love the way the princess's sinister character was hinted when reader and Harpie's were talking, so brilliantly done. Also, so worried for reader, who knows what will happen to her now. But even worse, I'm going CRAZY thinking about Feyd and whether he'll be suspicious of her disappearance or think she left on her own or something. Istg, if this man doesn't come to her rescue, I'm rioting. And, if he comes to her rescue, not even God can save the people who kidnapped her lol. Can't wait for him to get all bloody again and kill some people and save reader 😍

For now this is it for the review. I'm so sorry if this is like extra long 😭Pretty sure the tenses and the grammar is all over the place in this review, but girl was I so excited to read this fic and just in love with it. I cannot wait to see how things workout and progress in the story, ughh I'm def in love lol. This review is literally me yapping and fangirling, so pls excuse the lack of coherence and stuff.

Right Hand IV

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: This is the first time you plan to do something completely behind Feyd's back. You must tread carefully with him to ensure that your plan is not exposed until it is fully implemented. However, you begin to have doubts about the role you want to play in Na-Baron Harkonnen's life… and you don't like it at all. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You return from the harpies as the sun begins to rise over Arrakis. It took you a little longer than you thought to come to terms with them, but to your surprise, they turned out to be very cooperative.

The first stage of your plan has begun. The easiest one. Now you have to deal with the next part of it.

You reach your bedroom and close the door quietly. You lean against it and sigh, allowing yourself to rest for a moment. Thoughts race through your head as you reconsider your plan.

Killing the baron and making it look like a Fremen kidnapping and execution would be child's play. It will be much worse to convince the emperor to protect his bloodline in the face of sudden tragic events. And what's a better solution to that than marrying his daughter to the new, young Baron of Giedi Prime?

Feyd would be, by this marriage, a sure successor to the emperor. He would also probably leave you alone and take care of his new wife. If you were lucky, he would make you governor of Arrakis.

A sharp knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. You almost fall over, being able to take only a few steps forward before the door almost flies off its hinges under the force of whoever opens it.

You take a deep breath, ready to scream at anyone who dared to invade your private space like that, but you freeze when you see Feyd-Rautha at your doorstep. Very pissed off, Feyd-Rautha. 

"Where the hell were you?" He asks in a cool, controlled tone of voice. It is surprising considering he has the blood of probably hundreds of people on himself.

"Well, I guess I should be the one asking you about it. It's not every day that you're dripping with so much blood. What happened? Instead of entering the disinfection chamber, you fell into the prison drainage system?" You scoff at him and turn your back to him, taking off your black robe.

You gasp as he reaches your side in a few quick steps and turns you to face him, his hand tightening around your throat as he is looking at your eyes. Surprisingly, his hand doesn't cut off your air; he just keeps it wrapped around your throat, pressing his fingers against your pulse point. You wonder if this is a warning for you or if he's checking to see if you are real.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" He speaks hoarsely, not raising his voice at you but demanding an answer to his question, completely ignoring your mockery of him.

"With your harpies. Someone had to feed them. Ask them if you don't believe me." You answer confidently. If he's surprised or thinks you're lying, he doesn't show it. His eyes move from your face to your torso, more specifically to the place where you were bleeding profusely a few hours ago.

You shiver as he slides his hand down your throat, through the valley between your breasts, and down your stomach. He gently lifts the fabric of your nightgown and reveals the bandage on your side. He stares at it for a while in complete silence.

Suddenly, he takes a step towards you, pressing his body against yours. You feel the blood from his armour slowly seep into the fabric of your nightgown, but that's not what makes you suddenly hold your breath.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, Na-Baron, an heir to Giedi Prime and Arrakis, a psychopath, probably a future emperor, a man hungry for pain, suffering, and blood, rests his forehead against yours and holds you tightly to him, cuddling you. You are afraid to take even the smallest breath. You just stare stupidly at the man in front of you. His eyes close as he inhales your scent and basks in your warmth.

"What happened with you? You weren't with me when I woke up.” You whisper, keeping your gaze on him, examining every last inch of his face as you try to read the reason for his strange, soft behaviour.

"Did you want me to be there?" He asks in a whisper, still not opening his eyes. His closeness overwhelms you. His tender treatment makes you feel more vulnerable than when he held a dagger against your neck.

But what terrifies you more than that is that you really wanted to see him waiting by your bed for you to wake up—just like in those hopeless romances hidden in Giedi Prime's library. But you knew too well that your life would never be like one of these love stories. More like textbooks about the history of their family—a very bloody story full of intrigue.

"I didn't care one bit. What worries me is that you clearly had fun without me. Whose blood are you staining my clothes with?" He sighs at your question. He reluctantly pulls away from you and looks at you carefully. He places his hand on your bare shoulder and plays with your hair, twisting it around his finger.

"Fremen's. As soon as the medic assured me that you were in stable condition, I joined the units that started chasing them. We caught three sandworms and people on them." He reports to you dispassionately, with no emotion in his eyes. For a moment, you think he might be exhausted from the events of the day, but ever since you became his right hand, you never remember him showing any signs of tiredness.

"I see." You say, swallowing. Lately, his proximity has been giving you a strange feeling. It's been like this ever since he ordered you to kneel in front of him. You feel a faint blush rising to your cheeks as you remember that day. He hasn't touched you since then. Something you weren't extremely happy about.

"The Reverend Mother asked about you. The one from the Corrino." He says this and moves away from you. He slowly starts to remove his bloody armor. You look away from him as he removes his breastplate, revealing his muscular, pale chest.

His partial nudity almost makes you ignore what he said. And it annoys you that suddenly staring at his fit, well-built body seems more interesting to you than listening to the important message he's telling you. After all, that was what you were afraid of—that the Bene Gesserit would start looking at you more closely.

"What exactly did she want?" You ask, directing your gaze to your black nightrobe. As you suspected, the blood from his clothes soaked yours. You wrinkle your nose, realising you'll have to change.

"Take you away from me. I clearly explained to her that this was not an option and never would be. You're mine. They gave you to me themselves." You hold your breath as he's a few inches away from you again. Only a black loincloth around his hips covered his... intimate parts. He reaches for your cheek, tracing your cheekbones with his thumb. He pulls you towards him, pressing his body against yours again.

"Technically you took me yourself. And I never gave in to you." You remind him, watching him closely as he wraps his other arm around your waist, making sure you don't run away from him. Your heart beats faster as his fingers slip under your nightgown and trace the edges of the bandage wrapped around your waist.

"Irrelevant details." He growls, tangling his hand in your hair. He pulls you closer to him, making you rest your chin on his shoulder as he buries his face in your hair. "What happened? After you used the voice. Why were you bleeding..."

"That's irrelevant. It worked. Atreides got scared, and we bought ourselves more time before his next attempt... to make a move against us." You interrupt him before he asks a question.

The story of this particular wound and your... incredible skills was something you promised not to reveal to anyone. It was the darkest memory of your past, one that haunted you more than your memories of Arrakis. It was selfish of you to forget about the poor people you had to kill to survive, but you had worked with Harkonnens for too long to be even ashamed of it. Everyone had to look after themselves. Only monsters equal to them survived among them. Apparently, you were one of them.

He interrupts your thoughts, moving away from you. His eyes burn with a vivid, burning anger that sends shivers down your spine. You lift your chin, enduring the stern look that he wanted to intimidate you with. He scowls even more when he sees that you don't take much notice of his silent admonishment.

"You almost died."

"You're exaggerating this. I thought you of all people won't be afraid of the sight of a little blood." You respond dismissively, which only makes his mood worse. In a few steps, he walks over to you and pins you against the wall behind you. His chest rubs against yours with each deep breath. But you are calm. Unlike you, he doesn't have daggers attached to his body... unless he has them under his loincloth...

"I simply don't enjoy holding your almost lifeless body in my arms. I much prefer it when your heart beats strongly against your chest... like now." He whispers hoarsely, his nose brushing against your cheekbone. His lips are dangerously close to yours; if he leaned a little closer to you, he could brush the corner of your lips with his. You sigh shakily, closing your eyes as you are trying your best to deny this strange, sick desire for him that suddenly rose in you.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all?"

Your question was met with silence and no response from him. And just when you think he's actually going to pull away from you, he grabs your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to himself. You sigh as his full lips descend on your neck. He sucks on your skin, licking it before his black teeth sink into you. You gasp, reflexively placing your hand on the back of his head. You know you can't pull him away; all you can do is place your hand on the back of his neck and dig your nails into his skin as he leaves his marks on your soft neck.

You gasp when he suddenly grabs your hips and lifts you up. His hardness rubs against your clothed core as he grinds his hips into yours. You bite your lip, holding back a small moan as you feel him so close. He breathes shakily against your neck, staying there for a moment. Never in your life have you seen Feyd-Rautha Harkonne refrain from taking what he wants. That's why you're shocked when he suddenly lets go of you and walks away, turning his back on you.

"It was a very long day and I believe there is an even longer one ahead of us. So shut up, lie nicely on the bed and wait for me. I'll come over in a moment and you better fucking be there because this time I'm gonna tear down this planet looking for you, are we clear?" He asks, turning around to look at you. You nod, swallowing thickly, with your cheeks still a little blushed and your heart beating madly fast. "Good girl." He mutters and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a loud bang.

You stare at the closed door for a good while. Only when the sound of water reaches your ears do you manage to snap out of this strange state.

You place a hand on your neck, tracing with your fingertips the spot his greedy lips marked. You shudder as you hear his soft grunts from the bathroom, knowing full well what... impressive problem he's dealing with there. You blush and run to change before he comes out of the bathroom.

Your head lay on the pillow just as the bathroom door opened. You try not to stare at him as he towels off. He throws the towel on the chair next to the desk and turns off the lights in the room. You sigh shakily, listening to his quiet footsteps around the room. He locks the door with a loud click. A cold chill runs through you, and your heart beats faster as you hear him approaching the bed.

You stiffen as you feel him sit down on the bed next to you. You hear him hide something under the pillow, probably one of his daggers, before laying down next to you.

His arm slips under the covers and wraps around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he takes on the role of a big spoon. You're pressed against his naked body; only a piece of the duvet and the fabric of your nightgown separate you two. You feel your heart speed up rapidly as you feel his toned chest muscles against your back.

"Is something wrong, little witch?" He asks mockingly, as if he didn't realise how uncomfortable you felt when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you while being fully naked. Only this time you felt a completely different kind of discomfort...

"You'll be cold, Na-Baron." You say, trying to convince him to get dressed. However, Na-Baron has completely different plans. If possible, he moves even closer to you, his length brushing against your ass as he leans close to your ear.

"You can always warm me up." You snort at his suggestion and say nothing more. His lips brush against your earlobe as he presses a feathery kiss there.

His grip on you tightens, and he rests his head just behind yours, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he inhales your scent. You feel like his private stuffed animal, favourite blanket, or other cuddly toy. But you know he didn't have the privilege of having such a thing—a normal childhood with toys and so on. Just like you.

So you delude yourself that this is the reason why you put your hand on his—the one with which he hugs you—and lean more on his chest. You were doing it only in search of the rare feeling of comfort that you are both unaccustomed to and that you both silently long for, however, your rational explanation doesn't include the reason why you feel the warmth rising in your chest when you hear his soft snores before you fall asleep.

It will be better this way. — You try to convince yourself as you watch Princess Irulan and Feyd dancing on the dance floor from the corner of the room. — You never wanted him. Sure, there were... some nice moments between you two, but that's all. It wasn't even a crush. Just a few irrelevant conversations and heated meetings—nothing that you haven't experienced before with someone else.

So why the hell did you want to pierce the heart of the emperor's daughter with your dagger?

A few days have passed since Atreides attacked. Harkonnen troops cleared the area and ensured that further celebrations of Na-Barone's birthday would proceed without further incident. Meanwhile, you watched as Irulan approached Feyd as well as how the Emperor and the Baron communicated about the possible marriage of these two. And although you were happy with this turn of events, it really bothered you to look at the blonde, who was obviously flirting with your Na-Baron.

You shouldn't care. Not at all. You should be happy that the burden imposed by the Bene Gesserit has been lifted from you and passed to someone else—that another woman has been assigned to carry their fucking powerful child. But you couldn't help the burning feeling of jealousy, anger, and regret when his eyes were on the emperor's daughter and not on you.

You shake your head at your stupidity and take the glass from a passing servant. You take a huge gulp and cough, unaccustomed to the burning sensation of the strong alcohol running down your throat. But you take another sip anyway. Fuck the patriarchy and the Bene Gesserit. You're not going to give birth to any Kwisatz Haderach, so you might as well ruin your liver with alcohol.

"I see you still don't absorb alcohol well, my sweet death. It's surprising, considering how many years you've been living among the Harkonnens." You freeze when you hear a familiar voice behind you. You put your glass down and turn around in shock.

"Fevas?" You ask, shocked to see a familiar man with dark hair standing in front of you. A smile forms on your face when you see his signature mischievous smirk and the twinkle of amusement in his night-dark eyes.

"The one and only. What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost." He says it, laughing, and walks over to you. He takes you into his arms without asking, trapping you in a tight embrace. You wrap your arms around him and let yourself breathe in his familiar scent for a moment.

"Aren't you one? You didn't come to haunt me for all the times I kicked your ass in front of your friends during training?" You ask with a cheeky smirk, moving away from him. He rolls his eyes at you dramatically and gives you a nudge in the side.

"No, but if I die first, know that it's the first thing I'll do as a ghost." You laugh, shaking your head. Looking at his wide smile, you realise that you haven't felt so carefree around someone in a long time. With the Harkonnens, you always had to keep your guard up, but with Fevas... it was natural to lower your barrier a bit.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm responsible for protecting the emperor and his daughter. Since our fateful trip to Arrakis with you, Harkonnens, and the Atreides, things have been quite... boring. It's the only exciting trip I've been on since then. And a few days ago... you were amazing. I even saw the baron staring at you in pure horror. You don't know how long I will remember this picture. My people almost shit themselves with fear when you controlled us all."

"You too?" You ask with a mischievous, teasing smile, completely ignoring your surroundings.

"I admired… but I was worried about you. I went to the hospital wing, but those bald idiots wouldn't let me in. Na-Baron's order or some other shit."

"Yeah… he can be quite a pain in the ass." You nod, shifting your gaze to Feyd. He danced with Irulan. You try to ignore the pang in your heart, and without thinking much, you reach for two glasses, handing one to Fevas. The two of you make a quick toast, and you're relieved to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol masking the unexpected bitterness you feel.

"Well, since he's busy... will you allow me the immense honour of having my toes trampled by you?" You look briefly at the harpies, considering his proposition. It wouldn't hurt anyone if you will have a one dance with your old friend, right?

One of the harpies nods at you while the other two stare daggers at Irulan. And in that very moment, you decide that you will not allow yourself to become another of Na-Baron's harpies. You'd rather die than become the other jealous woman.

"I am better dancer than I used to be. You can get very surprised." You respond flirtatiously, offering him your hand. You giggle, rolling your eyes as he leans down and plants a kiss on it.

