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#that’s what happened to my great uncle or something
cinnasweetss · 2 days
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to love and to cherish. | l.hs
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genre: smut, very minimal plot, fluff (a pinch.)
characters: husband/dad!heeseung, wife/mom!reader, “uncle”!jake at the end, seung (reader & heeseung’s son)
wc: 2.8k
content below cut. (plz read…or you’ll be v surprised…)
content: established relationship, mentions of pregnancy & marriage, domestication, reader is a stay at home mom, body insecurity, body description, SLIGHTTTT dacryphilia, lactation, love making, tit play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (hun, love, baby, etc.), praise, etc etc…
A /N: i’m experimenting in my writing (still tame imo)! this might not be everyone’s cup of tea n that’s ok <3 thanks for reading!!
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"dinner looks great, hun." heeseung slides in, slipping a hand around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.  it startles you, whipping your head around to him, soft smile plastered on his face. 
"Didn't hear you come in." you mumble, returning his smile before you continue the dishes. "Got you something." he pulls away, shuffling behind you, "give me a second, hee." you need to finish these dishes tonight. it'll be pain the ass tomorrow if you don't. "Did you put Seung to bed? Told you I wanted to see him, hun." he says, immediately noticing how quiet the house is tonight. lights dimmed, living room picked up and neat instead of the usual plethora of toys. "he got fussy." 
"Baby, come on-"  he nags, only because you have barely looked at him since he stepped in. no 'how was work, honey?' and a cheerful smile like usual. 
"Give me a minute, heeseung!" 
there's a long pause in the air, making you immediately regret raising your voice, dropping the plate in your hand back into the soapy water, "I'm sorry." 
heeseung told you to not let it get like that. he told you to not stress yourself out when you both found out you were pregnant. he knew this would happen. it was inevitable. but you promised him. "Look at me." 
"Oh, hee..." you immediately soften, face falling into your hands once you see the beautiful, huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. he sets the bouquet down on the island, quickly moving to wrap his arms around your crying figure. you quickly accept the embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Why are you crying?" he chuckles, rubbing his hand on your back soothingly. "I'm sorry!" 
"It's okay, love." he pulls you off of him, wiping away your tears. "so pretty." he leans in to kiss you, using his thumbs to wipe the rest of the stray tears. 
Heeseung is so good to you. he always has been. when you met him six years ago, when you married him three years ago, and when you gave him his firstborn a year and a half ago.  his love has been unconditional, unwavering, always consistent. all you could ask for and more. 
"I told you not to stress yourself out. You can ask me for help." he's smiling, despite your continued tears. you feel so awful. "But you're working-" he stops you there, "so are you, love." he knows that being a stay at home mom is a lot, a lot more demanding than his silly little corporate job. "what are you handwashing the dishes for, anyway? we've got a dishwasher." 
"cause, it's a lot to run it..." he sighs, face shifting to a scowl. he hates when you talk about the price of things, bills, anything with money. "It's not, and that's not for you to worry about." it's firm, almost scolding. but you know it's just because of the many times he's had to tell you to not worry about the bills. not that you've seen one in years. 
"Get in bed. I'll finish up." he pulls away then, moving to the sink. you scurry behind him, grabbing a vase to put the flowers in. "Bed, babe. I'll do that too." 
"let me warm up your food-" he doesn't have to say much, turning with a dissatisfied expression across his face as he leans on the counter. "Get upstairs." you know better than to argue after the third time, so, you do as told.
...
he joins you just an hour later, walking in on you fumbling with the baby monitor, making sure it's on and working before you set it on the bedside table. he eyes you, wet hair stuck to your shoulders and neck, saturating the t shirt you have on. 
he grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bathroom. he places you infront of the mirror, reaching for the hair dryer in the cabinet. "Did you even towel dry it? you're soaking." 
"Thought I heard Seung crying..." you mumble, heeseung running a brush through your hair. "That hairdryer- Dyson. it's so expensive. you won't even use it."he grabs a towel, gently drying each lock of your hair, then your neck and shoulders. 
"I do use it!" five times since he got it for you during Christmas. You'd brought it up maybe once, showing him a video on TikTok of some influencer using it. it was probably the millionth video you'd showed him. still, he paid attention. "Sometimes." he agrees, flashing you a playful smile in the mirror. 
"you don't have work to do?" you look at him through the mirror, squeezing the water out of your hair with the towel. "Work? While i'm at home with my wife?" he turns on the hairdryer after, running it over your now damp hair. 
this week he's been coming home without his laptop. spending almost no time in his office downstairs, instead getting into bed with you every night after work. 
you hadn't said it out loud, but he knew you were bothered by sleeping first. sleeping next to an empty space that he only filled from the hours of 1am to 6am. disappearing into his office right after dinner. you continue watching him through the mirror, fond smile on you lips as he finishes. his eyes catch yours, mouthing a playful "what?" before he shifts his eyes back to your hair. 
he turns off the hair dryer, using a brush to smooth out the now dry hair. he guides you out the bathroom, stopping you in front of your shared dresser.
reaching for the bottom of your tee, he pulls it up, only stopping when you step back and push his hands away. "come on, you gotta get out of this. it's wet." 
"I'll do it." "Babe, really." 
you surrender at that, raising your arms so he can lift your shirt above your head and get you a new one. Only he has his gaze locked on yours...trying to remember the last time he was intimate with you. the last time he saw you undressed. you notice his expression change, unfamiliar glint in his eyes. 
had it really been that long? 
"What, hee? you're staring..." you ask worriedly, afraid he might not like what he sees. you damn sure don't look like the woman he married, not after having his child. 
each time you look in the mirror you're reminded, each time you look at your wedding pictures, each time you get naked infront of him, each time you look at your son. 
your arm lays against your chest, holding your breasts as you reach for another shirt. Heeseung's way quicker, grabbing your arm before you can reach it. "Wait."
his lips are on yours seconds later, pulling your body flush against his, trapping you in a very passionate kiss. 
you know what he wants when he kisses you like that. when he pulls you in by your waist and holds your cheek with one hand. when he lifts you up and takes you bed, placing you against the mattress softly. your stomach flutters with excitement, eager to experience a different type of intimacy with him.
he pulls away, pulling at his tie with one hand and letting it fall to the ground, undoing a few buttons of his shirt after.
he connects your lips again as wall as your groins, grinding softly through kisses. it's enough to get you worked up, moaning into the kiss when he gropes at a tit. 
he gives it some love with his mouth too, sucking one and squeezing the other. its enough to stimulate your ducts, breasts tingling as they secrete milk. he purposely squeezes a nipple, milk spilling from the ducts, as you squirm beneath him. his skilled hands force a moan from you, his tongue swirling as he sucks, likely making your other breast leak too. 
his hips rut against yours, grunting at the little bit of friction it gives. he's gotta get out of these slacks, and fast. he pulls his mouth away, kissing down your chest and abdomen, paying special attention to those areas he knows youre insecure about. 
your lower belly that's riddled with stretch marks and hips that look the same from carrying his child. he wouldn't trade you for the world, not when you've given him the best gift on gods earth. a family. 
he pulls your night shorts down with one motion, doing the same with your panties before he spreads your legs. his kisses move to your thighs, stopping when he reaches your core. he moves your hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling before you. "Fuck.." he feels his mouth water just looking, pushing your legs before he dips his head between your thighs. 
six years and every time feels like the first. six years and neither of you can get enough. 
he always takes his time, soft kisses against your pussy to start, soft licks against your clit when he slides his tongue through your folds, huge hands that knead at the flesh of your thighs to stimulate you even more. he gradually moves to sucking, tongue flat against the little bundle of nerves, forcing moan from you.
your eyes flutter closed, sinking further into the mattress as you reach for his hands. 
your fingers intertwine perfectly, much like they did the first time you two met in college. he was sweet then, he's even sweeter now. always, always so compassionate and caring, even more since you've gotten married. 
he watches from between your legs. eyes shut, brows furrowed, mouth agape as you let out the prettiest moans. matching the pretty expression you have. 
he knows you like the back of his hand, sucking your clit just how you like it. your back arching off the bed tells him so. especially when you remove a hand from his, sliding it through his hair instead to swirl your hips. 
"oh, god- hee!"
he can hear your breath quickening. short and shallow through endless curses as your orgasm builds. "fuck, baby, i'm cumming!" it hits you like a truck, heeseung moaning as you cum right on his tongue, nothing else. holding your hips steady so he can eat you through it. through the soft convulsions and quiet moans, hands that grip his and his hair. 
heeseung finally pulls his lips way, rising from the floor with lips coated in your arousal. he doesn't lick them, keeps them wet and moist so he can lean down and kiss you. he's letting you taste yourself as well, sliding his tongue past your lips to give you sloppy, wet kisses. 
you pull at his button up, pulling it from his slacks, moving to remove his belt right after. you pull away from the kiss, pulling at the buttons with frantic hands. "help me, hee..." you mumble, looking up at the man above you. he forces you both up, reaching to unbutton his pants as you work on those damn buttons. 
"take your time, darlin'. Im not going anywhere." he kisses your forehead gently, capturing your lips again once you finish. you push his shirt off his shoulders, only satisfied when you hear it make contact with the wood flooring below. "tell me how you want me." you barely manage to get out between kisses. he doesn't respond for a minute, focusing on kissing you before he makes up his mind. 
"bend over." he pants, catching his breath from the very heated kiss. you do as instructed, turning around to bend over for him. his hands immediately attach to your hips, one hand pressing against the small of your back, guiding you into position. "Arch that back, yeah..." he pulls you back against his dick, hard length sitting right between your ass. he retracts, sliding his length through your folds, coating it in your arousal. 
you can feel him line himself up with your entrance, head of his cock just barely penetrating, pausing before he decides to fully slip inside. a soft cry leaves you,  leaning yourself away from the intrusion that has your walls stretching. "Uh-ah, keep that back arched for me baby." that makes you whine, forcing yourself back into position as he pulls you right back on his cock. "Good girl..." he coos, hand rubbing softly against your back to soothe you, legs already trembling just from him sliding in. 
he takes you painfully slow, pulling half his length out, pushing it back in, in a long drawn out movement. his eyes are stuck right where you suck him back in, despite your little noises that tell him you're struggling with it. he barely has to move his hips, you're pushing back on him likely without even realizing. 
"Fuck," his dick is soaked, coated in your wetness, glistening in the soft light coming from your bedside lamp. He grabs both hips, taking over your soft and cautious movements, replacing them with his own. Still slow, but much deeper, holding your ass to his hips each time he pushes himself back in. 
"Taking it so good, baby." heeseung doesn't know why you're always so caught up in your own thoughts. each time he fucks you like this, you forget all about your silly little insecurities. It's all proof of the woman you are today, anyway. the mother and wife he's built within you. 