"Really? Impossible. The last time you danced with me, I had to go to a medic to heal my poor, trampled toes."

"And yet you still want to dance with me..." You reply teasingly as he leads you to the dance floor. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you a little too close to him for comfort. But neither of you care.

You think it's nice to feel seen and desired. It was certainly better to have a charming man like Fevas than to prop up the walls at a party. Sometimes being in the shadows bothered you. And even though Fevas was... too lively for you, right now you wanted to break out of your comfort zone for a moment. You knew he was perfect for this.

You didn't realise that the blue eyes of a certain Harkonnen were piercing your companion with a hateful look, which especially intensified when Fevas wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and leaned towards you to whisper in your ear.

"Guilty. But I haven't seen you in so long that it doesn't seem like such a crime, does it? We did... much braver things in the darkness of our tents, remember, my sweet death?"

"In a blur... maybe I need a reminder?" You reply in an equally suggestive tone, licking your lips. Fevas's eyes drop to your lips. He chuckles throatily, pulling you even closer to him.

"Oh, you look like you really need one. Maybe even more..."

"Exchange." A familiar, hoarse voice reaches you. Before you know it, arms wrap around your waist and pull you away from Fevas. You gasp as Feyd pushes you onto his chest, holding you tightly against him. But he's not looking at you. His gaze is fixed on the man you were dancing with a few seconds ago.

"Who is it?" He asks coldly, assessing Fevas with his eyes. You see him staring at him dispassionately, but you know from the way he tightens his grip on you that Feyd isn't even close to being calm.

"I... It does not matter…" You stop as soon as his eyes meet yours. You swallow, seeing the pure, unbridled rage.

You hiss as his grip on your waist becomes painfully tight. Feyd frowns and loosens his grip on you a little, remembering how a few days ago you were bleeding out onto the floor in this same room. And in his arms. He ordered his servants to destroy the armour he was wearing at the time. And your dress. It's a pity he couldn't erase the memory from his mind in the same way.

"I think you've forgotten who I am to you, little witch. Say it."

"I… you are the Na-Baron." He hums dissatisfyingly, shaking his head at your response.

"Try again."

"Future Baron of Giedi Prime." Your answer was again unsatisfactory to him. You shiver as you feel him press the dagger against your chest, the tip of the blade playing with the strings holding the corseted bodice of your dress together. If he used a little bit of the dress, it would expose your breasts to his view.

"Don't play stupid, or I will punish you in front of everyone. And I wish that dirty, walking pile of muscles that had his hands on you didn't see me slapping your beautiful, little ass red. In fact, I'd rather be the only one enjoying this view, so be my good girl and tell me whose remains I'll throw to my harpies tonight?"

You hold your breath at his words. Feyd couldn't visit his harpies tonight. Not when they were supposed to be busy... getting rid of the baron's corpse. You think quickly, trying to find the best way out of the situation without condemning Fevas to a certain death. Feyd's intense, urgent gaze makes you blurt out words in an act of pure panic and thoughtlessness that you have probably never said to him before.

"No."

Your words are followed by silence from him. The chatter of the guests around you and the music make his reaction a little less terrifying, but you know him too well to think he'll take your refusal to follow his orders in stride.

"What?" He asks hoarsely, staring at you in shock.

"Nobody. He... he is nobody Leave him alone. He didn't do anything." You try to quickly correct your mistake, but one look into his eyes, and you know how screwed up you are. You gasp as he pulls you to a more secluded spot, shielding the two of you from any potential onlookers.

"Since when are you the one to judge what other people deserve and what they don't? Since when do you decide for me? Since when do you oppose me? Is this your lover? Did he have you? Tell me kindly, or I'll throw you on this floor and fuck you in front of everyone until you tell me." You're trembling, not because you're afraid he'll follow through on his words, but because you WANT him to claim you in front of everyone. In front of Irulan...

"What will your princess think of you?" You ask defiantly, raising your eyebrows. His nostrils flare as he sighs. He closes his eyes and tightens his grip on your waist and his dagger. You wait patiently for his reaction, ready for anything, even for him to stab you, piercing your stupid, rapidly beating heart.

"I don't fucking care. You're mine. Should I mark you? Carve my name on your chest? Maybe it would be better if I put my heir inside you? Then no one would have any doubts about who you belong to."

"Feyd..." His name leaves your mouth faster than you think. His heart beats faster when he hears you using his name instead of his title. The madness in his eyes slowly gives way to something else. A feeling you don't recognise. "Please. Leave him."

"Who is it?"

"Old friend. Nobody important." You assure him, desperately trying to convince him that it really wasn't someone he had to worry about.

"You slept with him?" The question catches you off guard. You blush slightly, knowing full well that you can't lie to him right now. You curse alcohol for reducing your ability to come up with lies and fake stories on command.

"I... It does not matter."

He growls, staring at you intensely, as he don't want to let go of the topic. You know that the moment you give him his name, your friend will die a tragic death. It bothers you, but you're much more worried about Feyd foiling your plan by going to his harpies tonight. You thought Irulan would distract him... enough for you to finish your job. As you can see, you had to take care of Na-Baron completely by yourself tonight.

So the moment Feyd turns to find the man you were dancing with in the crowd, you grab his hand and pull him back to you. Before he says a word, you lean forward to whisper suggestively in his ear:

"He can't compare to you." You brush your nose against his cheekbone. You smile teasingly as you hear him catch his breath at your sudden, unexpected closeness.

"No?" He asks, turning his head towards you. Your noses brush against each other, and his mouth is mere inches away from yours. You lick your lips unconsciously, completely by accident. However, this does not go unnoticed by him. His pupils dilate slightly, and his breathing quickens as he waits for your response.

"No." You whisper without looking into his eyes, too scared of what you might find there. He doesn't like that you're avoiding his gaze, so he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leans over you.

"Were you planning to run away with him? Fuck in one of those hallways?" He growls furiously, trying to intimidate you and overwhelm you with his closeness.

You swallow, carefully looking at him. Your hand wanders over his armour, moving to his neck and gently wrapping around it. You pull him closer to you, so you both can feel the others breath on your lips. You stroke the skin of his neck with the pad of your thumb, still holding it in your grip.

"I just... wanted your attention." You whisper, looking into his eyes. You feel the muscles in his throat tighten as he swallows, his pupils dilating to the point that you can see only them as he stares at you, completely surprised by your behaviour towards him.

To say Feyd is shocked is an understatement. He's dazed and confused to the point that all he can do is stand in front of you and let you do whatever you want with him. He should be used to you constantly surprising him, but even in his wildest fantasies, he didn't expect that you would be so eager to press your body against his to tease him in the same way he teased you. Feyd is not stupid. He knows your actions have a purpose—an ulterior motive that he honestly didn't care about as long as you had your hands and mouth on him.

"So what will you do now? Once you have it?" He asks, licking his lips as you look up at him through your eyelashes. His heart skips a beat when he sees your gaze linger on his plump lips for a moment. You both take deeper, shorter breaths, slowly closing the distance left between you.

"Come with me and see for yourself, Na-Baron." You whisper against his lips. Feyd growls at how cruelly you are teasing him. He had never wanted to pin someone against a wall and kiss them hard and deep as much as he wanted to do it with you now.

"You didn't answer the question. Who am I for you?" He asks, moving his hand from your neck to the hair at the nape of your neck. He pulls your head back and starts placing kisses on your jaw.

You tighten your grip around his neck and press him against the wall. Feyd blinks at you in surprise, but before he can say anything, you place a finger on his full lips and shush him. He trembles as you trace the bone of his jaw with your tongue, biting into it.

"My lord. My Na-Baron... my master." You whisper against his pale skin, effectively stripping Feyd of any little inhibitions or patience he had left for you.

You moan as his lips crash against yours. Your nails dig into his neck as he grabs the sides of your chest and pulls you onto the balcony. The metal door closes behind you with a loud bang. You gasp as you feel the cool, rough metal against the bare skin of your exposed back. This feeling quickly disappears under the sensations you feel thanks to the lips and tongue of your Na-Baron, who took advantage of your moment of surprise and sneaked into your mouth, exploring it eagerly.

You wrap your tongue around his, fighting him for dominance, moaning as he presses his body against yours. His hands deftly untie the strings of your dress at the back, loosening your corset. He pulls the fabric aside, moving his lips from yours to your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You groan, leaning your head against the door and digging your nails into the back of his head.

"Your princess is probably waiting for you." You mumble, closing your eyes as his tongue curls around your nipple. He sucks on it, biting it every now and then, making you squeal loudly as he cups his hand around your other breast and massages it, teasing your other nipple at the same time.

You're completely fucked under his touch—well, not so much that you don't remember how much fun the bastard was having with the princess just a few moments ago. You scream as he suddenly slaps your breast in a punishment.

"I only have one princess I want to please. And it's definitely not Lady Corrino." He says this before pressing his lips against yours. You moan as his hands tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head to give him better access to your mouth. You kiss him back with an equally burning passion, feeling the fire of desire ignite inside you with each of his touches.

"Lady? Since when have you been a gentleman?" You ask mockingly as he moves his mouth to your neck, nipping at it and littering it with hickeys.

“Would you prefer it if I called her a whore? Maybe I should really claim you right in front of her... Would that calm down your beautiful, burning jealousy, my little witch?” You growl at him, moving your hand to his hardening length and squeezing him painfully. He groans against your neck and bites into you in retaliation, making you let out a hollow scream.

"I'm not jealous. I can always go to Fevas for pleasure if you're too fascinated by the princess to notice anything else." You huff, not wanting to give him any satisfaction by letting him know that his closeness to Irulan bothers you. But why do you feel envy while watching them two together? That was your plan. He was supposed to finally leave you alone. So why is it that when the opportunity presents itself for him to become interested in someone else, you desperately cling to him and pull him towards you?

"Hm... so this is your mysterious man? Fevas..." You tense up when you hear him repeat your friend's name. You cup his cheeks in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Don't kill him." You ask him, knowing full well that he will refuse. But despite everything, you cling to this stupid hope, not knowing why you care so much about keeping Fevas alive.

"Why?"

"Because I ask you. Please." For the first time, you look at him desperately, knowing full well that all you can do is beg him to change his mind. Because if Feyd Rautha Harkonnen decides that someone is going to die, then even the Grim Reaper won't be able to save the poor man from him.

"Do you love him?" You know the answer to his question perfectly. However, it scares you too much to say out loud what you think and to admit to him and to yourself what you have been running away from for so many years. Apparently ineffective, since your first response was supposed to be:

No. I love you. And it's ruining my life.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, you weren't stupid or brave enough to say it to his face.

"I am a Bene Gesserit. I don't love anyone." You answer coldly and without emotion. He stares at you for a moment before pushing you away from him. He no longer looks you in the eyes, though his eyes are still glued to your half-naked form. He stays in silent reverie for a moment, then breaks it with a bitter, hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

"And I am a Harkonnen. We don't obey anyone." He growls impassively and pushes you away to get to the door. He returns to the party, closing the metal door behind him with a loud bang.

You shiver as you are left completely alone on the balcony. You try to swallow your humiliation and hurt pride and tie your dress to gain back some of your dignity. Once you've improved your appearance enough to show yourself to other people, you decide to leave to join Feyd's harpies in the dungeons. Along the way, you try to ignore how Feyd flirts recklessly with Princess Irulan.

It will be better this way.

You repeat it to yourself like a new mantra or slogan. Or at least that's how you try to drown out the cries of your wounded heart, which desperately begs your mind for a little mercy.

But if you learned anything from Feyd Rautha, it was that mercy was an overrated thing.

And if you've learned anything today... it was that you have truly become Feyd Rautha's fourth harpy.

If it wasn't a sign of weakness, you would have covered your nose to avoid inhaling the disgusting smell that lingered in the dungeons. You might have expected that the harpies would show no mercy to the baron. You weren't here to save him yourself. Just the opposite...

"The little witch looks angry…"

"The little witch was right, we are having a lot of fun."

"Does the little witch want to join?"

You give them a sadistic, proud smirk when you see the baron's condition. You shake your head and address them as sweetly as you can.

"Maybe in a moment. I don't want to take away all the fun from you. Can you leave us alone for a short while?" The women nod at you and slowly leave the room, keeping a close eye on the barely surviving baron. You wrinkle your nose as the door closes behind them. You take a few steps towards Harkonnen and stop right in front of the large pool of blood that has formed from all the wounds inflicted on him.

"So it's you… I thought my nephew was responsible for this. Ironic… get rid of me with one of my gifts to him."

"I think we both can agree that Feyd would be more than capable of it. After everything you did to him… I'm surprised he didn't try this ages ago." You reply indifferently, taking great satisfaction in seeing him like this—on the verge of death.

"You don't know our ways, witch. You may have studied and lived with us for years, observing from the shadows, but you know nothing about the Harkonnens." You tense up, offended, and angry at his words, but you do your best not to let it show. You came here to enjoy the death of the most disgusting man you have ever met. You won't let him spoil this solemn moment.

"Possible. But I know enough to convince the court and the great houses, and even the emperor himself, that the Fremen are behind your sudden, unfortunate death. Besides... I doubt anyone would cry over you."

"The same goes for you, witch. My nephew did well to make you his right hand. I'm sure he'll get rid of you as quickly and suddenly as he took you in. Harkonnens don't take wives. We have no equals. Whatever you think, you are living in pathetic delusion. You'll end up just like me. Or the boy will hand you over to these old women when he gets bored of you." A cold shiver runs down your spine at his words.

You had considered such a scenario several times, but the Baron and your interaction with Feyd today made you realise that you had to consider this turn of events to be... the most likely to happen. You guess you have to prepare for suddenly leaving Giedi Prime... and Feyd's side. Your heart clenches painfully just thinking about it.

"That's very possible. But at least I survived you." You answer and take out the dagger that you managed to steal from Fevas. You take aim and, with a small smirk, throw it, hitting the baron's throat. You were too disgusted to lay even a finger on him, in order to hurt him. You turn away and leave the room without giving him a second glance, knowing full well that Feyd's harpies will take the revange for anything he did to his nephew better than you. "Ladies! You can finish now." You announce this to the harpies as you leave the cell.

They scream excitedly and almost rush back towards the baron. You walk forward, but a sudden pull on your hands stops you. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the oldest concubine.

"The little witch shouldn't listen to this old man. The master likes the little witch very much. He threatened to kill us if we did anything to her." You frown at her sudden confession, but you don't question why she's doing it. You decide to brush it off.

"I think we both know that he... likes to break his favourite toys only by himself."

"But not a little witch. When the little witch was bleeding, the master became furious. The master almost killed his uncle when he ordered him to kill the little witch. The master watched over the little witch until the doctors said that the little witch would survive. And he told us to guard her door while he went away to kill the people who hurt her."

"I… I really appreciate you telling me this. Join your sisters. I'm sure you don't want to miss the feast."

"Little witch." She calls after you. You turn to look at her. "We can share the master with the little witch, but not with the princess." A smile creeps onto your face. Hearing that from her is the best compliment she can give.