"Hee..." you reach a hand back to hold his, heeseung quickly pinning your arm behind your back, hand clasped within yours. His movements increase, throwing his own head back as your body drives him to near madness. you sink further down, hand knitting into the soft fabric of your cream coloured duvet. 
so deep, so big. he's hitting all the right spots, bending over you to reach and grab a tit. he squeezes at the flesh, mouth steady kissing on your shoulder as he fucks you near completion. the both of you. "fuck, baby! harder!" nothing but a word, he happily obliges. he's been waiting for you to say it since he started. "Yeah?" his breaths shallow and short as he fucks into you harder, a loud moan of approval from you forcing a smirk on his lips. "Yes! god, heeseung!" from his lips on your neck, to the way his balls repeatedly slap against your clit, you're already there before you realise. "Like that, yeah, let it out."
you grab at his flexed arms beside you, crying out as you both ride out your orgasm together. Heeseung's hips stutter as cums inside you, sloppy uncoordinated thrusts pushing more waves of pleasure through you. "Shit." He blinks through the haziness coursing through his body, only pulling out when both of your breaths return to normal.
you stay even when heeseung leaves, relaxing your body against the bed. he comes back, turning you back over so he can clean you up, laying next to you right after. 
comfortable silence fills the air, heeseung pulling you into his arms when you snuggle up close. "I love you, hee."
"I love you more, baby." 
...
"Say hi!" you grab your sons arm, waving at the man in the doorway. "My big man! Say hi to uncle Jake." he takes the baby from your arms, bouncing him in his. "Where's your dad, big man? always leaving mommy to do the work, huh?" you move to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker for heeseung.
"Dad is doing laundry." Heeseung emerges, passing Jake the diaper bag. You furrow your brows at that, heeseung hadn't said anything about Jake taking Seung. "Morning." he slips behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Seung is-"
"You need a break." he quickly interjects, eyebrows raising when you don't immediately respond. "What? You don't wanna spend some time with me?" it's sly, the way his hand slips under your shirt to grab the soft flesh of your ass.  "I was the only man in your life at one point, you know." he smiles, moving his hand back to a more appropriate position. "Whatever." you laugh, eyes shifting over to Jake who's preoccupied with your son. You slip past heeseung, going to say your goodbyes. "Thanks, Jake. You really-"
Heeseung's familiar hiss of disapproval stops you. Jake simply laughing, "It's all good. My girlfriend wants to see him anyway. she calls it playing 'house'."
"Marry her and have your own, dude." heeseung comes over, kissing his son’s cheek. "Yeah, yeah." he's always dismissive when the topic comes up, but you know he's just waiting on the right time. "I'll take off then." Jake smiles at the both you before he makes his way to the front door. Heeseung pulls you in as you both wave Jake and your son goodbye. 
"Let's have another one." 
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whoiserenity · 12 hours
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Matt Sturniolo Headcanons
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Here's some headcanons of Matt during your pregnancy. Requested by @cupids-mf-arrow
Enjoy!
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BEFORE FINDING OUT
He would take care of you when you feel cramps and when you vomit and constantly tell you to get it checked up.
"Baby, you need to go to the doctor." Matt said as he handed you a glass of water and some painkillers.
"It'll pass babe, it'll pass." You responded.
FINDING OUT
He would be ecstatic when you tell him and would jump around and yell.
"Baby, I have to tell you something." You said, sitting beside him.
"What is it?" He responded, looking at you.
"I'm..." You looked at him, smiling and he's confused as hell.
"You're what?" He asked, shaking his head for the answer.
"I'm pregnant." He gasped and immediately stood up, holding his hands to his mouth.
"No. No way." He looked up at you as you stood up. He then quickly hugged you, after pulling out of the hug, he jumped around shouting, "I'm gonna be a dad! I'm gonna be a dad!"
TELLING HIS BROTHERS
After finding out, he'd make a call to his brothers, telling them about the news.
"Guess what just happened?" Matt said, looking at his phone.
"What?" His brothers, Chris and Nick, asked in unison.
He turned the phone to you, showing you in the camera as he spoke, "Tell 'em, babe."
You waved to his brothers and greet them as they did the same. "Girl, tell us what happened, you're kinda scaring me." Nick stated.
"Okay. Uhm.." I glanced at Matt, smiling then back to his brothers. "I'm pregnant!"
When you tell them the news, the only thing coming out of Matt's phone speaker are screams.
"No. For real?!" Nick shouted while Matt nodded. "Matt gon' be a baby daddy!" Chris screams as we both laughed at them.
GIVING BIRTH
He wasn't supposed to be inside the room with you. But he paid the doctor $10, 000 dollars. Cash.
"Come on, sweety. You got this." Matt encouraged you as you pushed through. (then you get a miscarriage 🫡. jk.)
You pushed and pushed and screamed out the pain. Throughout the whole labor, he would hold your hand, pat your shoulder, and encourage you along with the doctors and nurses.
After the baby finally came out, he'll tell you that you did so great and thst he was so proud of you.
FIRST WORDS
It's been five months and both you and Matt didn't expect for it to be today that she would say her first words.
Matt was playing with his daughter, doing silly faces here and there as she would laugh.
You both watched them with a smile while you were folding up some clothes.
"Who am I, huh? Who am I? Hmmm?" Matt said in playful voice, rubbing his face on his daughter's stomach as she seemed to like it.
"Papa." The baby muttered as Matt gasped at her words.
"Why?" You asked, chuckling. "She just said her first words!" Matt turned to you, picking up his daughter from the crib. "What?!" You asked, shocked.
"Come on, say it again, honey. Say papa." Matt looked at his daughter.
"Papa!" The baby said, laughing and throwing her hands in the air.
You gasped. "Oh my gosh." You said as Matt looks up at you, smiling.
FIRST BIRTHDAY
After a year, it's finally his daughter's first birthday. He didn't attend work that day.
"Who's turning 1 today? Hmm?" Matt said as he picked up his daughter.
She yelled out things that both you and Matt didn't understand. But you knew she meant herself.
"Yes, you are!" Matt pinched his daughter's cheeks. You walked up to them as Matt said, "Look, mommy's here. Hi, mommy." He held up his daughter's hand and waved it to your direction.
"Come on, baby. You gotta get dressed for your party. Uncle Nick and Uncle Chris are almost here, you wouldn't wanna look like a mess, would you?" You chuckled as you took her from Matt's arms and brought her to the room to dress her up.
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That's all! Thank you for reading my headcanons! I appreciate it! Leave a like if you want to! Feel free to request more!
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emeraldbabygirl · 1 year
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Watching this ‘Over Wyoming’ show or something and Wyoming seems like such a lovely state. The wide open spaces, grassy fields and mountains, the landscape in general just looks so calm and peaceful even the towns do. I would love to live more in the country side the city is not the place for me and rn where I live they are building more stupid housing developments and tearing up fields and such and it’s just not what it used to be and I would love to be in a place with just open sky and a wonderful view of nature and it seems so calm and beautiful. The city is overrated and so chaotic I’d never wanna live in a place like new york yuck, maybe Southern California?? Idk where it’s less busy. Even Montana and Minnesota seems like cute and neat states to live in. But man Wyoming sounds fabulous AND THE NARRATOR MAN WHEN SPEAKING ABOUT DEVIL’S TOWER WAS LIKE LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF WHEN HE SAID VISITORS SEE DEVIL’S TOWER AND FORGET ABOUT MOUNT RUSHMORE AND IT WAS THE JUDGEMENT IN THAT LAUGH THATS EVERYTHING.
Anyway I can just imagine rolling around in giant grassy fields and just looking up at the sky and just breathing in the fresh air I want that so bad. Man the feeling it open lands and just enjoying the feeling to grass and the wind and feeling free and watching the wild animals that sounds amazing 🥺
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feretra · 1 year
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as one indigenous mun to another? go give love to @postguilt, please. they’re putting up with some bullshit today because how dare they share their experiences and it not be centered on white voices.
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Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months
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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji doesn't want another baby, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you come to terms with it.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Toji doesn’t get baby fever. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one that squeals around a cute baby. Toji already knows parenthood, and he’s changed way too many diapers and done way too many late night feedings to know that he never wants to do them again.
Babies are cute, but at this point in life, he’d rather just be an uncle. He gets to hold and play with the baby, but gets to give them back when an accident happens. Unclehood is much better than parenthood, dare he say. He gets to do all the fun stuff and none of the bad stuff.
He doesn’t really want to do it all again, and there’s nothing that you can do to change his mind.
“Toji!” You yell from Megumi’s bedroom, and the man walks to the bedroom, annoyed. The man loves you to death, but he hears his name way too many times in this home.
He sighs, leaning against the doorframe as you open up a box. He makes his annoyance clear as he asks, “What?”
“I’m cleaning out Megumi’s closet, and look what I found.” You hold up the cutest onesie, one that fit six month old baby Megumi, something that feels like eons ago. Toji raises his brows, a smile coming to his lips.
“What? Are you thinking of having one?” Toji asks, and he’s surprised when you shake your head. It’s the first time you shake your head to that question. “Then what’s this?”
“Shouldn’t we donate it? Since we’re not having a baby, we don’t need these.” You tell him, and Toji can’t help but agree. There’s no way Megumi is going to fit into one of these onesies, even if he truly tried. 
“Let me help you.” He says, sitting down on the floor with you. You look at him, perking up your brows.
“What came over you? Suddenly being so helpful.” You chuckle, and Toji rolls his eyes as he grabs a onesie from the box. Why does it feel so small? He didn’t recall them being so small. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”
“Whatever happened to you wanting a baby? Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” Toji responds, wondering why now of all time you aren’t blabbering about how a baby would be a perfect addition to the house. These clothes are just so small and so adorable…
“I mean, we agreed to not have kids when we got married since you were done with that. It’s just unfair of me to ask for a baby when I know you don’t want more… So I accepted it.” You smile at him, feeling proud of yourself for this newfound maturity. Toji’s glad you’ve come to terms with it, because he was sure getting sick of it. 
He reaches into the box again, pulling out a pair of socks. He purses his lips together before looking at you. He didn’t remember babies having such small feet. “I’m glad that you–”
“I mean what’s even cool about babies? They’re cute, and nothing else. Then you have to…” You continue talking about the cons of babies, while Toji pulls out more and more clothes from the box. It seems to be getting smaller and smaller. His heart gets weaker with each item and he fights back the wicked thoughts. He can’t possibly be having… baby fever.
“Babies aren’t that great. Never have I looked at Megumi and thought ‘Oh I wish you were a stinky baby again.’ ” Toji says, but he pauses when he realizes that he’s had that thought before, way too many times. You chuckle before you quietly continue your task. Toji chews on the inside of his cheek, when he realizes something that he wishes he could push out of his mind.
He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but you said you were done with asking. The umpteenth time is the charm or whatever they say. Toji hopes that by saying, “Oh, Megumi was just the chubbiest and sleepiest baby.” You’ll come to your senses. You have to go back to your duty of being the wife that annoys her husband for a baby, and this time around he’ll finally agree.
“Yeah, they’re sleepy until it’s three in the morning, then they’ll wake up.” You argue, not noticing what Toji is trying to do.
“He had the cutest sneezes.” Toji brings up.
“Yeah, means they’re sick because they put their hands on everything and then shove them in their mouths.”
“He was so cute when he laughed…”
“Have you heard how they cry? That easily outweighs that.” You don’t even notice how he’s putting the clothes back into the box. You keep taking out the same clothes, wondering why he had so many of the same set.
“For fuck’s sake! I want a baby.” Toji finally confesses, ashamed that he’s the one that has to bring it up. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your lips before you practically jump on him to kiss him.
You kiss him over and over again, and Toji doesn’t want to fight you on it right now, but he has to put his hand over your lips when he senses the kiss leading to something else. He tells you, “Not in Megumi’s bedroom.”
“Right.” You laugh out of embarrassment, getting up from the floor and giving him a hand to do the same. 
He’s never seen you use so much force before as you drag him out of the bedroom. But it’s nice to see that you hadn’t really changed your mind, after all, that makes his job easier.