"I'm afraid neither of us has any say in the matter."

"The little witch is smart. The little witch is too smart to think like that. The little witch has to know that the master is crazy about her from the begining." You blush at her words, your stupid heart speeds up, and your too vivid imagination presents you with various scenarios of what could have happened if Feyd... had claimed you at the very beginning. But you couldn't turn back time. You didn't want to.

"Desire makes us weak."

"Maybe. But it is also very pleasant." You smile and nod. She responds in kind and disappears behind the cell door. After the baron's scream, which is muffled by the door, you come to the conclusion that he is clearly saying goodbye to this world. Just as he should. Alone. At the hands of women whom he mentally destroyed to make them good pets, whose task was to arouse his nephew's cruelty and bloodlust.

While walking through the corridors, you come across one of the servants. He tells you that the Na-Baron requests your presence in his chambers. You frown, convinced that the last thing Feys wants to do today is to have you close to him, but you head towards the familiar rooms.

After a very short walk, you reach his chambers and open the door. You stand frozen in his doorway at the sight that greets you.

Fevas is chained. His hands are chained to the ceiling as he is hanging above the floor. His chest is cut multiple times, and his blood drips onto the white fabric placed beneath him. You tense up as Feyd's hands are on your shoulders, holding you firmly in place as you stare at the unconscious, bloody man who is either dead or within a whisker of death.

"What the hell is this?" You growl angrily, trying to turn to look at him. Feyd, however, holds your waist tightly and grips your jaw, making sure you keep your eyes on Fevas.

"I thought you'd appreciate seeing your secret lover after I brutally separated you. Where have you been? Looking for him? Maybe you were supposed to run away together, but he didn't come?"

"I leave you alone for a few minutes, and you start creating absurd stories and tormenting a poor, innocent man?" You mock him. His grip on your waist tightens as he gets more furious with every passing second.

"A man who had the privilege of enjoying what was not his." He corrects you, growling hoarsely into your ear.

"I'm not yours either. Will you kill Irulan's former lovers too?" You ask sarcastically, struggling against his grip. He growls in your ear, shaking you gently but keeping his grip on you firmly.

"I don't care about that royal bitch."

"You should. After all, she is your future wife. The mother of your heirs..." He doesn't let you finish. He tightens his grip on your throat, preventing you from speaking, and pushes you against the wall, pressing your body against his. You shudder as you see him gasp in rage, glaring daggers at you.

You tremble as you feel his fingers spread Frevas' blood on your neck. He breathes heavily, tightening his grip. He leans forward and presses a bruising, aggressive kiss on your lips. You know this is supposed to be a punishment for you, but you can't help but moan and clutch his arms as he kisses you so intensely, pulling all the oxygen out of your lungs.

You gasp, noticing a strange ache in your neck as his lips continue to caress yours, but you choose to ignore it. For a moment, you forget about anything other than him. Even the metallic smell of blood lingering in the room fades away with the feeling of his lips on you.

His other hand moves under your skirt, his fingertips gently caressing your thigh, avoiding the dagger attached there as his hand slowly climbs up your leg. You moan into his mouth as his fingers tease your pussy through the fabric of your wet underwear.

He breaks the kiss, kissing the line of your jaw. You breathe heavily, whimpering softly as he continues to work on your clit, peppering your face with kisses at the same time. You dig your fingers into his arms, desperately holding onto him as you grind against him, chasing the release he's denied you for days.

His fingers wander under your underwear, making you moan louder. Your forehead leans onto his shoulder as you gasp as he ruthlessly pushes his three thick fingers into you.

"My little witch is so quiet and obedient when full of fingers. I'm sure if I impaled you on my cock, if you had kept it deep inside you day and night, you wouldn't even dare to think about letting someone else take your place, right? Maybe that's what I should do? Maybe I need to breed you and fill your lower lips so that the other ones will shut up and stop talking nonsense?"

"Feyd..." A needy moan of his name escapes from you before you can bite your lip. All you can do is hold on to him for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist as he keeps you pinned to the wall and on his toes.

"You make such beautiful sounds... it's a pity you've been acting like a brat lately instead of like my good girl. You understand that, in this situation, I cannot reward you." He mocks you, pulling away from you moments before you reach your peak.

You growl at him angrily and reach out to finish what he didn't want, but he grabs your wrists and pins them to the wall, grinding his crotch against yours, teasing your desperate, abused pussy even more. You scream, trying to fight him. He effectively silences you, kissing you hard, chastisingly, and biting your lower lip until it bleeds. You are at his complete mercy. And dear Lord, you would let him do anything if that meant that he would let you cum.

He presses his body against yours and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. He leans down and licks the tears of frustration from your cheeks, sloppily licking your face at his discretion.

"Can you think for a moment or have I finally made you think with just your needy pussy? Is this what you want? For me to take another woman? For me to treat her the way I treat you? For me to leave you on this damn desert? Because I can, Y/N. I can fuck the other women, become emperor the easy way, and give you damn Arrakis, but you have to look me in the eyes and tell me that's what you really want."

You stare at him in shock as he continues to hold you close to him. This is what you wanted—exactly that scenario and turn of events. You could have been finally free—free from all of Bene Gesserit's prophecies and plans.

"I... You would let me stay here? Would you let me be the governor of Arrakis? You would marry Irulan?" You ask, disbelieving that he would ever let you go from his grasp, convinced that he would rather kill you than let you leave his side.

"If that's what you want."

"It... it is..." You say this, feeling a lump growing in your throat. Your heart beats insanely fast as you desperately try to convince everyone—you, him, and your stupid heart, which is begging you to change your mind—that this is exactly what you want.

But you had definitely come too far to slip into his arms at the end and become his wife, concubine, or whatever he wanted you to be, just because you were horny for him. Desire makes us weak. But was it just lust that connected you with him?

"No. Not like that. Look at me and tell me exactly what you want me to do, my little witch." He orders, looking at you defiantly. This is a very small payment for what he offers you. Your dream future is within your reach; all you need to do is say these few words.

"I... I want you to... to marry... I..." The lump in your throat grows. You can't say anything as you look into his icy blue eyes, which pick up on your uncertainty. But she's not the only one thing holding you back.

You physically can't speak. You can't lie to him and say you want him to marry another woman and forget about you, to leave you alone on Arrakis—a place that should have swallowed you up years ago. You just can't. Your eyes widen as you realise what he's done to you.

"You son of a bitch… Which Bene Gesserit witch gave you the truth serum?!" You ask, furious, realising what he injected into your neck during your little hot session.

"This is of little importance. I was going to use it on you and ask you about your secret lover, but he himself told me a bit about your past. With a bit of pressure from my side, of course. Now, before this miracle product stops working, look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me. I dare you. Reject me like you did countless times before, my little witch. And I will gladly leave you alone."

The smirk on his face grows with every second of your silence. Your blood boils, and you feel immense rage, pursing your lips as you glare at him with hate. What's more, the bastard has the nerve to laugh at you.

"That's exactly what I fucking thought." He growls and kisses you. His lips caress yours, tasting you as if you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. He holds you tightly as if you were the most precious thing in his possession that he is afraid to let go of, even for a moment, for fear of someone stealing you from him.

You place your hands on his shoulders and pull him closer to you, letting your lust for him take over all of your senses. There was no turning back. Not after he found out that you are not indifferent to him at all and that the future with him does not seem as scary and terrible to you as it was at the beginning.

"You had no right to treat him like that." You say this as he manoeuvres you around the room and past where Fevas is still hanging from the ceiling. He pushes you deeper into his chambers and closes his bedroom door behind you.

"As if you wouldn't do the same to the emperor's daughter, if you could…" He responds sarcastically, stripping off his armour and not wasting a moment, as if he were afraid you would change your mind and start fighting him again.

"Shut up." You use the voice on him with a cocky smirk. He lifts his head, staring at you in surprise. You step back, sitting on the bed, keeping your gaze on him the entire time. "On your knees." You order in a low, suggestive tone of voice, not hiding your smirk as he is forced to obey your command right away. "Come to me." You command him, your eyes glistening dangerously as you notice his length twitch beneath his loincloth. "Good boy." You say teasingly, stroking his head as he kneels between your legs.

"Are you aware of what kind of dangerous game you are playing right now, my little witch?"

"If I were still a full-fledged Bene Gesserit, I would probably put you to the gom-jabbar test of humanity right now. You put your hand in the box, and you feel unimaginable pain until you prove that your awareness is stronger than your instincts. I'm sure Irulan or another Bene Gesserit was assigned to do this to you. I barely managed to stop one of them from giving you... a drug that would make it easier for her to convince you to extend your bloodline through her womb. Back to the topic... we both know how this test would end for you, right? How quickly would you get horny? How quickly would you tremble for release? How quickly would you show me that you love it when I hurt you, my Na-Baron?"

"Don't torment me, witch. You've been doing this for too long." He growls, moving his hands to your legs and pushing the fabric of your dress higher as he exposes your legs to him.

"You're right… why put your hand in a box when it can be useful elsewhere? Undress me." He laughs hoarsely, having no choice but to obey your command.

"You don't have to use the voice on me to make me follow this kind of orders."

"I thought the Harkonnens did not obey anyone?" You ask defiantly, raising an eyebrow at him as he licks his lips, carefully examining every inch of your (finally) exposed skin.

"I thought the Bene Gesserit didn't love anyone?"

You did not answer. You lean down, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and kiss him passionately, finally allowing yourself to express all the feelings and desires you had been hiding deep inside for so long.

"I need to feel you." He growls, pushing you onto your back. He climbs up you, placing kisses all over your body until he's hovering just above your face. He stares at you for a moment, spreads out beneath him, ready to finally take him in, and decides that his fantasies are a poor comparison to the real thing.

You both moan, resting your foreheads against each other as his pre-cum, leaking hard length, rubs against your wet entrance. You wrap your legs around his hips. You run your hand down his spine, sinking your nails into his neck as he abuses yours, kissing, nipping, and marking it as his property.

And when he is finally about to unite you and get rid of the tension between you for good, someone knocks on his door. He groans in protest and leans in to kiss you to shush you when you let out an uncontrollable laugh at his reaction to the sudden interruption.

"You should go." You say as you manage to place your hand on his chest and gently push him away from you. "This could be something important."

"Woman… how much patience I spent on you…" He growls, pressing his forehead against your temple. The knocking on the door is more insistent. His brother calls out to him furiously, and you can't help but smile as you watch his internal struggle.

Seeing your amusement, he spanks your pussy. You scream, trying to block out the sound against his shoulder so that only Feyd can hear it and not his brother, who is banging on the door. He chuckles, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent.

"Stay here. Don't move an inch. I will be right back. If I don't find you in this bed naked and ready for me, I will beat that ass of yours red. You won't be able to leave these chambers for a month." He gives you a threatening warning. You roll your eyes and pull him into a kiss, teasing him and pulling away from him in a moment when he wanted to deepen it.

"I'll be waiting." You promise, out of breath after the kiss. "On the way, tell your servants to take Fevas to the infirmary."

"Next time I will kill him without hesitation. Or any other lover of yours."He promises as he puts on his clothes. You crawl to the edge of the bed and help him put his armour on faster.

"I am very aware of this, my Na-Baron." You reply snidely, still kneeling on the bed and dressing him. He rolls his eyes at you and smirks mischievously as he reaches up to pinch your nipples. You squeal, punching his shoulder. He laughs and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for one last kiss.

"I'll be back in a minute." He promises and leaves, making sure to close the door behind him quickly enough so that no one has a chance to look inside and see you naked in his bed. After all, this was a view reserved only for him.

You fall onto the bed, giggling stupidly like a teenager, as you wonder what his reaction will be to having the opportunity to fuck you as the Baron of Giedi Prime.

A cold chill runs through you as you hear footsteps in the main room. You downplay it, thinking that it was the servants who came to clean up the mess Feyd made, but too much silence starts to make you suspicious. You stand up and put on some clothes before reaching for the knife attached to your thigh.

You open the door and slowly leave the room. Fevas was gone, but something was still bothering you, giving you a strange feeling of being observed. You could feel someone's presence on your back.

You avoid a sudden attack from behind and quickly cut your attacker's throat. Before you can turn around, you receive a powerful kick in the back. You stumble and fall forward, but quickly get back up, taking in your surroundings. Three women dressed entirely in black slowly surround you, each of them armed to the teeth. You tense up, ready to use the voice, but just as you're about to, you're grabbed from behind.

You only manage to stab your attacker before a cloth is placed against your nose. You struggle, trying to fight the women as hard as you can before the sedative takes effect. After a few moments, however, darkness enveloped you. But before you lose consciousness completely, you notice the familiar Bene Gesserit symbol tattooed on the women's wrists.

What catches your eye most before you hit the floor is the familiar skirt of Princess Irulan's dress.

To be continued...

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt

#NO ONE TALK TO ME FOR A WEEK AT LEAST I NEED TO RECOVER FROM THIS FIC. #UGHH STILL REELING FROM HOW GOOD AND DRAMATIC AND SUSPENSEFUL OF A RIDE THIS WAS #fic review #fic recs

[stevecoregirly]

For the record, this kind of “engagement” is a good way to get blocked 🙅🏻‍♀️

There is no quicker way to burst the bubble that is my writing inspiration. How about sharing why you enjoyed the story? A favorite bit that stood out to you? Maybe questions or musings it left you with? What you hope to see next?

Anything except demanding entitlement aimed at someone who provides FREE content simply for their own joy and in their spare time 😒

[stevecoregirly]

[stevecoregirly]

UGHHH I LOVE THIS. I am a sucker for angst

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

[stevecoregirly]

Pogue Gone Rogue • pt. I

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

➸ summary: following a nasty divorce with Big John, your mother moved you to Figure 8, separating you from your step-brother and his group of misfits. 5 years later you’ve integrated into the kook life, but what happens when your estranged brother tries to bring you back to the pogue ways?

➸ warnings/notes: best friend’s brother trope, rafe isn’t a psycho in this (sort of), heavy daddy issues from both reader and rafe, secret relationship, some strays from canon, eventual smut (18+)

A/N: i am NOT a ward apologist, but i had to glaze the guy for the sake of the story ok i'm sorry

word count: 2.8k

————————

THE TRANSITION FROM Pogue to Kook was rough and daunting at first. You had lived on the Cut for as long as you could remember. Even though you were born in Kook territory, you were fully raised on Pogue turf. You never thought that you would live a life outside of it.

Now as you stood in front of your vanity, pearl necklace dangling from your neck, you couldn't imagine life any other way.

Figure 8 has been your home for 5 long years now. It was where you graduated, where you had your first boyfriend and your first job - it was where you met your best friend. Sarah Cameron.

When you were first whisked away from home, you were 15. John B, JJ, and Pope were your best friends; until they weren't. Time passed and they eventually forgot about you, saying that you were long lost to the 'Kook ways' and you were soon replaced by Kie. This was a fact that Sarah did not take lightly.