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
Text
Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter One - Olivia Ricciardo
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.6K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
Series Masterlist
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Olivia Ricciardo came running out of daycare with a wide grin on her face. Her grandparents just wished her dad could have been there to see it as she ran into their arms. It wasn’t his fault; even once his little girl was born, he still had a job to do.
Daniel was there for half of the week at least. But for the rest of the week, his parents took care of her, feeding her, letting her sleep in the bedroom she had in their house, and transporting her to and from daycare. Every time her dad would leave, Olivia would scream and cry for at least a couple of hours. At least until her grandparents had her facetiming her father and Daniel could talk to his little girl.
This time, when Olivia came running out to her grandparents car, she immediately asked if she could call her daddy. “I wanna tell him about the new friend I made!” she said through a wide grin as she bounced in her seat.
As her grandma drove, her grandpa pulled out his phone, calling Daniel. He kept a hold of the phone until his son picked up. After saying hello to him, he passed the phone back to Olivia. “Hi daddy!” She called, but Daniel could hardly see her from how much she was moving the phone around.
“Hi, Livvy!” Daniel grinned at his daughter. He’d missed her so much this week. His short break the year before, before he had been placed in the AlphaTauri, he’d spent the entire time with Olivia. He’d only gone to the races on the weekends, and since Olivia only went to daycare on Tuesday to Friday, she went with him.
But now that Daniel was driving again, he left Olivia with his parents. He didn’t want to take her out of daycare to be at his races; that was how she socialized. And this was proof of that.
“Daddy, I made a new friend!” Olivia shouted.
Daniel couldn’t stop his grin from becoming wider at that. “That’s great news Livvy!” He shouted, telling the news to whoever was near him.  
Suddenly the phone moved away from her dad. Olivia watched as somebody else grabbed hold of the phone, holding it in front of his face. “Hi, Livia!” Said her Uncle Max as he held the phone up in front of his face. As usual, he wore his Redbull hat. This one had a number One on it. Olivia had several Redbull hats. She had several with her dad’s number and one of Max’s old ones, with the thirty-three on it. “Your dad tells me you made a new friend!”
“Yeah, uncle Max. His name is Milo and he shared his crayons with me so that I could do my colouring book.”
"That's great, Livia!" Max said.
He said his goodbyes and passed the phone back to Daniel, who was only too happy to be talking to his daughter again. "Maybe you could invite Milo round for a playdate when you're back from your mums house, Jelly Bean," he said and the smile dropped from Olivias face.
It was so secret who Olivias favourite parents was. Even though she rarely got to see him, she loved her dad more than anything. Daniel didn't know what happened at his ex's place in what made Olivia hate it so much, but he had no right to stop it.
If he tried, his ex could easily pull up the fact that Daniel was never there and his parents saw Olivia more than he did. If Olivia would tell him why she hated it, maybe he could do something that would stop her from having to spend every other week with her mother.
"But, daddy, I want to be there when you get home," Olivia said, wearing a pout.
Daniel hated seeing his little girl like that. He loved her more than anything and never wanted to see the smile drop from her face. His Olivia, he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.
The people surrounding him indicated that it was time to go, but Daniel kept smiling as he looked at the phone. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay, Jelly Bean?"
"Okay," she said and passed the phone back to her grandfather without saying goodbye.
Daniel smile turned sad as he looked at his father. "Make sure she has snuffles before she goes," he said sadly before saying goodbye to his parents. They knew what to do by now, they'd been sending her to her mother’s house for the last five years.
“What’re we having for dinner tonight, Livvy?” Her grandma asked as they pulled into the driveway.
The scowl dropped from Oliva’s face and she started bouncing in her seat, chanting ‘turkey dinosaurs!’ over and over again.
Turkey dinosaurs it was.
***
“Milo, honey, can you feed the cat please!” Y/N shouted, pulling the phone away from her ear as she turned back to the stove.
Milo came running down the stairs, already in his dinosaur pyjamas and dinosaur slippers. He ran to the front door, where the cat bowl was, and used the tiny, novelty shovel to scoop the cat food into the bowl. It was a little too much, but Poppy (the cat) wouldn’t mind.
“Wash your hands for dinner!” She shouted and placed the phone back between her shoulder and her ear.
“Mum, I don’t need your money,” she said as she plated up the Italian dish she had made. Well, it was spaghetti with carbonara, with turkey dinosaurs on the side to get Milo to eat it.
She heard her mother sigh down the phone. “Well, if you won’t take our money, your father and I are going to visit,” she said and hung up, without saying so much as a goodbye.
Placing her phone down, Y/N put the plates on the table and waited for Milo to come running in. He jumped into his chair and picked up his knives and fork. “I made a new friend today, momma!” Called Milo as he put down his knife and fork and picked up the turkey tyrannosaurus. He bit the head off and roared with the food still in his mouth, leading his mother to scold him.
“Tell me about your new friend, Mi,” she said as she ate her own dinner (like Milo, Y/N had a turkey dinosaur on her plate. It was the triceratops, Milo’s least favourite).
So, Milo told his mother all about his new friend, Olivia Ricciardo. He boasted about how he shared his pencils and Miss Green didn’t even have to ask him. Olivia sat beside him as they coloured, telling him all about her dad who drove race cars.
“Yeah, momma! Her dad is a famous race car driver! How cool is that?”
“Very cool, Milo,” Y/N answered as she picked up his plate to clear up. Of course, she didn’t believe that Milo’s new friend’s father was a famous race car driver. That was the sort of things kids said to impress each other. Just six months before Milo had told some boys that his father was a famous football player.
Milo stayed sat at the kitchen table, kicking his feet. “I can’t wait for daycare,” he said to himself as he knocked his fist against the table in time to the music.
Y/N couldn’t stop herself from grinning as Milo continued talking about daycare. It hadn’t had an easy time making friends, but now he had one and she couldn’t be happier.
As soon as she was finished with the washing up, Y/N ruffled his hair with her soapy hands. “Bedtime, little man,” she said, and Milo jumped out of his chair and ran up the stairs.
He ran into his bedroom and dove under the covers. He grabbed a hold of Rexy, his tyrannosaurus teddy bear, and Spike, his Stegosaurus teddy bear, and held them close. He watched as his mum walked in and pulled a book from his shelf. “How do we feel about the magician’s nephew?” She asked as she pulled the little book from the shelf.
“Yay, Narnia!” Milo called as Y/N sat on the end of the bed and cracked open the book. Just a few months ago Milo had been complaining about picture books, since one of the boys in his class had started reading actual books. So, Y/N was working with him so that he could read ordinary books on his own.
“Momma,” Milo began, interrupting her as she read. “Can Olivia come round for a playdate?”
Y/N placed a dinosaur bookmark between the pages. “Only if Olivia’s mummy and daddy say it’s okay,” she said as she put the book back and switched on his dinosaur night light.
“Olivia doesn’t like her mummy,” Milo replied as she turned on his side, still holding Spike and Rexy.
Y/N walked over and kissed the top of his head as she tucked him in. “Well, I’ll just have to speak to her daddy then, won’t I,” she said and stood up straight. “Goodnight, Munchkin,” she said as Milo turned towards the wall, his eyes shut.
“Goodnight, momma.”
Y/N walked out of the room, leaving the door open just a little. As she left Poppy the cat ran in and jumped on his bed (a dinosaur blanket, of course), curling up by his feet.
With Milo now asleep, Y/N went back downstairs. She sat at the kitchen table, pulled out her laptop and, like she did every night, began writing.
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye
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hypnos333 · 4 months
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Helloooo! I saw that your requests were open for Hazbin- how about a reader who's a seraphim? Kind of Lucifer's protégé/child way before the creation of Eden, Adam, and Lilith.
And he just kind of left them up there alone and neglected because of her association/kind of Dad!Lucifer. So, it's kind of angsty seeing as how Lucifer was a better Dad to Charlie and the reader grew with envy and fell into that ring along with her brother (I've been seeing hc/rumor a lot) Cain.
What would happen their first meeting again? If this is too much I don't really mind so no worries! Have a nice day and thanks for reading!!
A/N: I’m sorry but I go by biblical too so this might be different but same concept and storyish
Like father like daughter
Lucifer x daughter Reader
Synopsis: Your dad left you young now you left him
How it started
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You are my Sunshine My only sunshine
You make me happy When skies are grey
Little you giggles at your father’s little song for you and only you. You were an angel whose mother was long gone leaving just you and your father. You made grabby hands towards him making his heart melt before lift you up.
“Boop” you cutely said as you boop his nose making him chuckle. “Boop” he said back making you giggle this time.
“Okay baby it’s time for me to go to work so Uncle Castiel is gonna watch you okay baby?” He asked you making you nod happily before rushing to your uncles arms.
You never knew that was the last time you would see him and with that you cried and cried for your dad until Sera and the other Angels showed you he forgot about you, he had a wife and daughter….
You watched as he singed the same lyrics he sang to you to her. You were only 5 and parentless watching your father abandon you but staying for another that his. That’s when you grew up odd with another angel. You were evil or as they say a bad apple.
You were Cain’s secret friend encouraging him to kill his brother Abel. That when you were sent down in hell where your dad is but you never cared to look for him finding some friends of your own.
You were older and more mature then her but she was the youngest, and you were the oldest. Does that mean you had to made the sacrifice to be left?
Even so it hurts and your growing hate towards your father and sister grew stronger by the centuries.
With Lucifer though he was trying everywhere to find you, You were no where to seen in heaven and no where on earth so you must be in hell. But even then he couldn’t find you.
You grew close to Cain when he came to hell after being full of pride and thinking he could live without God and with his punishment. You saw him as a brother the only family you considered. You were never gonna be ready to let your other family in your life and you meant that.
When you were both getting ice cream You heard something. “___!” you turned around to see lucifer huffing and puffing finally catching up to you.
“My Sunshine! Woah have you grown into a-” you punched him in the face. You the eldest of Lucifer punched him in the face and my god it felt great to do. Your unbelievable smile widen as you saw his pain. Call it fucked up as you will but you almost laugh on how pathetic he was and to believe you looked up you him.
“Don’t… Don’t call me that. I thought we both grew out of that nickname a long time ago” You mumbled before turning away from him having nothing else to say.
“___ I was trying to protect you! Don’t you understand I was going to come back for you. I-“COME BACK TO ME? NOW THATS BULLSHIT “DAD” BECAUSE SPENDING TIME WITH YOUR OTHER BORN WAS NOT LOOKING FOR ME” You interrupted him turning into your full demon form Lucifer looked at you in shocked and stunned.
“I was 5 waiting for my own father to come home” You stated calmly as Lucifer looked at you with tears in his eyes.
“Please give me another chance, I love you too much to let you go” He pleaded taking you hand but you yanked it straight away.
“You gonna know how it feels to let go of the person you” You growled before walking away from him.
“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please…. Don’t take my sunshine away” He prayed as tears slipped down his eyes reaching out to you knowing your already far from him. knowing he lost his firstborn hurt
“Daddy! teach me how to dance!” A little you say as Lucifer looked up as a little you held your hand towards him he tried to reached but then you just faded. That little girl was long gone the moment he didn’t take you with him.
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viennakarma · 5 months
Text
Wreck my plans (that's my man)
Part 2 of Say Something
Lewis Hamilton x Reader | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: Juggling a new life as a divorced woman, a toddler and maybe a new (old) love.
Word count: 4.5k
Tags: Female reader, new love, a kinda asshole Lewis, co-parenting relationship, smut, oral sex (f receiving), a lot of spanish pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader, Ex!Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Notes: I know some of you wanted forgiveness for Lewis, and another bunch of you wanted Toto Wolff but I blindly opened the doc and these 4 thousand words just happened. If you really want an alternate ending (forgiving Lewis), drop something in my inbox and I might write a lil something for you ;)
Find me on Twitter!
“Look, mama!” Luna pointed the little finger at the big poster of George Russell, “Uncle Joje!”
“Yep, that’s uncle George, my love!”
“And Dada! Dada!” She pointed to the next big poster, a big picture of Lewis wearing the team gear.
It was the first time you went back to a Grand Prix, in a little more than two years. And it was Luna’s first time ever attending. You and Lewis had a great co-parenting relationship, the world knew about Luna, but the Silverstone GP was going to be the first time she’d be seen publicly. You knew Lewis had hired the best security team just for this, and he had called you with a confident pep talk the night before.
As soon as the car stopped, you pulled Luna closer.
“Baby, stay close to mama, yes? We’re going to see Dada and Papa Anthony too, ok?”
Your daughter nodded but you knew she didn’t really understand, so you just smiled at her and opened the door. You could feel the flashes popping around the two of you, and could imagine everyone wondering what Lewis’ ex wife was doing there.
The bodyguards walked you and Luna over to the Mercedes’ hospitality. You found Lewis in the privacy of his little driver’s room.
“Dada!” Luna squealed as soon as she saw him, casual jeans and the team shirt.
You smiled, setting your little girl down so she could run to her father’s arms. Lewis smiled big, that one smile he only directed to his daughter. Lewis picked her up, kissing her face and hugging her.
“Hi, Lewis!” You greeted him with a side hug, since Luna was still in his arms.
“Hi, Y/N! Are you two ok? Was the trip here alright?” He asked, attentive.
“Yes, thank you. How is your schedule? You wanna stay with her a little?” You asked.
“Yes, I want to be with her. My dad’s at the hospitality too, he’s dying to see Luna.”
You gave him your daughter’s bag, with nappies, toys, drinks and snacks. You told him to call if needed, anything. Kissing your baby’s cheek, you left Lewis’ room to give them a little space and privacy.
Walking around aimlessly, seeing the energy flowing was kind of fun. You walked by Ferrari and greeted both drivers, who you had known back when you were married to Lewis. A good part of the grid had changed, but the few from before still recognised you and talked to you.
You were going back to Mercedes to check on Luna when you hit someone chest to chest.
“Oh, god! I’m so sorry!” You whispered.
“Y/N” he greeted you. You met the gaze of beautiful brown eyes, in an almost green kind of shade.
“Fernando! Hi!” You finally recognized the spaniard.
You had met Fernando the same night you had met Lewis, introduced by Sebastian and his wife after you created the project for their family home.
“It’s good to see you,” Fernando said, still holding your shoulder.
“You too.”
“I’m sorry about the divorce.”
“Uh, don’t worry. It’s been a while, Lewis and I are friends now.”
Fernando nodded, his eyes on your face. You stared at his eyes, trying to find something to say, to fill in the awkward silence.
“You’re just as beautiful as ever,” he whispered almost in a daze. You felt the blush creeping up your face.
“Thank you, you look handsome too,” you said, and you phone started ringing, you checked to see it was Lewis calling, “sorry, I gotta go,”
“See you around?” Fernando asked.
“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Fernando.”
You started walking away feeling butterflies in your stomach, like a silly teenager. You were walking but as you looked back, Fernando was still there staring at your distancing figure.
Fernando never forgot your pretty smile. He had met you so long ago, in a party hosted by Sebastian and his wife. Fernando had been enchanted by you, by the way your presence lit up the room, by how smart you sounded, by how clever you were. The problem was Fernando had gotten to the party late, and when he arrived, you had already met Lewis, fully entranced by the British man's charisma.
Fernando still had a silly crush on you when you were dating Lewis and he saw you around, but after you got married, he had forced himself to move on.
Now it felt like some sort of miracle, bumping into you again.
He didn’t lose any time. As he went back to the Aston Martin garage, he called someone.
It was a couple of hours later and you were by the Mercedes garage chatting with Anthony and keeping an eye on Luna who was running around with George and Lewis, greeting engineers and mechanics, enchanting everyone with her charm.
Someone wearing green came into the garage and everyone stopped, looking at the intruder from the Aston Martin team. The Aston Martin lady handed you a big bouquet of lilies and excused herself.
Every single pair of eyes were set on you and the mysterious bouquet. With your face red, you pulled the card, opening.
“Glad to see you again, hermosa. - Fernando”
You smiled, covering your face. On the back of the card was a phone number.
“Who’s that from?” Lewis asked and suddenly everyone was silent, tension rising up.
“Lewis,” you said between gritted teeth, “you’re making a scene.” Lewis seemed to realize everyone had an eye on you two, so you just turned to Anthony and said, “can you keep an eye on Luna for a couple of minutes please?”
After confirmation, you walked inside, taking your bouquet with you, and putting the number on your phone.
“Who’s it from?” Lewis followed you inside.
“It’s none of your fucking business, Lewis.”
“It is because you’re the mother of my kid.”
“Which means the only topic concerning you is our kid!” You whispered angrily.
“You’re dating, now?”
“Fuck off, Lewis!” You exclaimed, a surge of anger coming through your chest, “Don’t come at me all high and mighty now. You cheated on me, and I still let you be close to my daughter, and I still treat you with respect! I kept the secret of why our marriage ended to save your reputation and we only have a good relationship for her sake!”
You knew the words struck a nerve because his chest was heaving. You had been respectful to Lewis ever since the pregnancy because you wanted your daughter to grow up in a safe and happy environment. But that was where you drew the line.
“My life doesn’t revolve around you anymore.”
Leaving Lewis behind, you went to a room in the hospitality and managed to send a thank you text to Fernando.
You ended up accepting going on a date with Fernando after a few weeks of calling and texting. He ended up going to your place in Edinburgh for a cozy dinner, in a week Luna had gone traveling with Lewis for the summer break.
After the divorce you faced a lot of backlash from Lewis’ fans, even if they didn’t know any details, they still blamed you for breaking their idol’s heart. A few man had flirted with you here and there, but pregnant for nine months and then raising a baby after, you didn’t have the time or energy to find romance. Dealing with the aftermath of your divorce with a world superstar athlete had been something else.
So you had been living a low profile life, one that Fernando fully respected. He and you opted for cooking dinner yourselves, preparing a pasta dish with lots of pomodoro sauce and cheese.
He was easy to talk to. So openly into you, complimenting you, talking about how pretty and how interesting you are. The Spanish charm was so real and delightful, after years of feeling rejected. 
“Can I ask you something?” You asked, over a glass of wine while Fernando mixed a saucepan.
“Anything.”
“Why are you interested in me?” You sounded honestly confused. 
You were a divorced woman, with a toddler, still trying to figure out the relationship you had with your ex, and living under the radar after having your face plastered all over the media. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was really into you or if it was some sort of vendetta against Lewis. You knew that despite them being on good terms now, there’s history between them, and many layers of rivalry you weren’t privy to, since it happened long before they met you.
“Is this to get back at Lewis in some way? Because I’d like to manage my expectations if that’s the case.”
He understood why you would be guarded and suspicious of his intentions. Your last relationship had imploded in a way that he could only imagine left you devastated. It must look off, a known rival of your ex-husband sweeping in and showing romantic interest. But Fernando didn’t mind showing you his true intentions as long as you allowed him.
Fernando turned the stove off, and walked around the kitchen island, standing in front of you, so close he was almost between your legs.
“It has nothing to do with him because I have always been interested in you,” he whispered like a secret, seeing you confused frown, he kept talking, “remember the night we met? Lewis left early, we went to the garden, and sat down by the fountain. We shared a bottle of wine and a cigarette. Just me and you watching the sun rise.”
“Fernando…” you whispered back, remembering. Of course you knew about that, but for so long your life was entangled to Lewis, that the memory of that night was only attached to him in your brain.
But that had happened. You and Fernando had talked late into the night, chatting about life and the future, sitting barefoot on the grass, passing a wine bottle between you. Fernando didn’t flirt with you that day, he just chatted.
At the time you were so infatuated with Lewis already, that you didn’t see what was right under your nose.
“And for years after that,” Fernando gulped, looking a bit guilty, “I wondered if I had gone to the party earlier, if I had met you first, wouldn’t it be me by your side?”
“You’ve been into me all these years?” You asked, shocked.
“I have been in love all these years.”
You held his face, pulling him into you, kissing him. He was shocked at first, but as soon as it wore off, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush into him. With the other hand, he cradled your head by the nape, his lips leaving your mouth, to kiss down your neck and nip at your earlobe, which had you moaning softly, melting against him.
“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he apologized, taking a step back.
You were panting softly as he stared at you, red face and lips, hair a little disheveled from his hand.
“Fernando,” you stood up, holding his hand, “come back here.”
You pulled him back, pressing your lips into his. He held you close, flush against his chest, opening his lips and deepening the kiss. You felt hot all over.
“I have dreamed about this, diosa.” He moaned into your lips.
“Can we-” you muttered between kisses, “can we skip dinner?”
You turned around to go back to the living room, hearing Fernando hearty laugh, and he immediately hugged you from behind, kissing your shoulder and neck. Finally making it to the sofa, you sat down. Fernando just knelt in front of you, pushing your dress up.
“Dessert first, sí?”
Laughing, you nodded, kicking your panties after he pushed them down your legs. Fernando bit into your thighs, and you moaned at the feel of his beard on your skin. With his head between your thighs, he mouthed you, licking a stripe into your cunt. Using a hand to open you up, he lapped your pussy like a man starved, pressing face, nose and tongue into your wetness. You had gone so long without another person, that now you were mushy under his ministrations. He still couldn’t get enough, so he put one of your legs over his shoulder, diving deeper, tongue over your clit and finger entering your cunt.
“Fuck, Nando. Too good, too good,” you gripped his hair, grinding on his face. He curled his fingers up inside you, finding your g-spot, making you shake, “I’m so close, baby. So, so close.”
He latched on to your clit, and you came hard, shaking, hips pressing into his face as you tried to come down. You were panting, breathless, as you came down from your high. Fernando stood up, sitting by your side, kissing you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and he held you.
You cupped the bulge in his pants, and he kept kissing you face gently, holding you in his arms like he wanted to never let go.
“We should take this to the bedroom,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps arise in your skin.
You two stumbled to the bedroom, laughing as you pulled each piece of clothing off, tossing them to the floor. You were fully naked by the time the door closed behind you in the bedroom.
You didn’t actually lay in the bed, since Fernando made you keep one foot on the floor and pushed your other leg on the mattress, leaving you open for him.
“Dios, I want to keep you in this bed for days until I have tasted all of you, cariño,” he said, running a calloused hand up and down from your back all the way to your butt, pressing his fingers over your cheeks, making you moan.
“Nando, please fuck me, just- I need you, please,” you begged, feeling the way he lined his cock to tease your entrance but not actually putting in, just coating himself with your wetness.
Then finally, he pushed inside, slowly, your walls pulling him in a perfect tight grip. The two of you cursed as you adapted to the feel of him inside, of having someone fucking you for the first time in years.