She had raved on and on about how much she hated Kiara, about how John B should've stuck by you as your step-brother. She was the first person to truly understand you and have your back.

Grabbing the duffle bag on your bed, you began to make your way downstairs.

Your mother was out of town on business and Sarah had offered you to come over to her house for a few days. It was an ongoing tradition of yours. When you had the house to yourself she always insisted that you shouldn't have to stay home alone. In recent years, since you were both adults, you tried getting her to sleep over in yours instead, but Ward wouldn't be caught dead letting his 'baby' leave the house for days on end.

So agreeing with his compromise of allowing you to live with Sarah whenever you wanted, you decided to buy him a bottle of whiskey as a token of gratitude.

The only issue you ever had at the Cameron's estate was Rafe.

It wasn't the same issue everybody else had with him. In fact it was quite the opposite. You see, your frequent visits to Tannyhill had caused you and him to form a sort of… friendship. If you could call it that.

Occasionally when Sarah would go on dates with Topper, Rafe would bring you outside for a drink or two and a chat. He would claim that he felt bad that Sarah 'left you' for her boyfriend. You couldn't complain. Rafe was cute. He was nice when he wanted to be (or had to be), and he was never rude with you. Well, never intentionally. Sometimes he just had a certain sour attitude about him - but that was just how he was.

"Honey, I'm home!" you called out into the vast mansion.

Ward had given you a key to the house months ago saying that if anything were to ever happen, you would come to them. Whatever that meant. You figured he was just looking out for you as Sarah's friend.

A squeal sounded around the white walls as your friend came running towards you, her little sandals clacking across the floor. She scooped you up into a hug, rocking you from side to side.

"Okay, okay!" you giggled. "Don't hug me too hard or I'll drop your dad's gift."

"Oh you didn't have to," she said as she grabbed the fancy bottle from your hands.

Ward always had a soft spot for you, something Rafe never failed to mention and grumble about. He was kind of like a father-figure to you. Your own dad was never too present in your life. Despite his immense love for your mother and step-brother, it felt like you were constantly cast aside, which is probably why your mother left his sorry ass.

"Here she is. Kook princess number two." Rafe.

Your heart sputtered as you turned to face him. Damn, he looked good.

Sarah rolled her eyes. She never liked encouraging his stupid nicknames for you. After all, Rafe was a player and she didn't want you falling for his stupid tricks.

"Well if it isn't the Kook prince himself," you replied back. Rafe scoffed as he came up to Sarah to examine the bottle that she took from you.

"This is a good brand. Nice choice, princess."

If you weren't in the presence of his sister you probably would've passed out at the mere tone of voice he used. How was it that he was always so effortlessly hot? Sometimes it felt like he was deliberately trying to make you flustered. You pushed the thought from your mind. He was only being friendly - he had to be, you were always at his house.

"Stop flirting with my friend," Sarah said as she dragged you by the hand to bring you upstairs. "Perv," she mumbled under her breath which earned a laugh from you.

"He was just being nice."

Continuing up the stairs, Sarah turned her head behind to look at you. "Rafe is never just being nice."

IT WAS NIGHTFALL now and you were getting dressed for a kegger that was being thrown at the beach. You were never really one for big parties but Sarah was excited to go, so you agreed.

You were glad you decided to bring your makeup with you as you stood in the bathroom with your various brushes and powders.

"Hey, babe," said Sarah as she patted your waist while walking past you. "I'm so sorry to ask you but can you use Rafe's bathroom?"

This wasn't new to you. Rafe would let you use his mirror and shower when this one was occupied, but for some reason you would get nervous each time. Knowing he was only a few meters away from you always sent chills down your spine.

"Sarah," you groaned.

"I'm sorry but I need to use the shower!"

You gave in, sighing and nodding. This was her bathroom after all. Collecting all your things, you made your way down the hall to her brother's room. The door opened after one knock and you presumed he already knew why you were there.

"Got kicked out again?" Rafe asked as he moved to let you in. You only hummed in response as you made your way through his room swiftly. His room was almost as familiar as Sarah's considering you were in here at least one out of every two visits to their house.

Rafe let out a chuckle. "Sure, make yourself at home," he said once he saw you tumbling the contents of your makeup bag onto the sink counter.

"Don't you have to get ready? Stop bugging me, Cameron."

"I am ready, Routledge," he snarked back.

Your back straightened at the name. "Don't call me that."

Rafe put his hands up in defense, walking into the bathroom to grab his comb. He never really knew what happened between you and your brother and he never asked (because he knew better than to dig into people's family problems). Moving to stand behind you, he brushed his hair out, his eyes following your movements as you applied your mascara.

"Do you really have to do that here?"

Rafe rolled his eyes with a smile. "You're in my bathroom. You don't get to tell me what to do."

"I'm not telling you anything, I'm asking a question," you said. This was how your conversations always went. He would say something sarcastic and you would quip with something similar. It was like you two bounced off of each other's behaviors.

"Maybe I just like watching you."

Pulling out your lip-gloss, you snorted. He always found a way to jokingly flirt with you no matter the situation. Sarah thought it was annoying, but you? You secretly liked it. It was times like these where you could pretend that he wasn't your best friend's brother, but perhaps something more.

That would never happen though. It was hopeless to wish for it.

"Well, when you decide to stop being creepy can you please grab my shoes from downstairs?"

"And now you're bossing me around," Rafe muttered as he leaned down behind you to place his comb on the sink in front of you. You could smell his woody cologne as his back pressed against your shoulder ever so slightly. It was like he knew how to drive you crazy.

By the time he returned, you were already changed into your outfit. Sarah convinced you to wear a mini-dress. She raved on and on about how it was too warm for jeans and you just had to wear it.

"Maybe you can even catch a few guys' eyes," she had said with a wink. Little did she know that the only eyes you wanted to catch were her brother's.

Rafe paused when he walked back into his bathroom. There you were in all your glory, your hands ruffling up your perfectly curled hair. He mentally thanked Sarah for making you wear the dress. You looked stunning - and he chastised himself for even thinking it. You were his sister's best friend, he shouldn't be saying things like that.

"You're gonna wear that?" Rafe teased as he clutched your sneakers in his hand.

"And you're gonna wear that?" you mimicked, eyeing his plain button up and slacks.

Shoving past him, you grabbed the shoes and went to sit on his bed. The mattress bounced as you made yourself comfortable. Rafe's bed was unusually high and you struggled to tie the laces as you leaned down. Your short dress was not practical enough for this.

"This is pathetic to watch. Let me."

Walking to you, he kneeled on the floor in front of his bed, patting his knee. "Here, lift your leg."

The visual of him on his knees before you made your breath stutter. Not-so innocent images playing in your mind as you placed your foot on his thigh. His breath tickled the inside of your ankle.

You prayed to everything that he would do this fast because you weren't sure how much you could handle. Warmth spread throughout your body as Rafe took the other leg in his hand and put your foot on his knee, his fingers moving nimbly to tie this shoe as well.

Skin buzzing at the ghost of his touch, you quickly stood up and marched to the bathroom. You cleaned your items up at the speed of light and vacated his room, throwing a 'thanks' over your shoulder as you left.

By the time you three arrived to the party it was already in full swing.

Sarah skipped over to her boyfriend, encasing him in an embrace. You jokingly grimaced and gave Rafe a look. You liked teasing Sarah about how touchy she was with Topper but, really, you thought they were cute.

"Drink?" he asked.

You nodded. "Drink."

Both walking to the drink stand, you grabbed a bottle of beer and Rafe did the same. You guys were not too fond of the drink - you found this out during one of your late night chat sessions after Sarah snuck out to meet Topper - but the situation called for some sort of inebriation. I mean, it was a party.

"Out of everybody here, who would have the highest chance of taking you home tonight?" Rafe asked, completely shocking you.

You took a swig of the beverage you held before pondering. Realistically the answer would be Rafe, but you couldn't exactly admit that.

Making a face at the taste of the alcohol, you shook your head. "God, none of them."

The man side-eyed you, raising an eyebrow. "No one at all?" he asked, his voice lowering as he moved closer to you by a bare inch.

Swallowing down the spit that had formed in your mouth, you shrugged. You couldn't even look at him for fear that you would say something you regretted. Every time you were alone with Rafe it felt like everything inside of you was on fire. Half the time you weren't sure if he saw you as just one of Sarah's friends or if he actually liked talking to you. He was just so difficult to figure out.

The feeling of someone's breath on your ear awoke you from your thoughts. Rafe was leaning down to your level, his eyes boring into you.

"Because I know who I'd wanna take home," he moved a piece of hair from your face as you craned your neck to face him. Holy shit. This was not real -

A loud yell interrupted the moment, both you and Rafe jumping at the intrusion. People were screaming in the distance, some sort of commotion happening near the shore.

You were first to move, leaving your drink as you neared the altercation. Upon closer inspection you recognized John B and JJ. What where they doing here?

However you barely had time to wonder anything else as you witnessed Topper throw a punch directly to your brother's face, causing him to tumble down into the water. You ran up to your friend, holding onto her arm.

"Sarah, what happened?"

She was practically hyper-ventilating at this point, holding her chest. "I- I don't know. They just got here and Topper, he-"

The rest of her words were jumbled and incomprehensible. The only thing you could do was rub her back in comfort. Looking around you noticed Kiara and Pope were also there, a worried look on their faces.

"Hey!" you directed it to the duo standing in the sand, "what the fuck is going on?"

Kiara opened her mouth to speak, but she quickly stopped once she noticed something happening in the water.

Turning your head to see what she was staring at, you gasped. Topper was shoving your brother's head under the ocean, his eyes glazed over with a certain fury that you had never seen before.

You ran up, not caring that your shoes were now full of saltwater. "Topper, stop!"

He only pushed you in reply, your ass hitting the sand harshly. Before you could do anything else JJ appeared, a soft click sounding through the air. Suddenly Topper tensed, his eyes locking onto yours in fear. Of course JJ had a fucking gun.

Faintly hearing people scramble away, you stood up to your feet, ignoring the fact that Sarah and Rafe were screaming at you to get out of the water.

"JJ!" you shouted, "stop it."

Sarah ran towards the water, her dress whirling in the wind. You paid no mind to her as you watched Topper let go of John B. Wading towards your brother, you helped him stand up, his breath heavy and his eyelids drooping. Rafe stood next to his sister as he looked at you in concern, making sure no one pulled anything else.

A gunshot rang through the air and you flinched. "Hey, sis," coughed out John B, water shooting out from his nose and mouth. You fought the urge to slap him.

"Don't 'hey sis' me," you grumbled as you dragged him to shore. You knew you would have to evacuate soon enough. The gunshot had to have alerted any nearby cops, and you did not want to be here when they arrived. Dropping John B onto the sand, you walked past him.

Grabbing JJ's gun, you threw in onto the floor. “The fuck is wrong with you? Are you stupid?"

He made a mix between a scowl and a sneer as he turned away from you. Picking the gun back up, he went to help John B.

"She's right, JJ," said Pope. He was always the one with his head on his shoulders. "You shouldn't be waving a gun around. Especially not around here."

His friend ignored him.

"I came to see you," John B's voice came. "Dad's gone."

You whipped your head around. So much was happening all at once, and you didn't know how to handle it. Rafe was at the far end of the beach, scolding Topper while Sarah tried to calm him down, presumably pleading with her brother to let go of her boyfriend's collar. Kiara and JJ were holding John B up while he regained his strength. And you - well you were trying to figure out what your brother's statement even meant.

"He's dead?" you asked.

"No. He's missing. He's been missing for months."

You widened your eyes in disbelief. "And you're only telling me now?"

Pope gave you a sympathetic look but you turned away. You didn't want to deal with any pity right now. How could they keep this from you for so long? Sure, you never had a great relationship with your father, but you had the right to know this information sooner rather than later.

"Dude, you are unbelievable," you muttered before completely turning around and making your way off the beach.

It was safe to say that the car ride back to Tannyhill was painfully awkward that night.

#im in love with this

[stevecoregirly]

I'm supposed to be fixing and updating and writing but I got distracted with a thought. Mob Bucky and his honeybee. His soft, sweeter than sugar, soft like the clouds, too precious for this planet earth, honeybee.

His honeybee who others don't take seriously because she's too quiet to do anything.

His honeybee who other women couldn't care less about because there's no way she actually satisfies him.

His honeybee who sinks her teeth into his neck after she hears Sharon talk about the way she'd ride him if given the chance. He's been in gang wars that haven't left bruises this dark.

His honeybee who doesn't let him leave the room until she's milked him dry, keeping his cock and balls soft and empty, all of his cum stuffed right where in belongs, dripping between her legs.

His honeybee who is the most possessive, jealous, feral, needy little thing on the planet.

I'll elaborate on this at some point. The day Bucky learns his pretty baby is more possessive than he is. The day he learns what his honeybee's mouth can really do. The day he learns what mine means.

Just a Bucky and his honeybee.

#HELP I LOVE THIS #need more pls

[stevecoregirly]

I AM SPEECHLESS RIGHT NOW. FUCK NO THIS IS KILLING ME.

jealousy & flirtation

EIGHT: YOU'RE ONLY PLAYING DRESS-UP

18+

Thor, Steve, Yelena, and Wanda continue learning the truth about Wren's quick exit. Meanwhile, Juniper decides enough is enough and it's time to take you out of Bucky's life forever.

Content Warning: Frat!Bucky x F!Reader, mature themes, mention of self harm/violence/injury, mention of murder, angst, blackmail.

Series Masterlist

"I'm sorry - you said yes?" Wanda asks Wren incredulously. "After everything his best friend put you through, you said yes?"

Wren shrugs. "I guess I thought we'd elope and leave the world behind," She says, laughing dryly at her naivety. "I'm not claiming to have been smart back then. He was all I cared about, and I'd have put up with ten Junipers for him."

"Damn, his dick must be amazing," Yelena mutters, in disbelief that Bucky could be worth the hassle.

"It's pretty good," Wanda confirms, to which everyone frowns at her. "What? After Steve, I wanted to make double sure that I was a lesbian and not just disgusted by him. Turned out I am a lesbian, but Bucky's a little less disgusting."

"Mean," Steve says with narrow eyes. "My dick's just as good as his."

"Anyway," Thor interjects pointedly. "How did the fight start between you and Juniper?"

"Bucky proposed," Wren repeats. "No ring or anything. He was just being dramatic and romantic. The cunt watched the whole thing. I'm surprised she didn't just waltz over and push me off the boat - but like I said, she's smart. She waited until Bucky had gone to the bar or bathroom or somewhere that wasn't with me, and then approached me. She said one of my friends was vomiting in one of the cabins, so I followed her. Little did I know she had overheard my plans to run away to Vegas with Bucky and get married by a shitty Elvis impersonator."

"Romantic," Steve mutters dryly.

"Mhm," Wren says with a snort. "She took me out to the top of the yacht where nobody else was. The same spot he proposed. Immediately blew up at me. She said I was stealing him from her, that I didn't deserve him, that he was hers and he'd never leave her."

"Did she push you off the boat?" Yelena asks, shock in her eyes.

"I wish," Wren says flatly. "I'd had enough, so I fought back. Told her she was crazy and that if Bucky wanted her, he'd be dating her. I guess I struck a nerve. She had a knife on her."

"What?" Wanda gasps, not expecting those words to leave Wren's mouth. "She fucking stabbed you?"

"Worse," Wren says darkly. "She stabbed herself."

Making up for lost time with Bucky, you took him back to your place after painting and screwed him three more times for good measure.

"I'm starving," He grumbles from where he's lying on top of you.

"Go make us some food, then," You reply weakly, your voice muffled against the pillow.

Slowly, he peels his sweaty body away from yours and lies on his back next to you. "How about you go make me a sandwich, woman?" He utters, smirking when you slap his stomach.

"For that, you can order us food," You say sternly. "I want Chinese."

While you shower, Bucky sits on the toilet.

"Don't forget the egg rolls," You remind him as steam fills the air.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, it's on it's way," He says before pulling the shower curtain back.

"Can I help you?" You ask while rubbing soap over your body.

It looks as though he plans to make a sly comment, but when he sees your tits covered in suds, his eyes darken and his mouth runs dry. You immediately recognize the look on his face.

"Again?" You ask as his dick hardens.

He nods. "Again."

After a steamy shower and yet another round of dangerous, slippery sex, you both lie on your fresh bed sheets. You're in your purple dressing gown, and he's stretching out your pink one, the two of you snuggling together while a shitty movie plays on the TV. Empty Chinese food cartons sit in a pile on the floor.

"Ah, shit, I forgot about that," Bucky mutters to himself while looking down at his phone.

"What is it?" You ask, looking over.

"I've mentioned the annual Cabo trip that Juniper plans, right?" He asks you.

"The one her parents go on, too?" You question.

"That's the one," He confirms. "They've been going since she was born, and I started tagging along when we were teenagers. When we came to college, she invited all our friends, too. She just texted me about it; it's in a month. Straight after finals."

"Shit, really?" You turn to him with a frown.

"I couldn't go last year and she almost killed me. I had an internship I couldn't turn down," He explains. "So, she's extra sensitive about it this year. Can't miss it."

"So, I won't see you all summer?" You wonder.

"We'll only be there a couple of weeks," He says, before looking down at you. "Come with us."

Taken aback, you raise a brow. Juniper would most definitely not be happy about you infiltrating their annual trip - but maybe that's exactly what she deserves.

"Okay," You agree with a smile.

"Yeah? You'll come?" Bucky asks, pleasantly surprised.

"Of course. Spending two weeks in Cabo with Bucky Barnes?" You lean in closer, giving him a soft kiss. "I can't think of anything better."

He kisses you again, smiling against your lips. "It's great up there," He tells you. "We'll have a lot of fun."

"I'm sure we will," You reply before curiosity gets the best of you. "So, you and Juniper have been best friends for, like, ever, right?"

Bucky nods while tugging on a loose string on your dressing gown. "Since we were six years old," He tells you.

"I'm all for men and women being able to be friends without there being feelings involved," You preface carefully. "But has there ever been anything between you? More than friends, I mean?"

Surprised by your question, Bucky lets out a laugh. "No. Never," Is his firm answer. "Our parents were always rooting for us to get together, but we never did."

"How come?" You wonder. "I mean, she's pretty hot, and you're alright. You're telling me you never crushed on her? You were never attracted to her?"

"Flora, I've known her since we were babies," He reminds you. "We grew up together. Went through every part of life together - she's practically my sister."

Though his words make you happy, you do well to keep that off your face. "Right," You mumble.

"She's a beautiful girl, I'm not saying she isn't," Bucky says, resting his hand on your leg. "I love her. But I've never looked at her in that way. I couldn't."

You hum, fiddling with his fingers. "And she's never had a crush on you?" You ask.

Your question makes him laugh heartily. "Of course not," He says. "She sees me like a brother. It would be way too weird for anything like that. Why are you asking, anyway?"

Shrugging, you wrap your arms around him. "Just curious, is all," You tell him. "Neither of you are exactly known for dating other people. The past few years at college, it's almost like you guys have been dating each other. You know, without the kissing."

His nose crinkles at your revelation. "Is that really what people think?" He asks with a frown. "I guess we spend a lot of time together, but it's not like that. I've dated other girls... granted, Juniper's not exactly the kind to date, but that isn't because of me."

Oh, it most definitely is.

"Fair enough," You say, smiling up at him.

He smiles back down at you, cupping your face in his hands. "Anyway, enough about me - why don't you tell me about yourself?" He asks. "Did you have a lot of boyfriends in high school?"

You snort, shaking your head. "Absolutely not," You tell him. "I know I'm dream girl material now, but I was a late bloomer."

With a grin, Bucky squeezes your hip. "I bet I'd have liked you," He theorizes. "What were you like?"

High school - and your childhood in general - wasn't the best time for you, so while Bucky's hoping for some wholesome nostalgic stories, you have little more than trauma to dump on him from that period. "Uh, just boring, to be honest," You say. "Focused on school. Stayed in the art room until the cleaners kicked me out every evening."

"Cute," He mumbles with a smile. "I definitely would've liked you."

"Don't be so sure," You whisper, before rushing to change the topic. "Shouldn't we start studying soon? We have Visual Analysis tomorrow afternoon."

"So we do," He replies, stretching his arms out. "Just think - in a few weeks, we'll officially be free from the clutches of education."

You let out a sigh of relief at his words, hoping that Juniper is merciful enough to allow you to have a pleasant summer with Bucky.

"Mom, it's all going wrong!" Juniper cries over the phone as she paces up and down her bedroom floor.

"What's going on, Joopy?" Elizabeth Johnson replies with a concerned tone. "Is everything alright?"

"No!" Juniper all but screams, throwing open her wardrobe door. "Everything is ruined!"

"Oh, baby, whatever it is, we can fix it," Elizabeth replies soothingly, used to her daughter's melodramatics. "We always fix it."

"The only way it can be fixed is if that bitch drops dead," Juniper spits, pulling out items of clothes and tossing them onto the ground.

Elizabeth hums, guessing, "Does James have a new girlfriend?"

"The stupid bitch invited herself to Cabo!" Juniper all but screams. "That's my trip! How dare she?"

"Oh, honey, if you don't want her there, just tell her not to come," Elizabeth suggests diplomatically. "It is our trip, after all."

"Jamie wants her to come," Juniper says with a pout. "If I uninvite her, he'll be angry with me. I thought they had broken up, but she found a way to worm back into our lives. Ugh!"

"The Juniper I know would find a way to get what she wants, no matter what," Elizabeth says. "Remember when you were in high school, and James was asked to the prom by Karen Sinclair? You spent five minutes talking to her and managed to get her to cancel the plans with James, leaving him to take you instead. I've never been prouder."

Raising a brow, Juniper slowly closes her wardrobe door. "I remember that," She mumbles, her mind racing with ideas. "I gotta go, Mom. I have something to do."

"Atta girl. Call me tomorrow and we can plan Cabo. I love you," Elizabeth says cheerily before hanging up.

Putting down her phone, Juniper lets out a breath before a smile slowly starts to grow on her lips.

It's time to take back what's hers.

"Understandably, Bucky thought I did it," Wren recalls, looking down at her twiddling thumbs. "I mean, he walked up to see his best friend bleeding on the floor and his girlfriend - no, fiance - standing over her, holding the knife. I was too numb with shock to even try and tell him the truth. He didn't say a single word to me. Just picked her up and took her to the hospital. I ran home, packed my things, and skipped town, expecting the cops to be on my tail. I ran for three months before realizing she hadn't filed a report against me."

The four sitting opposite her sit in silence, each of them as appalled as the other. It takes a couple of minutes to pass before Yelena speaks up. "Yeah, we need to take that bitch down," She decides firmly.

"You make it sound easy," Wren mutters bitterly.

"Surely if we go to Bucky and tell him all of this, he'll have no choice but to believe us," Thor argues with a frown. "There's strength in numbers, isn't there?"

A dry laugh leaves Wren's mouth. "It wouldn't be enough to just tell him. Don't you see? The cunt's spent almost two decades cultivating her perfect angel persona, and he's never had a reason to think otherwise," She tells him. "We can't just tell him. We have to show him."

"How?" Wanda asks, shaking her head. "We set her up?"

"Easier said than done," Steve grumbles. "Thor and I have been trying to get Bucky and Y/N back together for the past week and even that's proven to be impossible. How do we out-play the player?"

"Juniper may be smart, but she's still human," Yelena reminds them. "She's bound to mess up eventually. Heck, it's finals season; she'll be distracted and stressed out, and it might be easier to attack."

"But what do we do?" Wanda asks, frowning. "How do we prove to Bucky, once and for all, that Juniper's an evil bitch who's been sabotaging his relationships his entire life? Now that him and Y/N are over, she has no reason to do anything crazy."

Wren stands up and begins pacing around the room. "We need to trigger her," She decides. "Make her think there's someone new in Bucky's life. She'd be tempted to do what she always does; try and sabotage it, and we can make sure we're there to catch her red-handed."

"I like it," Wanda says with a nod.

"But where do we find someone new for Bucky to be involved with?" Thor wonders.

"Does it have to be someone new?" Yelena asks, before turning her attention to Wren. "Or, would she be even more triggered if she thought it was someone from his past?"

Wren's brow flies up and she's taken aback for a few seconds before she grins. "That's fucking brilliant."

Yelena

T and I drove to Brooklyn for food but it got late so we stayed in a hotel last night. Should be back later today x

If it wasn't a regular occurence for Thor and Yelena to spontaneously take a road trip just to check out a new restaurant, you'd be suspicious, but you're just slightly jealous you weren't invited. But you think sex with Bucky might be a little better than birria tacos.

After a long day of studying yesterday and the exam today, Bucky went home, leaving you to your own devices. You're grateful for the peace and quiet, and plan to head to the gym until you see the heavy rain outside.

"Fuck that," You mumble before collapsing down onto the couch and reaching for the remote control before your phone buzzes again. Assuming it's Yelena again, you pick it up and glance at the screen, but sit up when you see it's an Instagram message from none other than Juniper. "The fuck do you want?" You mutter bitterly. "Probably warning me to stay away from Cabo. Yeah, right."

Opening up the message, you see that it's shorter than you were expecting.

juniper_

We need to talk. Meet me at the statue by the lake.

Looking up at the window and seeing that the rain still hasn't let up, you scoff.

You

in this weather? no thanks. what do you need to say?

juniper_

If you care about Bucky, you'll come. I'm waiting.

Don't bite. Don't bite. Don't bite.

Damn. You can't help but be curious about what it is she needs to say. Deciding it might be good to hash it out with her, you agree to meet, seeing it as a chance to tell her to back off.

Twelve minutes later, you're standing in the pouring rain by the tall statue of some old philosopher behind campus. Juniper's tossing pebbles into the lake, clad in a heavy, black coat.

"Hey," You call out, your voice almost drowned out by the rain.

She turns around, her hood hiding her eyes. "I'm glad you came," She says. "That was a smart choice."

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and reply, "Can we make this quick? I'm freezing."

Juniper walks closer to you, an oddly calm look on her face as the rain batters down on you both. "I think I'll take my sweet time, actually," She says. "I'd like to savor this moment."

"I know you were lying," You tell her firmly. "About him showing you my nudes. I asked him."

A flash of fear shoots across her eyes, but she does well to remain calm.

"Don't worry; I didn't mention your name," You say with a scoff. "But the next time you try something like that, I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus. I've had enough of you trying to fuck things up - he likes me, Juniper. A lot. And I like him. There's nothing you can do to change that."

She listens to your rant with a bored look on her face. You aren't sure if you're imagining a slight smugness start to bloom. "Are you done?" She asks, not bothering to wait for your answer before continuing. "As you can tell, I'm very protective over Jamie," She begins.

Yeah, no shit.

"I like to keep him safe," She goes on to claim. "I like to know that the people he spends time with are good people. People who won't hurt him or put him in danger."

Your eyes narrow into a glare. "What the fuck are you getting at, Johnson?" You ask her curtly, sick of standing in the rain and listening to her riddles.

"It's my duty, as his best friend, to look out for him," She says, making you cringe. "I have a right to know who he's spending time with. So, I decided to check up on you."

You raise a brow at her words. "Check up on me?"

"You made my job pretty hard, I have to admit," She says with a dry laugh. "But that only motivated me more because a hidden past usually means there's something worth hiding. At least, that's what my father's private investigator believes."

Your stomach flips. Surely not. "I don't know what-"

"Shut the fuck up," Juniper cuts you off coldly, all warmth leaving her face. "My PI did a deep dive on you, Y/N. You poor little thing, growing up in poverty. Probably went to sleep hungry more than once. Never given any toys for Christmas. Ignored on birthdays."

"You have no fucking idea what you're talking about, Juniper," You tell her firmly, clenching your hands into fists.

"Oh, but I do," She says smugly. "See, Jamie and I grew up on the right side of the tracks. We had it good. Jamie's used to a certain level of quality. He likes nice things. Expensive art. Luxury. All the things you've never known. You may know a little about art, but you'll never emulate the natural refinement and elegance that comes with lifelong wealth."

Refined and elegant are hardly how you'd describe her.

"You think he gives a fuck that I grew up poor, you pompous bitch?" You ask her, shaking your head. "I thought you knew him better than that. He isn't shallow."

"I agree. It's possible that he could look past that stuff," She suggests with a shrug before a smirk pulls at her lips. "But do you think he could look past the things you did to make money? To look past the man you killed?"

Your heart drops. She's bluffing. She has to be bluffing.

"Poor old David Rust," She says with a faux pout. "Yet another lost soul succumbing to a foul addiction, murdered. In cold blood."

"There's more to it than that," You find yourself explaining to her, hating that you feel so weak. "I was sixteen. I wasn't even convicted."

"You think any of that matters?" Juniper scoffs. "You're a crackwhore murderer. When Bucky finds out... he'll be disgusted."

The rain continues beating down on you, but it does little to distract you from the horrific feeling of dread pooling in your stomach. It's weighing you down, making you want to drop to the floor.

She takes another step closer to you. "But, he doesn't have to find out," She offers. "As long as you stay the fuck away from him, I won't tell him about your ugly past. Break up with him, and nobody but you and I have to live with the truth."

What a fucking bitch. You consider telling Bucky yourself - explaining the entire truth - but what if she's right? Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he wouldn't understand being pushed to the edge. Being made to do the worst things just to make ends meet. Just to make sure you didn't starve. He may be polite enough not to tell you to his face, but he'd as disgusted with you as you are with yourself.

"Let's face it," She utters. "You don't deserve him. You were born and raised in the gutters. That's where you belong, and it's where you'll always belong. You can pretend you have it all with your makeup and your skirts and your art degree, but you're only playing dress-up. The trash you are on the inside will always be there, rotting, festering, until everyone around you can smell it. Wouldn't you rather end it with him before it gets to that point?"