Fernando started fucking you softly, and you let him manhandle you as he pulled you back to stand up, your back against his chest, one of his hands snaking around your middle to keep him pressed to your backside and the other hand cradled your face by the jaw, forcing you to look ahead.
“Mírate, cariño (look at you, dear)” he whispered, making you face ahead, finding the full length mirror on the other side of the room, you could see perfectly, Fernando fucking you from behind, his sweaty face above your shoulder, your tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and his hands claiming your body like you were a fucking masterpiece, “you look so pretty taking my cock.”
You looked at the mirror, his hand keeping you up like a toy and he started pounding into you, and you could only moan his name as you felt the orgasm buildup, you threw your hand back, holding his head and pulling his hair and your other hand down to your clit as his thrusts became harder and slower. You felt yourself clench around him, coming hard as he whispered in your ear.
“Oh, you feel so good, hermosa. I bet it feels so good coming around my cock does it not?” He talked you through your high.
“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Please, baby.” You moaned and that did it for him, and you had him cumming with a couple of sloppy thrusts.
You two fell on the bed, breathless.
“Goddamn, Nano, you’re going to ruin my life,” You whispered.
“I’m happy to be of service,” he joked and you ended up laughing out loud, him accompanying you with a few giggles.
You two showered, and then dressed in robes, ate dinner on the living room floor, sharing the wine straight from the bottle just like the first time you met. 
After talking for what felt like hours, he took you back to bed, feasting on your cunt until he pulled two more orgasms from you, and then fucking you slowly. Mouth on your nipples and a hand keeping your hips high as he fucked into you. You held onto him for dear life, fingers tangled on his soft hair and kissed him whenever he gave you the opportunity. He worshiped your body like you were the only woman to ever exist, intense eye contact and praising you every step of the way.
The next morning you woke up naked, spent and happy. You barely had the time to feel Nando’s absence in your bed when he entered the room, carrying a big tray with breakfast.
“¡Buenos días!” He greeted you with a peck and set the tray in front of you. There was coffee, juice, toast and cheese.
“Buenos días, baby” you said, lazily taking a sip of coffee, “this is nice. I’ve never been surprised with breakfast in bed before.”
“You deserve it, you took me so well last night, hermosa.” He kissed you quickly again, and you blushed because of his words.
You kept eating when he went to the opposite side of the room to take a phone call. You spoke intermediate Spanish because of work, but you didn’t pry in his conversation, instead focusing on recharging your energies.
“Duty calls?” You asked as he came back. He only nodded, which made you a little sad, “well, I was going to ask you to stay the weekend, but I understand you’re busy.”
“I’ll cancel my plans.” He shrugged.
“No, no, you don’t have to.” You said quickly, feeling guilty for messing with his schedule.
“Do you want me to spend the weekend?” He asked softly. And you just nodded, not wanting to be the cause of him getting in trouble with work. “Then I’ll spend the weekend.”
He immediately got into a phone call again, and from what you could gather, he was rescheduling his commitments for the next week.
“Why did you do that?” You reprimanded him, but deep down you were kinda giddy because he was going to stay the weekend.
“You’re a priority, not a second thought.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. “Besides, I’ll never say no to spending more time with you, cariño.”
Throughout the next six months, you and Nando kept in touch and met here and there whenever Lewis had Luna over. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend when you spent a week with him in a secluded villa close to the beach in Spain. It’s not that you didn’t want Fernando to meet Luna, but you two were still figuring out your relationship and you didn’t want to introduce them and in case he ended up not sticking around for the long run.
“Are you sure?” You asked him suddenly one night when you two were cuddling on the balcony, staring at each other and at the sky.
“Sure of what?”
“Are you sure you wanna be with me, Fernando?” You asked absentmindedly, running your palm up and down his back.
“Yes, I am sure.”
“Why, though? I come with a kid and a lot of baggage?” As you said the words, Fernando pulled your hand and kissed your palm, putting it against his cheek, looking into your eyes.
“Because I want you.”
“Even with all the complications? Even if we never find a way to go public?”
“I don’t mind if I have to spend the rest of our lives reassuring you. I’m with you because I want you, simple as that” he said with his serious voice and thick accent, as a lump stuck on your throat, “I’m not with you because of what you look like by my side or what you can do for me. I’m with you because I love you.”
Your tears fell down and Fernando caught them with his lips, kissing your cheeks and tears away. It was so good and so safe, you never wanted to leave his side.
“The rest of our lives, eh?” You giggled, “I’m not gonna lie, I like the sound of that.”
“Bueno. I like the sound of that too.”
“Gracias, Nano. Yo te amo y te deseo también. (Thank you, Nano. I love you and I desire you too)”
“Wait-” he pushed himself up, “you speak Spanish?”
“Sí, lo hablo. (Yes, I do)” You laughed out loud at his dumbfounded face, and he held your wrists up above your head.
“Todo este tiempo hablaste español? (All this time you spoke spanish?)” He clicked his tongue, “eres tan mala y te voy a castigar. (You're so bad and I'm gonna punish you)”
You squealed as he carried you back inside, tossing you on the bed.
Eventually, you made up your mind about telling Lewis. Not because he had to know, but from a standpoint that he should know for the sake of Luna. So you stopped him one day when he came to drop off Luna.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You asked after greeting your baby, “Luna, why don’t you take your new toys inside while Mommy and Daddy chat a little?” You watched your girl run inside, “Careful! The porch is slippery!”
“What happened?” Lewis asked, putting both hands on his pockets.
“I’m seeing someone.”
Your words made his stomach drop. The dreaded day had come. Lewis had noticed how you looked happier and healthier than before, how you were wearing more makeup and pretty stylish clothes. The other day you had a mysterious tan on your body when he came to drop Luna off, way too strong tan for Scotland, anyway.
You are one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, he found it a miracle it took you so long to find someone. Maybe deep down Lewis thought you two could mend your relationship.
“Who?” Was all he said.
“Fernando.”
“Fernando?” He frowned, “who’s Fernando?”
“Alonso.” You bit your lip, waiting for an explosive reaction, but Lewis went silent, thinking.
“I can’t believe this. He’s just using you to target me, can’t you see?”
“So that’s all you see me as? An object? A ploy crafted to only be used for you or against you?” You asked, crossing your arms defensively.
“That’s not what I mean! He’s- he’s evil, you know that!” Lewis bared his teeth, getting angrier by the second.
“I don’t. That’s not how he is to me.” You shrugged.
“Do you have any idea how messy this will look when it comes out? Are you ready to face the consequences of this stupid adventure to get back at me?”
His words made you raise your walls, defensive, that sounded dangerously like a threat. You remained collected, because if Lewis wanted to go low, then you’d go lower.
“I’ll let this one slide, but it sounded dangerously close to a fucking threat,” you started, your voice so cold it sent shivers up his spine, “This had nothing to do with you. Nothing. But if this information leaks, I’ll know who did it. And if you do this to damage my image to the world or try and force my hand into leaving him, then everyone will finally know why we divorced, and how the other woman kept harassing me while I was pregnant!”
“What?” His expression dropped. 
He didn’t know because you didn’t tell him, because after a few months of mockery and threats through texts, you changed your number and it stopped. You still had the screenshots though.
“Luna will always be my greatest priority, and I love my baby girl. But my life has revolved around hers ever since I was pregnant, and before that my life revolved around you,” you felt a lump in your throat, eyes watering, “can I have this one thing for me? Is it selfish wanting to be loved?”
“I do. I love you.” He said, his voice wavering too.
“No, you don’t.” You shook your head, “you loved the idea of someone living solely for you. You loved that I was there during the good and the bad, picking up the pieces when you were down and popping the champagne when you were up. You loved that I loved you.”
You looked back, where Luna was calling you from the door.
“I am with Fernando now, and as Luna’s parents, I just didn't want you to be blindsided,” you turned around but looked at him over your shoulder, “don’t go ruining my future a second time.”
He flinched before your words. You knew it would cut deep, but you were tired of that conversation and his entitlement to your life and decisions.
A few weeks later, you introduced Luna to Fernando, and to your surprise, they got along so well. Probably because he bought her a lot of presents. She liked his presence most of the times, despite feeling jealous sometimes when he hugged you or kissed your cheeks.
When you and Fernando made it to a one year anniversary, you two adopted a kitten who had been abandoned by the road. Luna fell immediately in love with the pet, which found home with you. For Christmas, Nando’s gift to Luna was to install a swing and a see-saw on the garden, which ultimately made her completely enchanted by him, asking him to play all the time whenever they were at your place at the same time.
You were sitting on his lap while Luna played with the cat, throwing toys around.
“How would you feel about a baby?” You asked him. He straightened up, searching your eyes.
“Are you pregnant?” He sounded shocked.
“Of course not, tonto! (silly)” You giggled, “I’m just- mulling over the idea, wanting your opinion, you know.”
“Yes, I want more kids if you want too,” he said honestly, his hand softly caressing the side of your hip.
“Mhm,” you nuzzled into his neck.
“Your question came with good timing, you know, I have been thinking,” he mumbled, thinking, “Do you want me to retire?”
“What? Are you insane? You love racing, it’s like- it’s in your blood! You know I do-”
“That’s not what I asked,” Fernando interrupted you, “I asked if you want me to retire? We could move in together, spend more time together, I could move here.”
“You’d drop your sunny and warm Spain for Scotland?” Your voice was laced with doubt.
“I’d drop anything for you, don’t you see?” He lowered his voice, closer to your ear, “besides, we could always go back and forth here and Spain. I’d do it if it means I get to make love to you every day, and wake up by your side every morning.”
“You’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were deep red.
“You love it.”
“That I do.”
“That sounds tempting but I could never ask you to stop racing, it’s literally your favorite thing!”
“You are my favorite thing.”
“Fernando…” you whined and he laughed.
“Ok, let’s meet in the middle, sí?” He proposed, kissing your cheek, “if you get pregnant, I drop everything. Meanwhile, we let things run their course as it is, ok?”
“That’s perfect, mi amor” You laid back on his chest, watching Luna playing.
Headcanons | Another universe…
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feirceangel · 2 months
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Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.
So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!
Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)
Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.
Word Count: 1,737
Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.
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"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.
"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."
Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"
"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."
Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."
The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."
Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.
Always plans within plans within plans.
It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.
House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.
The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.
Until now, apparently.
A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.
He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.
And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.
He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.
~~~
Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.
Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.
So much more colour than Feyd is used to.
His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.
"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.
"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."
Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.
"As I said, it's an honour."
His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.
"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.
"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."
This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"
"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."
Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.
His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.
They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.
The viewing box is empty.
"There my lord."
Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.
"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.
He hadn't expected this.
Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.
She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.
He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.
“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.
“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”
He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.
“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”
He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.
“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”
Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.
He cannot wait.
There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.
Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.
“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.
He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.
“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.
You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”
His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.
“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.
“I prefer to do it myself.”
He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”
“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.
It seems he’s struck a nerve.
“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”
You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”
Your last statement has him pausing.
“What did you say?”
Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.
“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”
He does not remember such a thing.
“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”
Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.
A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.
He’s shocked he forgot it.
You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.
“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”
“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.
“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”
He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.
“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.
You smirk, “Does it not please you?”
“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.
“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”
He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.
You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.
Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.
“Allow me, my lady.”
Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.
You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.
Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.
“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”
“None were you, my lord.”
“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.
You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”
“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.
He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.
He releases his hold.
“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”
You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.
“Because I will make you.”
Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.
He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.
“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”
“Of course, my lady.”
[Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!]
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softtdaisy · 5 months
Text
🌲 a found family l max verstappen
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summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.
words count. 2,596
a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶
a very angsty Christmas l masterlist
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You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 
And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.
He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 
Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.
“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 
He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 
“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 
“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 
This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 
From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.
Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?
“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 
“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.
Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 
That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.
And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.
“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.
For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.
But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.
“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 
“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.
“Yep. You’re happy.” 
Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”
It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.
“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 
Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.
If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 
“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.
Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 
At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.
Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.
“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.
“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”
Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.
“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 
“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 
“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.
Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”
He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.
Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.
But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.
“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 
Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 
“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 
Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.
Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 
The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 
And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.
When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.
“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.
That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.
So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.
You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.
“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 
You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 
But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.
All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 
It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 
“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.
You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 
But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”
You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 
And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.
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rainbowgothdisaster · 2 years
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finding out you dont have anxiety you just have shitty ppl in your life is the worst news to get (/hyperbole)
like,,, howd it take me 2 months to figure out my cousin didnt start my anxiety back up, i was just extremely disappointed she was being a cunt and now have horrible memories of my favourite accessories?
its showing off a project about microlabels and finding out my ex and ex best friend are exclusionists all over again
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kasagia · 26 days
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Right Hand V
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: The Bene Gesserit has something... very interesting to show you—something that only makes you question your situation more. During this time, Feyd is also put to a great test. But how much can your relationship endure before you both come to the conclusion that maybe you're not meant to be together? Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~
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Dreams have a strange power. You can see your future and past in them. You can drift between dreamland and the real world and be semi-aware of your surroundings. You can create a new reality that is more tempting than your real life. Dreams can be either your sweet escape from reality or your dark oppressor.
For you, dreams were reminders of what had been, ghosts of the past, catching you in your most vulnerable state. But this time, you weren't dreaming about your past.
You were in Giedi Prime. You walked through familiar corridors, hiding from the Harkonnens' eyes. It was rare to meet anyone in these corridors. Most of them were dead ends with secret passages that were unknown to most of the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. That's why you were terribly surprised when suddenly someone pulled you by your cloak.
You freeze, startled, and turn slowly to face the small child. The kid looks like Harkonnen's child, but not quite. His skin is creamier than white, and white hair grows on his head in unruly curls. But what you recognised perfectly were the blue, bright irises that only one person could boast on Gieidi Prime.
"Mommy!" A boy around 5 years old runs up to you and hugs your legs as you look at him in shock and confusion. “Dad said he would take us on a trip! To Lankiveil! We will swim in a real lake! Can you imagine that?!” – he asks excitedly and holds out his hands to you. You automatically scoop him up into your arms and place him on your hip, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.
Someone's quick footsteps echo in the corridor. You look past the child and see one of the harpies approaching you. She breathed a sigh of relief and bowed to you when she saw the boy in your arms.
"You can't run away like that, my lord Na-Baron. The baron told us to look after you."
"I didn't run away. I quickly left to find my mom. Dad wanted to speak with her. Besides, it's not my fault that you're so slow." Both you and the woman next to you do everything in your power not to burst out laughing. You smile, burying your face in your "son's" hair. He was so damn similar to his father and you.
The boy jumps out of your arms and grabs your hand. He runs with you through familiar corridors and hidden passages, not caring if you can keep up with him.
This way, you are in the war room in just a few seconds. Feyd stands with his back to you, analysing something on the hologram of the planets in front of him. He doesn't even flinch when the secret passage closes behind you with a bang.
"Dad, I brought mom." Your boy announces proudly, leading you to Feyd. The man turns and runs his hand through your son's hair. The little one smiles, showing a series of night-black teeth... with small cavities. He looked so damn cute. Like a little version of his father...
"Good job, Feydor. At least you are able to find your mother in her shadows. Go, torment your uncle. I've heard that you promised Rabban a great fight after our lessons." Feyd says teasingly, wrapping his arm around your waist. You roll your eyes at his comment about shadows, but you can't help but watch his interactions with your son in fascination.
Feyd was rarely around children; on Giedi Prime, they were quite... not shown much. They were a temporary inconvenience rather than a source of pride, and the noblest and most important of the inhabitants rarely cared for their own descendants. The nannies and servants usually took care of them. That's why you observed with admiration how soft and tender he was towards the boy, who was a living mix of both of you.
"I did! I can't wait to use the voice on him. I love you, dad. I love you, mom." He hugs you and practically runs to the training room, looking forward to training with his uncle.
"Just don't humiliate your uncle too much! And remember to turn on your shield!" Feyd shouts after him, and you feel like crying at the worried and caring look on his face. You've never seen him like this. Well, not when the two of you were in no danger. "In moments like these, I feel sorry for Rabban. He has to face a deadly mix of both of us. Devious beast, just like us. It doesn't matter that Rabban is not using all his strength against him; he would have defeated him anyway with his tactical mind and the tricks he learned from you. I need to start training with him so that he doesn't become too arrogant and self-confident after his numerous victories over Rabban. He must always be alert and ready for his opponent."
Honestly, you're not listening carefully to what he's saying. You are shocked by this new reality in which you find yourself. It was too surreal for you. But you couldn't stop your heart from fluttering as he spoke about his son with such tenderness and pride. Your son.
"What's wrong? You look pale. Are you two alright? You had unusual cravings again, and now you regret what you ate?" The concern in his eyes confuses you even more. He places his hand tenderly on your stomach and watches you carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort as you wonder what the hell happened to make him... like this. It must have been your imagination. This couldn't be any vision of your future, because even in your wildest dreams, you had never imagined it to be so... beautiful. "Y/N? Talk to me, my baroness. Should I call a healer?"
"I'm fine." You reply with a smile, shaking your head and placing your hand on his—the one that was still tenderly caressing your small pregnancy belly.
"You sure?" Your lips hurt from smiling as you try your hardest not to cry in front of him with emotion. So you grab him by the neck and pull him in for a kiss.
He caresses your lips so gently and tangles his hand so carefully in your hair that you feel like you're about to cry from the way this rare, soft side of him makes you feel that he so bravely shows you.
"Yes... we... we are perfect." You whisper, resting your forehead against his, not at all referring to yourself and the child. You close your eyes, letting yourself breathe in his scent as he draws patterns with his finger on your stomach, keeping his arm possessively around you.
You wrap your arms around him tightly and bury your face in his neck, holding him as close as you can. He laughs softly and presses a kiss on your temple.
"There you are... I almost forgot how sweetly clingy you are while carrying my heir under your heart. We should've tried for a sister for our Kwisatz Haderach a long time ago." He murmurs against your skin and lazily plays with your hair, massaging your head. "Are you sure you are feeling good? You have been very quiet. Usually, you would throw all sorts of insults and banter at me. It's not too late for you to swallow your pride and admit that you want to give birth on Arrakis or anywhere other than on this polluted planet. Damn what those old hags think of you; it won't make you any less of a Harkonnen."
Your heart swells with every word he says. It takes a lot of strength on your part not to cry in his arms and to keep your voice from shaking as you try to form a coherent sentence.
"I... just promise me you will never let me go." You ask him, not daring to even look at him because you're afraid you'll cry the moment his eyes meet yours.
"You stuck with us, my baroness. Nothing can separate us." He promises it to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and tightening his hold on you. You felt safe. Warm. Loved.
"Good." You mumble, snuggling into him even more. You act as if this is really happening, like this is really supposed to be your life and future.
You have come to the conclusion that it is impossible and unrealistic for Feyd to change like this. The Harkonnens were not soft; they did not lead a tender family life and cared for their wives if they did take one. But in the end, it's your dream. So you sink into his arms, enjoying the sweet words he whispers in your ear and the way he strokes your hair.
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Feyd had never been in such a hurry to get to his chambers. His heart was beating fast, and adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he thought about what had happened in those few hours. The baron is missing. He was kidnapped or killed by the Fremen. Feyd was to take his place until they found his uncle's body or the council officially declared him dead.
And Feyd had his suspicions about who could have contributed to the sudden disappearance of his beloved uncle. You couldn't have given him a better birthday present. In fact, you could, and he was practically running back to his chambers to pick it up.
He enters the chambers and immediately senses that it is too quiet there. He tries to dispel any suspicions and enters his bedroom, only to find the bed empty.
“Y/N?” He calls out, knocking on the table a few times to make his presence known. He peeks into the bathroom, slightly hoping that maybe you're waiting for him in the hot bath to tease him even more, but you weren't there either.
He frowns. He wonders if this isn't one of your games. Isn't that what you wanted—to play cat and mouse with him, to give him an exciting chase before he wins and can finally ravage you—but he quickly dismisses that (charming) idea. You were as desperate as he was. You wouldn't leave this room unless it was urgent. At least he hoped so.
He clenches his fists as he steps out into the main room of his chambers. The idea crosses his mind that maybe this time you actually ran away from him. He wouldn't be surprised. Maybe you finally snapped; maybe he scared you too much; maybe he went a step too far today by injecting you with truth serum and torturing your former lover/friend.
After all, you didn't say you loved him. You also didn't say that you despised him or that you wanted him to leave you. You could have escaped from him when the perfect opportunity presented itself…
"My lord, Na-Baron?" The frightened tone of one of the guards' voices brings Feyd out of his thoughts. He realises that he has gone out into the hall and is standing in the doorway, staring blankly at his two men. He clears his throat and turns his cold, calculating gaze on one of them.
"Have you seen my right hand?" They both shake their heads, not daring to look at him.
"No one left or entered these chambers except you, my na-baron." His madness grows as he unintentionally compares them to you. You always had the courage to face his anger and look at him, proudly bearing his burning gaze.
If you really run away from him... he will unleash hundreds of hounds, bring you back to him at all costs, and make sure you never leave his side again. He won't give a fuck if that's what you want. He gave you countless opportunities to leave him and end things between you two in a civilised way without brutality or bloodshed, but you didn't want it. The only thing stopping you two from being together were your stupid prejudices and fear. He planned to get rid of them completely once he got his hands on you again.
"Bring her to me." He growls at them, turning to go back to his chambers.
"But my lord..." Before the soldier can finish his sentence, Feyd reaches for his blade and cuts his throat with one skillful move. It eases the tension in his muscles a little, but the moment the man falls dead to the floor in front of him, his mood sours again. Because he remembers how, in moments like these, you often gave him a disapproving look and cleaned up the mess he made.
He growls at the other soldier, who is shaking with fear, to clean up and closes the door behind him with a loud bang. He had to find you. You got too deep under his skin for him to just forget about you. First, he had to determine whether you disappeared alone or whether someone had helped you. And God save him who dared to steal his baroness from under his nose.
He carefully examines his chambers, slowly exploring every corner. He frowns when he sees a familiar, polished dagger in his weapon collection. He picks it up and looks at it carefully. It was your blade. The one you had attached to your thigh. You had never left it—not since you got it from him for your birthday.
"Na-baron. You wanted to see me." You say, walking onto the balcony of his chambers. Feyd doesn't turn towards you. He stares at Giedi Prime spread out below him, the city completely shrouded in darkness. Only the few white stars that managed to penetrate the polluted atmosphere illuminated the planet with a pale glow. You quickly catch the hint and stand next to him, also looking at the buildings.
"I hate it here." He confesses to you without knowing why. "My home planet had seas, lakes, wild landscapes, and tundra that no one dared to tame. And here everything is so..."