You look up at her, wanting to scream, wanting to hit her and call her names and pull her hair, but you don't have the energy. She's not far from right - you and Bucky are worlds apart. You've been ignoring it up until now, but there's only so long you can go before he starts asking you about your childhood. Maybe she has a point. Maybe it would be easier to end it before he finds out the truth. At least that way, he'd only think you're cruel rather than a murderer.

"I'll let you think about it," Juniper says, giving you one last sneer. "You have a week to make your decision."

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[stevecoregirly]

play fake | part five

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes thank u for being patient with me! <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

You weren't a cuddler.

At least, not with Rafe. When you fell asleep on his bed last night, he scoffed at the sight. How tired you were. How you immediately fell off post-orgasm. He had other plans, to make you come more, but it was obvious it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he helped you get under the comforter, and when you did, you instinctively pulled to the edge of the mattress, like you knew to put as much distance between you and him.

Rafe thought it would change by morning. That you would find yourself in his arms and he would be able to tease you about it. You didn't. Your hands tucked under your head, you faced the wall, laid on your side, and you did everything possible to avoid contact with him.

For some reason, it pissed him off.

Like he was mad at your subconscious when you didn't do anything wrong. He thought—assumed—you would let him in. When he poured a bit of himself last night, letting himself be vulnerable with you, he thought it was a gateway for you to return the sentiment. But, somewhere, deep down, you still didn't trust him.

He was the one who got out of bed first.

He went to the ensuite and took a shower, washing away his sweat and subtle case of hangover. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. He doesn't know if it's because, halfway through the night, clarity dawned on him or because he was crossed with a different drug than his usual high. Either way, he was grateful.

Until the ringing started.

It happened once. It was your phone; the ringtone too obnoxious to be his. Then, it ended. And started again. This happened a couple more times until Rafe got annoyed and stepped out of the bathroom to check on who the fuck was calling you so early in the morning.

It was your job.

He softens for a moment. He forgot that you had shit to do, that the two of you were on opposite sides of the economic spectrum. He may have luxury and all the time in the world but you had work. You weren't kidding when you said you needed to pull doubles just to stay afloat.

He wanted to wake you up and give you the phone to handle it. But, something about your sleeping position makes him hesitate. You look so peaceful. Calm. Like you haven't had a good night's rest in a long time and he wasn't going to ruin that.

So, he did something he probably shouldn't.

He turned your phone off.

He went back to the bathroom to finish the rest of his routine and when he came out, you were starting to stir. Your hands were rubbing the sleepy haze out of your eyes and you were searching around the room to figure out where you were.

"You're up." He acknowledges, stepping out into his room. "Get ready. We're heading out."

"Go where?" You mumble drowsily, trying to remember your own name right now, much less try to get ready. "Wait, what time is it?"

Rafe doesn't say anything, glancing at the present that sits on his desk. He grabs it, throwing it onto the bed, which you manage to catch in the nick of time. "Here, before I forget." He declares, going to his closet to exchange his sweatpants for some outside attire.

You look inside the bag, more thoroughly this time. You counted a total of fourteen Plan B packs, the stems of the tulips were slightly-wilted from lack of water, and the envelope isn't a letter but rather a thick wad of something—like cash.

"I'm not taking this." You pull out the envelope and slide it across the bed. Rafe glances down at it, then back to you, a scowl forms on his face.

"You don't know what it is."

"It's money," you say, easily. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"So what?" He steps forward, closing in the distance as he stands before the bed, grabbing the envelope and holding it out to you again. "You need the money. Take it."

"No." You cross your arms, stubbornly.

God, this fucking early in the morning?

He clenches his teeth. "Why the fuck not?"

You take a beat before you answer. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me."

He looks genuinely serious about knowing your answer. Not just another way to pick it apart and fight back, but to be willing. It makes you consider telling him the truth. Sighing, you explain. "It's just... it means that whenever you fuck up, you get to put some money in it and it fixes everything. I refuse to let you think that you can wave some cash in front of my face and everything will be forgiven."

There's more reasons why you don't accept the money, not for the exchange you're doing, but you rather not get into that right now. That explanation, in this context, was the most appropriate.

"That's not... I..." Rafe trails off, his mouth slightly slack from the confession. That's not what he meant to do, but there's some merit behind your words, nonetheless. It is easier to flash his wallet than apologizing for any misdemeanor he committed. It's something he does. It's something he learned from his father. "I'm not."

You chuckle. "Say that more convincingly and I might believe you."

Rafe swallows, watching the gentle smile light up your lips. He didn't realize how much he didn't appreciate it before. Not until you gave him the whole silent treatment and called him out.

"It's not," he starts again with a clear of his throat. "I do that. I'm not gonna lie about that. But, in this case... It wasn't just that. You needed the money. I took it out of your paycheck to buy Plan B. It cost nothing to me."

You don't answer him, glancing back at the bag. "You already bought me Plan Bs."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can cover rent with fucking contraceptive pills."

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you take his words with some consideration. You admit, this is a version of his apology, no matter how pretentious it may seem. With that, you accept the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you."

Rafe is pleased at that. That you finally didn't give him such a hard time to help you. That you just accepted it, even if it was done with some initial hesitation.

Pulling himself off the mattress, Rafe turns back to his closet, only for your voice to stop him.

"You know, it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume we'll be having sex this much."

He looks at you, seeing you tilt your head at him in a challenge. The bag lifted off your lap to demonstrate the amount he bought.

"It's so I'll ever have to hear you complain about spending money again."

You chuckle. There it is, the cover of assholery to make up for the vulnerability he exposed just moments ago. "If this is the rate we'll be going, you should've just bought me birth control."

"Fuck off, it's not going to be a regular thing."

You laugh. "I guess I'll just use these with my other boyfriends. Since we won't be needing them."

Rafe stills. He knows you're teasing him, to get a rise out of anything you can find yourself on. But something in his blood runs hot as those words escape your lips. At the idea of you with others. He turns back to the bed, lowering himself to your level before grabbing your cheeks in one palm.

It wasn't done roughly. That's the reason why your smirk is so fucking conceited right now. He wants to do something to make you take back your words.

But nothing came to mind. Not this morning. Not after last night.

Instead, he mutters, "you play too fucking much."

He releases you with a light shove, enough for you to fall back against the pillows. Rafe grabs the first thing out of his closet and walks back to the bathroom, and just when he's about to close the door, he hears your laughter erupt from behind.

—

After getting ready, by wearing whatever you could find in Sarah's closet—which Rafe made you use because she hasn't been home in over two months—you called to check in with Sailor. Your phone was off, for some odd reason, and when you called to make sure the place is running regardless of your absence, you agreed to go to whatever the fuck Rafe planned.

It was shopping.

You feel out of place the moment you arrive at the outlet downtown of Figure Eight. It's mainly for Kooks to come and shop, the bouquets and storefronts are out of your price-range for so many reasons. You thought it was a cruel joke for Rafe to give you some money, only to expect you to spend it in places like here.

"No," you shake your head for the umpteenth time, moving onto the next space. For the past twenty minutes, Rafe's been trying to get you to stop and try on clothes. You've been declining all of the options. You know you won't be able to afford them so there's no real point. You hope you reject enough of them that the both of you can leave.

"You have to pick a place at some point."

"I don't see why we have to shop here." You turn to him. "There's plenty of places near The Cut we can go to. It's cheaper."

His expression is sharp, as if the suggestion disgusted him to consider. “I'm not going to The Cut for their cheap-ass clothes."

"Well we're not going here either because there's no way in hell I can afford these clothes, Rafe," you retort, crossing your arms. He said he needed to get you some new clothes because your dress was too short, and since you don’t have many options in your closet, you agreed. You just didn’t expect to file for bankruptcy in order to afford it.

You're about to walk off again, furthering the sidewalk to preview the other shops you can't afford, when Rafe grabs your arm.

"You're not paying, alright?" He asserts. "Now, get into the shop before you piss me off."

You don't move. Not with that attitude.

"What's the magic word?"

"Fuck off."

You imitate a buzzer. "Wrong."

Rafe closes into you until he's right in front of your face. "If you are trying to get me to say please, think again, sweetheart, because there's no way in hell that I'm going to beg you for this."

You aren't intimidated. Glancing down at his hands, you ask, "how's your wrists, by the way?"

He rolls his eyes, forging annoyance, before pulling you to the nearest bouquet. He knew it wasn't done without some willingness on your end, that your comment satisfied some power trip, and the two of you slipped through the glass doors of a fancy establishment.

An older woman welcomes you. She asks what you were looking for and Rafe answers before you get the chance to. When the saleswoman gathered the directive, she headed off to grab a couple of dresses from the store.

Rafe requested a private room. Since they had no such thing, this agitated him. However, since the store is mostly-empty right now and no one is using the fitting room lounge, Rafe’s mood slightly lightens. Sitting on the designated waiting couch, you head into one of the fitting rooms to try on the first item.

"What is this going to be for?" You ask, tugging on the strapless dress against your braless chest.

"There's a gala next week for Cameron Development. We're going."

You hum in response, acknowledging that this isn't a spontaneous trip done out of the kindness of his heart but because of your deal. The ploy you're fronting for Ward to see Rafe as reliable. You can't help but feel a small dose of disappointment.

Glancing at the mirror for a final check, you step out to find Rafe leaning against the long cream couch with his legs spread apart.

Rafe watches as you exit from the stall, reluctance pouring into each step you take. When you stop in front of him, you stretch your arms out to let him see the full details, before dropping them mere seconds later. "Good enough?" You ask.

"Turn around." He commands with a whirl of his ringed finger, making you roll your eyes but doing as he says. He studies the back. "Try another one."

Without another word, you head back to the room to pull off another dress from the rack. It became a routine for you: trying on one, doing a little spin for Rafe to see the completed look, waiting for his decision, before returning back to your stall to repeat.

None of the dresses have been a good fit, meaning you liked them, but Rafe found enjoyment in the process. This surprised him. He always hated going shopping for Wheezie or Sarah—especially the latter—but something about going with you, making you try clothes on for him, getting his opinions, stirs something primal in him.

He had to adjust his pants on the fourth dress you tried. That one revealed too much of your ass.

Despite your initial reluctance, you were starting to have fun. You never got the chance to be this girl—the one who spends their days dressing up, acting like a princess getting ready for her first ball—and it makes you excited. A little happy. But, you'll never admit it to Rafe.

However, your options are quickly dwindling. The saleswoman had to go to the front to gather some more dresses for you. As you pull the last one off the rack, you step out of the fitting room.

"Fuck." Rafe swears under his breath, watching you come out with a new piece. A long satin dress that clings to every curve of your body, showing off every impressive inch of your cleavage while leaving more to the imagination and a high slit that cuts up mid-thigh. It might be his favorite.

It was definitely yours.

"What do you think?" You prompt timidly, the lack of outright comment about your attire made you a bit antsy for his thoughts.

“I…” Rafe trails off, his eyes lifted to find yours. “What do you think?”

"Well," you spin, demonstrating with the little twirl that Rafe always makes you do. "I like it. I think it fits me."

"Then, let's get it."

You shake your head, laughing at the idea. "It's outrageously expensive. I can't afford it in this lifetime."

His expression shifts to an unreadable one. "I said I got it."

"And I don't think that's necessary. I can take care of myself." You say, which is true. You know Rafe has money, and you know he wouldn't feel a dent in his wallet if he bought it for you. However, the idea makes you uncomfortable. Not because he was spending money, but because you're letting someone else take care of you. Have power over something you spent your entire life controlling. It feels... wrong.

His jaw locks, his words sharper than before. "I took you here, that means I pay."

"No." You stand firm, shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll just try on something more affordable."

You go back to the dressing room without allowing Rafe to get another word in and he slumps back into his seat with mounting agitation. Rubbing his tense jaw, he can't seem to understand why you won't let him do things for you.

He's capable. He has money. All of this rationalization leads to one infuriating conclusion: why the fuck do you act like he has none of that?

It's simple.

You don't trust him.

"Rafe." You call out. It pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts and he turns to the closed door of your stall. "I can't get the zipper out. Can you help me?"

He was on his feet before you finished your sentence. Knocking, he hears the soft click of the lock as he pushes the door in, stepping inside the limited space. Standing in front of the large mirror, your back is turned to him.

Glancing over your shoulders, you offer him a sheepish look, "just pull it down. I think it's stuck."

He wordlessly steps forward before grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing it to the side. His large hands descend from your neckline to the tiny zipper tucked behind the fabric.

You watch him through the mirror, his expression is hard but his eyes are completely focused on the task at hand. A small smile rises to your lips.

When he lowers the zipper down to the end of the teeth, just at the midsection of your dress, he turns back to you. "Done."

"Thank you, boyfriend." You hum with a grateful grin, holding onto the front of your dress as it started to spill over from the lack of restraint. When you turn around, you’re surprised to find Rafe remaining. "I need some privacy to change—"

"Drop your arms."

The demand startles you. "For what?"

Rafe has the strongest urge to rip off your crossed arms himself, your questions delaying him of what he deserves, but he knows you. At least, he's getting to. Even if his mind is caught in a turmoil right now and he just wants to do something to prove to himself that you bare some semblance of trust in him, he can't force you. Not when he has an inch of restraint left in him.

He wants you to be willing.

Swallowing hard, he confesses. "Because I want to see you."

You can tell it took everything in him to say that. The corner of your lips finds your smile again. "You could've asked nicely."

"That is me asking nicely."

You chuckle, your arms still guarded over your chest. His eyes glance down. "Strip."

"Is this part of the arrangement?" You tilt your head, teasing out the moment a little longer. "An inspection for your girlfriend?"

He cups the underside of your jaw, almost in a chokehold. His eyes are hard on you, his patience wearing thin. "Stop playing with me, sweetheart."

You look up to him, doe-eyed and innocent. "Remove your hand, darling."

His jaw clenches at your own command, his grip around your throat sends a pleasurable sensation straight to your core. With great reluctance, he drops it.

"Who knew you'd do well with instructions?" You grin, taking a step back, closer to the mirror. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

"If you don't remove them in five seconds, I'm ripping them off."

Excitement stirs in you. At the way he looks at you. The way he wants you. Rafe watches as you slowly drop your arms to your side, the flimsy satin glides off your body into a puddle by your ankles.

His breathing hitch in his throat as his hungry eyes take in your naked body, complete from head to toe, saved for a pair of panties hung around your hips that he's positive won't be there in the next few minutes.

There's a palpable silence. His eyes are intense but his words are obsolete. You needed something from him, some vocalization of his thoughts. Placing a hand on your hips, you ask, "did I pass?"

"You have a fucking nipple piercing."

You laugh at the astonishment in his tone, glancing down to your full tits and seeing the metal barbells lined through your nipples. "Is it not worthy enough of a Kook?" You ask with a tease, running the pad of your thumb over the sensitive bud, biting back a moan. "Am I going to get punished?"

He groans. Having enough, Rafe steps forward and captures your lips with his. His force pushes you against the cool mirror.