"Controlled. Polluted. Defiled. Exploited. No room for anything... wild or natural." You finish for him. He nods, agreeing with your words.
It's been two years since you served him. And he had to admit that he didn't have such a good man on whom he could always count. You were extraordinary. Loyal, faithful, brave, honourable, and cunning. Feyd wanted to liberate you. Not many could live up to his expectations, but you seemed to know exactly what he wanted and needed after just one look. It aroused in him... strange feelings. Disturbing. But he didn't think about it when he was around you.
He preferred to admire your… difference. The hair that flowed slightly in the wind, the way your eyebrows knitted together in anger when someone questioned your position as his right-hand man, the way you walked, the way you could disappear into the shadows, the cunning and strength of your mind. You were an extraordinary woman. He started to appreciate you for the time you spent planning together. Nightly conversations about the nobility of Giedi Prime, your battle plans, and court intrigues became… something other than work for him. He was starting to like being close to you.
And at night, when he was with his concubines... he found himself imagining you in their place. And how much he wanted you... so much so lately that every little thing you did was the hottest, erotic act for him, even the way you moaned in appreciation when you ate good food. He was fucked up. Like a teenager in love.
But he didn't love you. He could not. His uncle had told him many times that the Harkonnens knew no love or affection. He just had to wait until this desire passed or find another right hand and make you his concubine, which was a much more difficult task. There were many pussies and holes he could have used, but you were the only one who seemed to have a mind even remotely like his. He couldn't afford to lose such a good strategist and soldier.
"Do you need anything, Na-Baron?" Your gentle question brings him out of his thoughts. He nods and goes to his chambers. He returns quickly with a black box in his hands. He hands it to you, carefully watching your reaction.
"Happy birthday, little witch." He says, not hiding a small smirk when he sees your shock. He managed to surprise you so rarely that he treated every such moment with reverence, as if it were the most important moment of his life. Pathetic. What power you had over him…
"How did you..."
"I have my ways too. Open it." He interrupts you, excited by your reaction to his gift. He puts his hands behind his back, feeling his fingers tremble slightly as they begin to sweat. He ignores it, completely focused on you as you gently untie the white bow and open the box. You hold your breath, staring at the dagger in awe. "Steel from my home planet. Don't stab yourself with it by accident. When it pierces someone's body, a piece of the blade dissolves under the heat of the attacker's blood. A small dose of this metal in the human body causes, in the worst case, a moribund state and death. We call it the shadow killer because death occurs hours after the attack unless an antidote is administered."
"I... I don't know what to say." You whisper, taking out the blade and running your fingertips over it. He looks at you with pride. He made it all by himself. For you. A detail he would take with him to his grave rather than admit to anyone.
"You can thank me. Didn't the Bene Gesserit teach you this?" He asks teasingly, making you roll your eyes at him. However, you give him such a beautiful smile that his black, rotten heart beats faster, letting him know about you for the first time in years.
"Thank you, Feyd." He melts when you say his name. You used it so infrequently that he had every little moment seared into his memory when you let your professionalism slip through and did it. And he loved the way his name sounded on your lips. He couldn't help but imagine what it would sound like when you shouted it, under much more pleasant circumstances.
"You know, we Harkonnens kiss each other on the lips as an expression of gratitude." He says this as your eyes move back to the dagger. He sees you freeze at the memory of it. You blush slightly, but enough for Feyd to notice the slight change. And he absolutely loves seeing you blushing and confused.
"I'm not a Harkonnen." You respond with a cheeky smile, and he shakes his head in amusement.
"But you are on our planet. I guess you should follow our rules and customs, right? Besides, in a few years, you'll be considered one of us."
"If I survive."
"I think you have a good chance." He smiles at your banter. The pride in his chest grows even more when, instead of looking at his black teeth in horror, you giggle, unfazed. You were so different…
However, he freezes when you take a step towards him. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. He almost moans into your mouth like a total slut. It takes all of his willpower not to kiss you back, not to pull you closer, and not to actually taste your lips. But he can't. He won't show that he is that weak for you. So he keeps this fake kiss very professional. He is digging his nails into his palms until they bleed, as he is too afraid that he will accidentally reach for your body and pull you closer to him.
You pull away from him as suddenly as you place your lips on him. And he's both shocked and angry that your lips left his so quickly. His eyes wander to your lips as you lick them. Feyd curses himself for how badly he wants that pink tongue of yours to wrap around his own... or the hardening manhood in his pants.
"Thank you, Na-Baron Feyd Rautha." You whisper and head towards the exit, leaving him there, completely horny and wanting more of you—your touch, your kisses, your lips, your taste, your everything. He feels himself blushing at the thought of what he wants to do to you.
"Your welcome, my little witch." He mumbles as you disappear back into your shadows. He puts his bloody fingertips on his lips, tasting his blood. He closes his eyes, imagining how sweet you must taste...
Yeah... Feyd couldn't love you. A lie he had told himself since that night every time he felt his heart pound in his chest whenever he saw you.
"Brother… I mean... my Baron…" Rabban's voice reaches him vaguely as he continues to recall that day. Now he knew the taste of your lips... and your more intimate parts. And damn him if he doesn't put his fingers and tongue on you again.
"What?" He growls at him furiously, unsheathing his dagger and attaching yours to his body. The blade of the dagger was a bit uneven. And soft in his hands. It must have been used recently. And from the dried blood on the handle, he guessed that someone had clumsily tried to clean it. Someone took you from him.
He returns to the bedroom and grabs your shawl from the floor. He puts it to his nose and inhales your scent. He calms down a little—not enough for his fury to disappear, but enough to start thinking logically.
He was going to turn Arrakis into a living hell.
"The council has met. All high families. They are waiting for you."
Feyd would ignore it and go straight to find you, but your disgruntled face appears before his eyes. He would know that you would advise him to go to the council and present himself as best as possible—show his strength. He sighed, wrapping your shawl around his wrist as he made a decision.
"I see. Let's go." He announces this as he leaves the room and doesn't wait for Rabban to follow him. His brother runs after him, cursing under his breath as he tries to keep up with his fast pace. Feyd had a plan in his head and a clear goal. He'll have you in his arms at the end of the day, or he'll burn this damn planet down looking for you.
"And your witch?" Feyd suddenly stops. He turns his head slowly and looks at his brother, narrowing his eyes at him.
He shakes his head, knowing full well that you would castrate his brother before allowing him and his men to take you away. Rabban was too stupid for that and too afraid of him. If Feyd had to bet on who did it, he would choose the Bene Gesserit or Atreides with his Fremen.
"She won't be there. Order our men to close the airspace and monitor movements in the desert. Tell them to keep an eye on the Reverend Mothers and the Bene Gesserit. If they object to or question my decision, order to tell them that the baron is only trying to keep them safe. They are to report their every move to me. Once you've done that, join the meeting."
"Me?" He asks in shock, following obediently after him.
"You are my brother. We have to show that we are strong and that there are no divisions between us. Especially after my uncle is dead. They may think we are weak targets and want to get rid of us, just like we did with the Atreides. We must assert our dominance."
Rabban nods, looking at him warily. Feyd doesn't care what he looks like. They took you away from him. He'll do anything to get you back. It doesn't matter if he makes you seem mad or a worse psychopath than he already is.
Why does he need a reputation as a bloodthirsty beast if someone dared to get their hands on what's his anyway? People sentenced themselves to death and then dared to say that he was unpredictable. Pathetic idiots. He hoped you were giving them hell. His heart ached uncomfortably at the thought of someone hurting you while he had to deal with the nobility.
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"Let's be honest. Baron Vladimir is dead. Paul Atreides is still at large, probably planning our murder, and the Fremen are rampaging in the desert, worshipping the false prophet. What are you going to do about it, Baron Feyd Rautha?" Feyd clenched his fists under the table. He slowly stopped being surprised that his uncle had become such a man.
After talking to the emperor for a moment, he felt like cutting out his tongue and gouging out the eyes of other high families staring at him. As if his role was to play their hero...
"We have already taken the first measures. It only takes a few bombs to extinguish the spirit of these desert rats. As for Paul Atreides... my people are looking for him. And my right hand went missing the night my uncle died. We suspect this is a related case. I'm going to head out into the desert and join the search. Of course, leaving members of high families in the care of my brother and some of our people. No one will leave Arrakis until the traitors are killed."
His calm, unruffled demeanour, and silent threat caused a slight stir in the room. Feyd suppressed a smirk. He loved controlling the crowd this way. However, he knew that impressing the emperor would be more difficult. Words were not enough to prove that the Harkonnens were a force they should be afraid of. And so far, his brother and uncle have only brought humiliation to their family. He had to fix it. Only with you by his side. That's why he had to leave this pointless meeting as soon as possible and start taking some action. His weapon craved blood.
"It wouldn't be the first time a concubine had gone missing." Princess Irulan comments. Feyd shifts his gaze to her, analysing her carefully. She was paler than usual, her posture more indifferent, as if she were trying hard to hide her true emotions behind her mask. Feyd made a note to look at her more closely.
"Probably not, Princess Irulan. However, in light of recent events—the Atreides attack, the death of my dear uncle, and the increased activity of the Fremen—I am certain that this is not a mere disappearance. This is a deliberate action. Attack on noble houses. Attack on the Harkonnens. And maybe I wouldn't be so concerned about my right hand being missing if it weren't for the baby." After his words, silence fell in the room. Feyd delights in the shocked look from the princess and the nobles in the room.
"The baby?"
"My heir she carries." Feyd nods, repeating his words to the emperor.
Feyd could barely contain his smirk, knowing full well how much you would like to see the faces of representatives of great houses now. To say they were shocked was an understatement. But what else was he supposed to say? That he goes looking for you with a thousand of his troops because he loves you and simply can't lose you? Only the thought of losing his heir was... a good reason to search all of Arrakis and close the airspace—any possibility of leaving the planet.
Because who would stop Harkonnen from desperately searching for the woman who carries his heir? Even a fool wouldn't dare. And if the Bene Gesserit were behind your kidnapping, they wouldn't dare do anything to you either after hearing that... surprising information. After all, they needed his offspring for their plans. Why would they destroy one? Feyd just hoped to get to you first before anyone discovered that you weren't pregnant at all.
"You horny dog! Why didn't you say anything?" Rabban pats him on the back, laughing hoarsely. It breaks the awkward silence in the room. But still, everyone's eyes are on him.
"We preferred to wait with any celebration until we were sure that the baby was growing healthily. After all, this could be our Kwisatz Hederach. Of course, now the safe return of my fiancée with our child is much more important. Therefore, I hope that the Emperor will consent to whatever… measures I intend to take in this matter. Whoever dared to raise a hand against the Harkonnens will pay the weight of their crimes in blood." Feyd continues his lies, knowing full well that you will kick his ass when you find out he called you his fiancée in front of great houses.
"But… I talked to the Baron…"
"My uncle... has not been in good health for a long time. May he rest in peace. Whatever arrangement he made with you, the emperor, during my reign it must be discussed again. Unfortunately, he will not rise from the grave and give us all the details."
"Of course… Baron Feyd-Rautha." The Emperor nods at him. Feyd takes the opportunity and decides to leave the room while he can. He nods to his brother, who turns out to be intelligent enough to understand the message and stands up as well.
"Excellent. If you don't mind, we'll leave now."