"I can't fucking stand you." He murmurs, his hand traveling down to cup one breast in his palm. "You were hiding these from me? The whole fucking time?"

The way he's handling you feels so good. "Didn't know I had to share everything with you."

"You do." Rafe asserts, his fingers pinching your sensitive tip and causing your whole body to arch. "God, they're sensitive, aren't they?"

You nod, needy. His hot mouth descends and his tongue swirls around the metal bar, eliciting a whimper from you. It's very sensitive, and you steady yourself against the mirror as Rafe lowers his other hand over your hips, pushing your panties down.

Rubbing your clit with one hand, teasing you with his mouth, you can't help but build towards a climax at the double sensation.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers against your bare skin, his eyes flickering up to meet your heavy-lid gaze. "Parading around in dresses all day, trying them on for me?"

You feel yourself getting closer, but you can't help but tease him. "They weren't for you—"

His hand covers your mouth, the one slick with your arousal, and the removal of his touch leaves you empty and aching. You regret it instantly. "I don't want to hear you mouth me off again. You had your fun." He warns, his expression hard and resolute. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to pick up that dress, fold it neatly on that chair, and I'm going to buy it."

A protest forms in your throat, but he catches it, deepening the pressure of his palm against your mouth. "Then I'm going to fuck you against this mirror. Remind you who you're with. Is that enough instructions for you, sweetheart?"

Desperate for a finish, you nod. Rafe watches as you pick up the dress and fold the fabric over the chair, before returning back to your previous spot.

"Turn around." He commands. You face the mirror, seeing your bareness in the reflection and the eagerness on your features. "Spread your legs."

You do, obeying him, and he chuckles darkly at the sight. "God, you're so fucking obedient now, aren't you?" He taunts, his eyes flicking to your face in the reflection as his hand lands a slap against your ass. "If I told you to touch yourself right now, you'd listen, wouldn't you?"

You would. The realization makes your face burn, your arms instinctively went to cover your chest. His expression hardens. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he grabs your wrist. "Do I need to tie them up for you too? Drop them."

Your pulse sputters, you lower your arms to your side, tucked. "I knew there was a good girl in there somewhere."

"Rafe." You whimper softly, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please fuck me."

He grins at your plea, removing his slacks and briefs in one swift motion. You watch his swollen cock spring free, the tip running beads of his precum. Your mouth waters and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together.

"You want this dick, sweetheart?" He teases, approaching you from behind. "You want me to fill that sweet, tight cunt?"

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please."

"Put your hands on the mirror." He instructs, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair, tipping your head back to meet your gaze in the reflection. "Look at yourself when I fill you."

Lining his erection against your entrance, you watch as he slowly enters your pussy from behind. The image is so gratifying and sensual. "So tight for me," he groans, a hand grabbing your hips to steady him. "Feels so fucking good."

Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as Rafe pumps in you, finding a pace, the angle from behind allowing him to hit deeper spots. You hold onto the mirror tighter, trying to contain your moans and the pleasure coursing through you.

"Look at you," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "Taking me so fucking well."

You nod desperately, moaning at his thrusts roughly slams against your walls. "You fill me up so good."

"Just for me, right, sweetheart?" He lands a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck, to which you respond with a mewl. "My fucking girl."

Nodding, your eyes flutter at the way he rocks inside of you, your walls clenching around his length.

"Rub your tits for me." Rafe demands roughly, his pace growing more fervent as he watches your body through the reflection. You do as he says, using a hand to pinch and pull your pierced nipples between your fingertips, the sensitivity of your buds adding to the quickly-rising climax. "Fuck, I love watching you do that."

The praise unburdens something deep inside of you and your goal becomes to make him feel satisfied. Steady yourself with one hand on the mirror, your handprint greasing the clean silver, you play with your nipples further, twisting and moaning in your own pleasure. "Like that?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods heavily, his chest sheen with a thin layer of sweat.

"Fuck." His rhythm goes faster, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your ass echoing in the empty lounge and overwhelming pleasures causing your eyes to close shut.

Rafe catches that. Pulling you into him, with your arched back pressed against his chest, he roughly grabs your throat and forces you to open them, staring right at your reflection. "You're going to watch me fuck you, sweetheart," he pants into your ear, the sight before you driving flips into your stomach. "And you're going to fucking remember this."

Your hair is a complete mess, his hand wrapped around your throat as the other gripping your hips harshly to steady his sloppier thrusts, and you're being fucked in a public dressing room and loving each second of it.

Both of your moans and his grunts echoes. Your peak rising.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your thighs burning from the intensity of Rafe's pumps and your position. "I think I’m going to come—"

Someone calls your name.

Rafe stills.

"Are you in there?" The old saleswoman asks, her voice soft and delicate. You know she would die of a heart attack if she looked inside this room. "I brought more dresses for you. Where did your boyfriend go?"

"I—" Rafe begins to slowly rock against your body, his smile devilish in the reflection. "I–I'm here." You choke.

"Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you alone?"

No, you answer in your head, but your words are muddled as Rafe quickens his pace. Not enough where you can hear the sound of your pussy squelching, but enough for you to feel the returning buzz of your orgasm.

"Answer the nice lady, sweetheart," Rafe mumbles into your ear with a smile, pushing your hair to the side, as you send him a glare. Which quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he hits your g-spot. You slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't be rude."

You had many words for Rafe, but none of them were coming out. You could only do so much. "He's–he's fine," you declare shakily, "I think he went to—" you let out a small whimper. Rafe's hand is now rubbing your clit in unison to his penetration.

You want to kill him.

You want to come so badly.

"He went where?" She prompts sweetly.

"The bathroom!" You shout with a half-moan, Rafe chuckling as he lays kisses on your backside, against your shoulder blades, increasing his thrusts. Your walls twitching around his cock.

"We don't have a bathroom."

Rafe tsk against your burning skin, shaking his head in forged disappointment. "Bad little liar."

"I'm going to kill you," you croak. Your climax builds so fast, you're trying hard to hold it off as long as possible.

"How are you going to come, then?" He taunts through the reflection, watching the way your body rocks with each drive. Your legs are weakening. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head desperately, almost to tears, gripping the mirror edge for the life of you. "Please, don't."

"Then answer her."

"Hello?" The woman calls out, her voice pitched with a slight annoyance from your lack of response. "Do you want to try on the dresses? Should I bring them to you—"

"You can just le–leave it out there!" You moan with abandon. There was no way to avoid it.

"Are you sure—"

"Go away, please!" You plead, Rafe landing a hard thrust against you and causing your knees to finally buckle. He catches your waist with one strong arm, holding you upright.

The old woman huffs at your brusqueness, her little footsteps padding across the floor and exits from the lounge. With that signal, Rafe slams into you, with harsh desperate beats, to make up for the lost time. You come within a matter of seconds.

Worn out, he holds you up for a few more pumps before he spills into you. His hot cum filling your cunt. You're catching your breath, your face is completely flushed, and Rafe holds you tightly as the both of you come down from your high.

With enough strength, you pull yourself up and lean against the mirror for support.

"That was rude of you," Rafe declares with a tease, going to grab his discarded clothes.

"I hate you." You pant, your legs wobbling from your own weight. "I hate you so much."

He chuckles, redressing himself. Watching him as he collects himself, his eyes glance over to the chair before finding your exhausted face. "Now, are you going to let me buy that dress or are we going to have to do this again?"

—

Rafe ends up buying the dress. You were no energy to argue, and when he pulls you to the register to purchase the expensive satin, the old saleswoman gives you a withering glare—either at your rude outburst or the product of your image being a clear indication of you being throughly-fucked in the dressing room—that you quickly exit the bouquet.

It didn't stop at the clothes. Rafe also pulled you to a nearby jewelry store too. He got you a gold necklace; your argument was completely futile with one glance.

"The necklace was unnecessary." You complain, pulling out the gift-wrapped box in the passenger seat of his car. Rafe is driving you back to your house.

He glances at you from his peripheral vision. "You need to look the part."

"But did you have to buy the most expensive one?" You retort, glancing over to him. "There were cheaper options. There's even fake ones I saw at the end of the display."

His hand, resting on your thigh, squeezes the flesh. "You think I'll let my girl walk around with fake gold? Do you know what they'll say about me?"

"That you're financially responsible?"

He scoffs, pinching the inside of your legs. You giggle. "That I can't afford to give my girlfriend some nice things. I'm not fucking broke."

You roll your eyes, opening the box. Your fingers trace the gorgeous details of the necklace, landing on the pendant at the center. "R, huh?" You say with a tease, looking over to Rafe again.

He shrugs. "Had to let everyone know who you belong to."

You know this is a fake relationship, that this is nothing more than to keep his image clean, but you can't help but feel a buzz at the possessiveness of his words. It almost makes you feel like you’re his.

Rafe pulls up to your neighborhood and is about to pull up to your house, when you stop him. "Right here is fine," you announce, holding your hand over the clutch to make him park. He does, his brows furrowed at your abrupt reaction.

"I could drive up—"

"No, it's okay." You wave him off with a small smile, unbuckling your seat and gathering your things in the leg compartment. "The walk is good for me."

It isn't that far. It's just off the edge of your driveway, enough where it doesn't look like Rafe is coming into your house but close enough where he can see the front porch.

Grabbing your bags, you bid him a farewell. You close the door of the passenger side and rush up to your porch, Rafe waits until you make it into your house.

This is the second time you've done this. You never let him go further up your driveway. Don't let him meet you at the door. It was like you were hiding him—embarrassed of him.

His hand grips the steering wheel as he watches you ring your own doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door swings open.

And it was fucking Heyward and Maybank.

They set out to greet you, pulling you into a side hug while pointing at the bags in your hands, to which you shyly tuck behind your back to hide from them with little avail. Rafe tightens his grip against the wheel, his knuckles whitening, as he watches you step inside, closing the door—with them.

He should leave. He knows he should. That's what he promised himself he would do. But, knowing you’re in there, with two men, drives him to stay. He can't go up to your doorsteps, you wouldn't allow it, so he waited. And waited. And waited.

It was over an hour and neither Maybank or Heyward exited from your house. It drove Rafe furious. Deciding that was time, he turns off the engine and marches up to your porch, banging on the door.

You open it in a matter of seconds, afraid that you were getting raided by the cops. Your outfit had switched into a baggy tee with shorts—too fucking short, he decided—and your expression etched with surprise.

"Rafe? What–what are you doing here? I thought you left—"

"Where is he?" Rafe declares, glancing over your shoulders with tightened fists. Trying to gain control of himself before he snaps. "Where the fuck are they?"

"Who? JJ?"

"Is that it?"Rafe snaps, his anger rising in waves. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"I...I was helping him...?" You answer hesitantly, watching his expression shift from rage to fury.

"Helping him with what? Fucking him?"

You blink back in surprise. Your words caught in your throat by his outrageous accusation that it renders you speechless. Rafe, catching it as hesitation, had enough. His last string of restraint snaps. Finally, he steps inside, forcing you in and slams the door close behind him.

He grabs you by the throat, his fingers gripping the sides, causing a pleasurable sensation to your core. "Maybe you're right," he declares lowly, his darkened gaze lowered to you. "You do need to be punished."

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#omg omg omgggggg

[stevecoregirly]

not a request but this..

THIS is so rafe cameron! spoiling his sweet little girl. total princess treatment🎀

she’s lying in bed and whining about how she can’t pull up her socks because she’s soooooo exhausted after their fucking last night cause he railed her so so so so good!! she’s his little princess and no one will ever be treated like this!!🎀

OMG YES HELLO?!?

you’d whine, tugging on his hand. “i can't pull up my socks," you pout. you could barely move your legs, still worn out from the night before.

rafe sighed, kneeling down before you, roughly putting your foot on his lap as he pulled up the sock. "there you go, happy now?" he pat your thigh he's done.

he groaned "i've gone soft for you, sweetheart,"

#i think i just fell down a creek and died #bc this is wayyyyy to good #like im in love with this helpppp #why is rafe so hot omggg #the writing is ooof so good #fic reviews #fic recs

[stevecoregirly]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ sweetly.

༘˙𓂃𑁤 i don' mean to be that person, but i've been posting lots of rafe imagines n nobody is interacting with my works :(

"you want this, yea?" rafe questions softly, brushing the calloused pads of his fingertips along the bare skin of your quivering abdomen, feeling the innocent goosebumps rising on your soft, delicate skin that smelled like vanilla, and the beach.

you nod shakily, letting out a small, shuddering breath filled with nerves, feeling as rafe brings down his long, nimble fingers and easily slips them under the pretty white cotton panties you wore that was decorated with a small pink bow at the front.

"fuck, baby—you're so wet for me," rafe sighed softly, gently brushing his calloused fingers through your slick, puffy folds, feeling how hot you're to the touch—you'll be so hot and wet and tight around his cock, he already knows it.

"i... 'm sorry, daddy," you whimper breathily, panting softly through your nose as your core fluttered and clenched any time rafe even got the slightest bit closer to your drooling, fluttering fuckhole.

"r-rafe!" you whine childishly, glossy lips forming into a cute pout as you feel your boyfriend continuing to simply glide his fingers through your warm, wet, sweet little pussy, brushing over your little swollen clit just slightly, wanting to tease you.

rafe smirked mischievously, a sinister look making his steel blue eyes appear darker, more desperate, more possessive.

your boyfriend continued to obsessively touch you, simply gliding his fingers up and down through your messy folds, occasionally slipping the tip of his long index finger inside of your needy hole, before pulling back with an amused smirk once he hears you give a soft, breathy whine of his name that was full of desperation for him to fuck you.

and fuck, rafe cameron wanted to fuck you, perhaps just as desperately as you wanted him to fuck you like a little slut—though the oldest cameron wasn't worried, he would give you both what you wanted if only you'd ask—sweetly.

#omg so hot #i love this rafe #fic review #fic recs

[stevecoregirly]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦���₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

#fic recs #fic review #i need this rafe in my life rn

[stevecoregirly]

Ari

#I would genuinely let this man destroy my life #When I first saw this I almost fell to my knees #HOW DID CHRIS LOOK THAT HOT AND WHY DOESN'T HE STILL HAVE THIS LOOK??? #😔 😔 #No bc he looks so daddy here I litr cannot function 😭 #I so wanna drop down on my knees and suck his dick-like those sweatpants are litr making my mind go to the gutter

[stevecoregirly]

CHUNG HA: I'M READY ♡

#OMG OMG #i did not know she was backkkk #how am i finding about this from tumblr?? #I am so ready for her to carry kpop on her back like gool girl #no bc kpop so needs her rn

[stevecoregirly]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Ik I shouldn't find Coryo attractive but fuck he's sooooo hot—especially when he's choking her 🙈

And I knew she wouldn't just betray and leave him like that!!! Cory's in trouble but the people who did this to them better run because future president Coryo is coming for their asses. I'm shipping these two so hard, they're bad for each other but god are they addicting.

ALSO NOT HIM CARVING HIS NAME WITH A KNIFE ON HER SKIN??? IM SHAKING AND CREAMING MY PANTS RN

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter eighteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | non-con/dub con hints, hints of knife and mild blood consumption, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide, mentions of Dr. Gaul, choking | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow has his hands on you and he's not playing

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 @tristanswildcat thank you for feedback! and y'all also make sure to let me know your thoughts for the chapter!

Beta read by the lovely 🌹 @nowitsmissing

masterlist | navigation

Coriolanus walks behind you. The silence is deafening, the tension could be cut with a knife. The upper floors had bedrooms assigned to every Capitol ‘guest’ that had come. Snow was walking you to yours. You don't say a word to him; you keep walking forward searching for your room number.

You make a soft noise as you find your assigned room. You take out the key that was given to you and you push the key into the keyhole. Your eyes flicker at Coriolanus. But it was impossible to see his emotions, his face was cold and passive. As if you're nothing.

You open the door, unaware of the danger.

You walk in, and Coriolanus follows.

Not even a second has passed and you find yourself pinned to the door. Coriolanus grins as he sees the flash of fear in your eyes. ‘Be afraid of me, dove,’ he thinks. Be afraid. Coriolanus Snow was going to punish you.

And you're going to take it.

He knew he was capable of killing you. He was mad enough for that. He also knew he would kill himself right after because there would be nothing to live for.

“Hi, dove,” he smirked.

“Remember me?” He hissed in anger.

“Cory-” Before you could finish calling him by his nickname, he cuts off your airway with his hand on your throat. He pressed hard, making you gasp. He was taking your breath away.

“Don't call me that, bitch,” he growled. You squirm under his hold but don't fight back. He likes how you're giving in. You're letting yourself surrender like a broken toy. Good girl.

You gasp, trying to say his name again. He pressed harder, making your eyes nearly roll back. He then loosens the hold, letting you take small amounts of air so that you would remain conscious.

Coriolanus takes out a pocket knife that he keeps in his pants at all times. He chuckled as your eyes began to panic and your trash in his hold. “I'll stab your heart if you keep acting up, sweety,” he whispered to your ear. The threat has you relaxing in his hold, though you whimper in fear. Coriolanus would feel ashamed later that he could feel his cock harden from the sound.

Such a fucking drug you are, making him high after all these months. He needs to overdose or else he doesn't think he'll survive. “You…” he said, “you're a horrible, horrible being.” With every word, he squeezed your neck. “I hate you.” It was a lie obviously, but Coriolanus figured that you'd never find out.

Tears begin to fill your eyes. Coryo ignored the pang of pain in his heart. He takes the pocket knife and lets the blade slowly drag against your cheek. He doesn't let it break the skin, not yet. He takes the blade down until he reaches the button of your shirt. One by one he cuts them off, exposing your body to him. He hums in appreciation of your beauty.

“But you still belong to me.”

He lets the knife break skin. He was cutting you near your hip. He could hear you hiss. He doesn't care. He carves out two letters on your skin. CS. Coriolanus Snow. That way you can never forget about him again like you did for all these months. He made sure of it. Every time you look at your body, it will remind you of him.

Snow would never leave your mind now.

Coriolanus felt proud of himself for achieving that. He lets the pocket knife fall on the floor and traces the bloody cut with his finger. He takes his bloody finger and smears the red on his lips. His tongue peeks out to lick the metallic liquid and he groans as he has your taste on his tongue. Is it disgusting of him to think that was delicious? God, district twelve has fucked him up.

“You're so fucking addicting. I should kill you,” he said to you as he sucks his lower lip for any lingering taste. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hold around your neck completely loosening. Now it just stayed there like a leash.

You gasp, taking much-needed air as Coryo nuzzles his face to your neck. The smell of blood fills the room and you whisper his name,

“Coryo.”

He felt the anger rushing back, “You don't get to call me that anymore, dove.” He adds, “You lost the fucking right.” Tears begin to fall from your eyes. “Coryo- please-” you plead, afraid of him.

He felt more anger by the fact that you thought that he would hurt you. He would never! “No- fuck off! Shut up!” He yells, he hopes that the walls are thick here. He pressed his lips to yours, shutting off your begging. He kisses like he's starved and he is. He savagely bites your lower lip, sucking your tongue. He groans into your mouth. He doesn't break the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets.

He hadn't realized that he had begun to choke you again until you stopped kissing back. Your eyes were closed and your unconscious body was supported by him. He takes you to your bed and lays you down slowly. He looks at you, your shirt torn, your body exposed, and your mind shut off.

He frowned, he thought he would like you see you like this. But he didn't at all. He remembered the first time he had been pinned against a door. It was in his penthouse, you were bleeding that day too. But in a different way. He fucked you with his fingers that night, and you were out of it from pleasure. He preferred that much more. He thought of you as pathetic right now.

Anybody could come and take advantage of you. Coriolanus couldn't let that happen. He finds out there's a first aid kit in your suitcase. He takes off your ruined shirt. He wets a cotton ball with antiseptic, he then presses the bud on your cut. He cleans it up to the best of his abilities and stops the bleeding. He then takes out an oversized t-shirt… which he recognizes as his.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused about why you would keep his t-shirt. He clenched his jaw, a bit mad that Tigris had given it to you. He hadn't checked any of her new letters and it was time he spoke to her anyway. He then dresses you up in his old t-shirt. Then he waits… and waits.

He wondered how long he knocked you out for and if he should leave. But he doesn't. It's too risky to leave you alone in a place filled with filthy peacekeepers. Then he hears you murmur in your sleep,

“Please, Dr. Gaul, let me talk to him. Please, I beg of you. He's sorry, I promise.”

You wake up with a startle, crying out his name as you sit up. Your eyes are wide as you look around the unfamiliar room. Then your eyes land on him and you remember. You practically tackle him. Your limbs caging him into a hug. You were on his lap. And you were sobbing so loudly.

“Coryo, Coryo, Coryo,” you repeat his name like a prayer. You pulled back slightly and then you raised your hand to slap him, hard. It stings. He knew that it would leave a mark.

“Why didn't you reply to any of my letters, you bastard!? And you called me a bitch! The fucking audacity!”

Your hand wraps itself around his throat.

It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up.

#coriolanus snow #this review is so unhinged and sounds like the rambles of an old man im sorry op😭

[stevecoregirly]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter sixteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, dean highbottom | lmk if i forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x female! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus wons and he loses

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 okay guys so we're ready for Eminem! Coryo right? Remember to give your love and feedback, thank you <33

Beta read by the infamous @nowitsmissing

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Snow reaches the auditorium in time to see several tribute deaths. He knew immediately that it was because of the rat poison and not because of some sickness these tributes already had. Lucy Gray was on the run from Coral. He holds his breath.

Coriolanus hadn't even sat down on his mentor chair. He leaned against the door of the auditorium instead. He didn't want to miss a moment of this.

“Coryo,” you take away his attention.

“Dove,” he said, startled, his head turning to you. You were in a black dress (surely breaking the rules); while Tigris was wearing a pink outfit.

“Tigris,” he greeted his cousin.

Tigris smiled sweetly at Coryo. “We came to support you.”

Coriolanus nods in return, his attention returning to you. He should look at the screen but he couldn't keep his eyes off you. He thinks that you would always steal his attention like this. Take his mind off of important things. You're dangerous. You're a drug.

“Coryo,” you said his name again. It sounded like fate. He gives you a soft smile. He said your name. It sounded like a boy praying to his goddess.

Your eyes turn to the screen. He doesn't.

“She will be okay,” you reassure him.

He hums in response.

“You should go sit down with Tigris,” he said. He wants to kiss you. But he's not sure he's allowed to. Thankfully you lean in and press your lips against his. He sighs, his mind calming down.

You press another kiss to his lips before going to sit with Tigris. Lucy Gray was still alive. Coriolanus turns his attention to the screen again. He could see Lucy Gray running around, trying her best to escape Coral's wrath. Then the snakes come in. The cage shattered. A girl dies. Coriolanus remembers that Lucy Gray had called her nice.

The boy who had used the flag to cover the dead bodies of the tributes dies. His name was Reaper. Clemensia’s tribute. Coriolanus wants to look away. He doesn't. Coral dies. Everyone watching The Hunger Games hears her last words.

“It’s not fair… I couldn't have killed them all for nothing.”

Coriolanus looks away. Coral is dead. He bites the inside of his cheek. They all killed each other for nothing. The games were nothing but a show of power. A way to undermine the district. There were thousands of other alternatives but his home chose the cruelest way of all.

Survival of the fittest. Simple as that.

As he tells himself that, he looks back to the screen. Lucy Gray was being engulfed by the snakes. The snakes weren't biting her. Familiar scent. He walks inside the auditorium. He sits on his seat.

Lucy Gray began to sign,

“You're headed for heaven

The sweet old hereafter

And I've got one foot in the door

But before I can fly up

I've loose ends to tie up

Right here in the old therebefore

I'll be along

When I've finished my song”

More snakes come around her. She would suffocate to death even if they didn't poison her. Coriolanus panics, he yells out, “Dr. Gaul, she won!”

“It’s over! Let her out!” He adds louder, letting his peers hear. Everyone died except one. A single winner. The winner is the Capitol even if Lucy Gray will be crowned as the victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games

“Why aren't they attacking her?” A fellow mentor's questions.

“It must be her singing,” he said immediately, he had thought of the excuse beforehand. Lucy Gray once mentioned in the zoo how she charmed a snake by singing. Therefore it didn't sound ridiculous. “It's calming them.”

“Well, she can't sing forever.”

He's proud he didn't punch the guy.

Lucy Gray continues singing. She wins the heart of the Capitol all over again with her voice and her lyrics. Every student in the auditorium begins to chant,

“Let her out!”

He suspected that the citizens of the Capitol were doing the same as well. There would be great consequences if the game doesn't have a victor. Dr. Gaul knows it too. An announcement is heard throughout,

“Lucy Gray is the victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games."

Coriolanus Snow won.

He's numb. He's overjoyed. Everyone screams out his name. Many congratulations are received. Dr. Gaul wasn't in sight. He felt Tigris hugging him. All he could think was of you. He had the plinth prize. He has the damn prize!

Snow lands on top.

He finds you standing in the corner. Coriolanus breaks into a disbelieving laugh. He picks you up and twirls you around. Coryo doesn't know how he has the strength but it didn't matter. He was very happy. Nothing can stop him now. His life was set.

He puts you down and kisses you. It wasn't appropriate for the public. He didn't care. He kisses you until his breath is knocked out. He gasps as he breaks the kiss. Coryo could still hear the cheers.

“I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”

“You're my soulmate,” he whispered.

He doesn't see your reaction to his confession. He feels horrified about how he blurted it out. He wasn't thinking. Not even a bit. And now, a few minutes after he won, he was being escorted by the Peacekeepers somewhere.

Probably to receive the prize.

He runs his finger over his scar over and over again. Not even realizing that the scar was oddly shaped like numbers. His feet tapped the floor. It was the only sound in the car. He gains a disapproving look from a peacekeeper. He doesn't care.

He can feel his heart in his throat. He doesn't know how to explain this to you. He prepared himself to lie that he noticed the date on your wrist recently and realized that you were always meant to be his.

Despite knowing who your soulmates are, it was rare in the Capitol for people to end up together. That's because the rich marry for power, not love. Even the poor marry for similar reasons, love doesn't feed anyone. It doesn't provide a roof.

This was an exception.

He's gonna have enough money to have a roof.

He has enough love to be with you.

Everything is going to be fine.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Not.

Everything wasn't going to be fine. That's because after waiting for hours and hours in an empty hallway. Two peacekeepers guarding him. He knew that something went wrong. Perhaps Dean Highbottom was trying his best to convince everyone not to give him the prize. He's not going to win though, Coriolanus fought tooth and nail for it.

He deserved it.

It's not long before he is called into the room. There's no one in sight except Dean Highbottom waiting for him near a round table that is placed in the center of the room. He walks towards the center, stopping a few steps before the table. His heart stopped. His palms were getting clammy and he could feel himself getting a bit dizzy.

Fuck.

The table has his mom's compact and his father's handkerchief, the same handkerchief he had wiped Lucy Gray's tears with. His father's initials were stitched onto the fabric. He could smell the rose scent in the room even though the compact no longer carried the rose-perfumed powder.

“Mr. Coriolanus Snow,” Dean Highbottom began by placing a document on the table, in front of him to view. The handwriting is familiar.

It's yours.

“We have proof that you have cheated.”

“Your father's handkerchief and your mother's compact. How many times I have seen her use it, reminds me of roses.”

He doesn't hear what the Dean is saying. He skims over the words on the paper. It was a confession. A confession by you. You had confessed that you and Coriolanus were in this together. You were willing to take the blame.

“She won't be punished,” Highbottom said, “The girl was foolish for soughting your company. Her father has taken care of everything.”

“But you, Coriolanus Snow, will be a peacekeeper for the next twenty years of your life.”

Coriolanus wanted to protest but in his mind, he felt slightly glad that you were safe. And what would he say in his defense? The evidence was clear. There was nothing to do but accept his fate.

However, he wanted to know why you had confessed. He begins to play in his mind that he could pass all this off as circumstantial evidence. But your blatant confession had ruined everything. He knew you wouldn't break under pressure so what was the reason?

Coriolanus begins to feel bitter, the relief of your safety fading away. You should have been punished too. He wasn't the only one into this. If he goes to hell, you should too. You're his after all. This wasn't fair.

This wasn't fucking fair.

What Dean Highbottom says next sends chills down his spine,

“You hear that, boy? That's the sound of snow falling.”

#in love with this

[stevecoregirly]

Did I or did I not just read this entire fic in one sitting? I'm literally obsessed. The soulmate-not-wanting-his-soulmate trope just hits right. I'm so glad I found this fic because girl is it so well written and the trope is to die for!! I also really really love Coryo's depiction here, he's so perfect. I need him 😭

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞

ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ

series by etfrin | not to be post anywhere without permission!

coriolanus snow x fem! reader

snow lands on top

series taglist | series playlist | navigation

about: coriolanus snow refuses to have a district girl (albeit grown up in the capitol) as his soulmate. it's humiliating and below his status. and so with the 10th annual Hunger Games begins creating the utter most chaos in his life and makes him face everything he had ignored! (movie compliant)

note: some dialogue and paragraphs are taken from the book [the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes]

prologue !

chapter one !

chapter two !

chapter three !

chapter four !

chapter five ! part one | chapter five ! part two

chapter six !

chapter seven !

chapter eight !

chapter nine !

chapter ten !

chapter eleven !

chapter twelve !

chapter thirteen !

chapter fourteen !

chapter fifteen !

chapter sixteen !

chapter seventeen !

chapter eighteen !

chapter nineteen !

chapter twenty !

chapter twenty-one !

and upcoming chapters . . .

#fic reviews #fic rec #coriolanus snow

[stevecoregirly]

I'm never shutting up about how Indigo is literally such a summer album. Like the vibes are immaculate

#namjoon #rm #Indigo #bts #kpop #no bc Namjoon's album got me through the last summer #and I hate summers