He doesn't wait for an answer. He just goes out, with Rabban close behind him. He orders him to prepare the army for the march and place spies around the fortress. They split up halfway to Feyd's rooms. He goes to prepare for his departure, hoping that Rabban will cope with the tasks he has entrusted to him. He missed you. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were by his side.
He sighs as he enters his chambers. He stops in his tracks, seeing Princess Irulan next to his collection of weapons. He closes the door behind him with a bang, announcing his presence. The woman trembles and turns towards him.
"Baron."
"Princess." He responds coldly, looking at her carefully. He didn't say anything more. He wanted her to explain her sudden presence in his chambers. He notices, however, that his new title sounds nasty coming from her mouth, no matter how seductively she tries to say it. He imagines you whispering it in his ear as you ride him on his new throne on Giedi Prime...
"I thought you were leaving." He returns to the present moment, making sure he remembers to fulfil this fantasy once you both get back from this damn planet.
"I needed to change first." He replies and clears his throat, suggesting that she should leave. Unfortunately, she either doesn't want to or doesn't understand his hint and stays where she is, watching him carefully.
He feels like he's playing chess. One wrong move, and he loses a pawn. He hated this game until you started playing with him in the evenings, when you exchanged gossip from the court and your own comments. He doesn't remember how many times you fell asleep and he carried you to his bed. His harpies hated these evenings, and he too hated them at the beginning. Over time, he was just waiting for that moment when he was able to watch you snuggle into his pillow, sleeping peacefully.
"I… that's good. I was hoping to talk to you before you left."
"Talk then." He says this and starts taking off his clothes. He notices her blush and the way she looks away. But there's nothing sweet or funny about this gesture, unlike the way you do it. He changes into his usual tactical battle armour as fast as he can, still thinking about the way you used to even shout at him when he was going fully naked around you.
"I was shocked by this news. About the baby. And your fiancée."
"Why?"
"Well, you know very well, my lord, that the Bene Gesserit has planned to unite our families. This shouldn't have happened." He furrows his hairless eyebrows, feeling the anger start to boil within him again. How dare she tell him what he should do? Who should get pregnant, and who should not? He didn't care what the Bene Gesserit wanted. Feyd wanted you, and you probably wanted him. That was all that mattered.
"Would you rather be at my fiancée's place? Would you rather carry my baby instead of her?" He asks dangerously, approaching her slowly. Before she can react, he lunges forward and almost crushes her neck in his grip when he prevents her from using the voice. "You are trembling with fear, princess. It is pathetic that the Bene Gesserit even thought we could connect in any way. Even if we got married, I wouldn't lay a finger on you. At best, I would kill you right after I consolidated my power as emperor. Now that we both know where we stand... Tell me, where is my little witch?"
"The Reverend Mother sent her to Paul Atreides' hideout." She answers him obediently. Feyd smirks sadistically and maliciously as her eyes widen in shock when she realises he has used the voice on her. "How?" She managed to ask before Feyd tightened his grip on her throat again, giving her a bored look.
"With one of your witches by my side, do you think I won't do anything to learn your tricks? I'm not an idiot to let an opportunity like this pass me by. You think that I didn't also see you wince with every move at the meeting? This must have happened right after my fiancée stabbed you when you kidnapped her, right? The poison took effect, didn't it? Are you feeling weak? Do you feel how you slowly lose your vitality with each breath? It will get even worse. Maybe my fiancée will have the mercy to give you the antidote, but I have no intention of doing so. Now listen to me carefully. You won't say or write even a word to inform anyone about what happened. You will lock yourself in your room and endure the effects of the poison without complaining to anyone that something is wrong with you. Get out of my sight before I finish my beloved's work."
He throws her away like a rag doll, feeling defiled just by touching her neck. The only reason he kept her alive was because she was the emperor's daughter, and he couldn't afford to get rid of her YET. She runs away from him as soon as his grip on her neck is gone.
He smiles mockingly and leaves his chambers as well. Now that he knew you would be in the desert, he was going to dig up those damn sand folds and kill all the Fremen and Bene Gesserit who had a hand in your kidnapping.
And once you are by his side again, he will give you the heads of the princess, Corrino's Reverend Mother, and Atreides on a golden platter—an engagement present worthy of a real baroness. Well, he'll have to convince you to marry him first. He sighs, realising how much work is still ahead of him.
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You wake up feeling numb. Entirely. There's a gag in your mouth, your hands are tied behind your back, and your ankles are cuffed together, completely preventing you from moving.
You look around your surroundings, realising that you are in one of the Fremen hideouts. A small room carved into the sandy rock resembles a prison cell. You gasp as you try to get off the floor. With a groan, you lean against the cold wall behind you as you somehow manage to sit up. You wonder how the hell you ended up here. And how can you escape when you are completely incapacitated?
Suddenly, the door to the room opens, and Corrino's Reverend Mother enters. You look at the woman with a calculating gaze, showing no emotion other than disgust.
"Y/N Y/L/N. We thought you were dead."
You roll your eyes at her. The old hag knew perfectly well that you had a gag. The fact that she expected any response from you was ridiculous.
"You betrayed your sisters. We should have killed you the moment you were recognised by one of us. You're lucky we're still keeping you alive."
You would snort if you didn't have a gag in your mouth. The Bene Gesserit knew no mercy; if they kept you alive, it was because they still needed you in their plans. After all, you were the strongest of them, which might not be visible now, but it was the truth. They didn't train you all your life and shape you into their ideal form of some sick Holly Mother, just to throw you away now.
You are tensing as the old woman walks up to you and painfully grabs your jaw. You glare at her furiously with your own, not showing an ounce of fear or remorse. What you wouldn't give to have at least a butter knife with you…
"Do you think you are smart, child? That you managed to escape fate? Not at all. Our visions may have been blurry, but now we see everything. Paul Atreides sees everything. After his plan succeeds, he becomes emperor, and you will become his concubine and the mother of the Kwisatz Hederach. Until then, we will keep you under control."
"Who allowed you to come in here?" A cold, commanding voice echoes throughout the small cell. The Reverend Mother steps away from you as if she's been burned by him, giving you the opportunity to look at Paul Atreides as she steps inside. You shiver as his cold gaze falls on you, but you show them nothing but disgust and anger. If you're going to die, at least you will make sure that before you do that, you'll be remembered by them as one big pain in the ass.
"I..."
"Silience!" Atreides yells at her as she feebly tries to explain herself to him. You frown, wondering how the hell he gained such power over the Bene Gesserit. "Leave us alone."
The woman nods obediently and leaves, closing the bars to your cell behind her. You shift your gaze to Atreides, examining him carefully. He was… more portly than you remembered him last time. He became stronger, tougher, and visibly hardened by the sands of Arrakis, since his posture was stiff as armour. You catch yourself thinking that if he stood in the arena in Giedi Prime, he would still lose to your na-baron.
"I am not here to hurt you, Y/N." Atreides says, walking over to you. He crouches down so that you are both at the same height. You look closely at the features of his face, analysing them carefully, trying to read what's behind the strange behaviour of the mysterious Fremen's prophet. "We both have our roles to play here. Something that is above us. I learned a lot about you.I know about your service to the Harkonnens, what you endured as a Bene Gesserit, and every darkest part of your past. And I know you are a wise and very strong woman. You probably understand why all this is so important and why we must fulfil the prophecy and take our places in this story." He says, removing your gag. You clear your throat as he finishes his speech, and, trying to hide your concern, you growl, your voice so hoarse and dripping with madness that Feyd would surely be proud of you:
"You are a mad freak. Feyd will kill you as soon as he finds you. And hell knows, he will come for me. It will be pure joy to fight him for the privilege of being the one who impales your head." Atreides gives you a small smile. He shakes his head, amused by what you're saying. He stands up, helping you to stand on your two feet as well, placing his hands on your waist respectfully, and touching you as little as necessary.
"Come with me. Let me show you something." He says this in an extremely calm voice as he removes the chain from around your ankles. You briefly consider kicking him and trying to escape, but you realise there's not much you can do with your hands tied. You are also still weak—too weak to maintain control over someone else for long with the voice. "Do not be afraid. I told you. I have no reason to hurt you." He encourages, concluding that your hesitation is out of fear and not a desire to attack him.
"I lived for years among the Harkonnens. I'm not afraid of anything except myself."
He gives you an ironic smirk, as if he were convinced that he was an evil worse than the Harkonnens. You don't care about his poor attempts to intimidate you. You weren't some desert rat to be terrified of a man with nice curls and eyes.
You walk through a series of corridors, and of course he leads you, holding your arm tightly and making sure you don't do anything stupid on this little trip around his kingdom. It brings you great satisfaction. Your reputation had obviously taken its toll if he continued to be vigilant around you while you were still half sedated and tied up without any weapons.
You smile sadistically at the Fremen you pass. They look away from you, too afraid to meet your gaze. You were known among them as the Na-Baron's bloodthirsty right-hand, whose cruelty rivalled that of many Harkonnens.
You and Atreides go deeper down. You slowly start to feel dizzy from the number of corridors, corners, and stairs he tells you to take, but eventually you reach a more spacious room. You sigh, feeling the humid air—a sweet change from the dry Arrakis wind. Atreides takes the torch and leads you deeper into the room. You gasp as you see a large pool full of water.
"The Fremen treat water as something sacred. They collect it from the bodies of their people; the water of the more deserving people goes to such pools."
"This is a waste. And stupid, considering that they are dying from a lack of water while having pools of it safely hidden from the Harkonnens." You notice, staring at the pool of water. You tense as you feel Paul's searching gaze on you. You turn your head and give him an intimidating look. He doesn't even flinch. He is unfazed as he continues to analyse you—something you don't like at all. You wish Feyd was here. He would gouge Atreides' eyes out the first time his gaze lingered on you for a second too long.
"Possible. But it's not the first time we waste something in the name of faith, right?"
"Faith befuddles and stupefies. Same as prophecies. We are responsible for our own fate. It doesn't matter what some crazy old man wrote in the books a hundred years ago, probably under the influence of drugs or other alcohol. No one influences our future except ourselves."
His silence at your words worries you. You turn your head to look at him. A small smirk spreads across his face—a sign that your words didn't outrage him as much as they were supposed to. He nods, agreeing with your words, and you realise what he really means. The son of a bitch was testing you. Logical, considering that he was the one who started the cult of him. He thought like you. He did not believe in any Kwisatz Hederach, and even if he did, he considered himself one. He just needed you to keep the propaganda and people's faith in him.
He wanted to show that he had tamed the Harkonnen's witch.
Atreides walks over to you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder, directing you to a different side of the room. You pass by a pool of water. In the centre, there is a large stone bowl on a platform.
"The Reverend Mothers call it the mirror of wisdom. It shows us our future if we continue on the path we are currently on. Look. See what awaits you with your crazy beast by your side."
"It's very brave of you to think that I'm not one." He chuckled at your words. He lets go of you and takes two steps back, keeping his amused, curious gaze on you.
"The Harkonnens are different from us. You may think you are one of them, that you have absorbed their ways and behaviours, but the truth is that you are not one of them at all. You may have adapted to survive among them, but can you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't long for something more... normal?"
"Normality is for the weak." You reply, huffing furiously. "Apart from that, my life has always been different from normal. This is my normality, Atreides."
"Even the bravest warrior needs a break, a moment of respite. Look. Aren't you curious?"
You were very damn curious. Especially after that strange dream/vision you had. So, without saying a word, you approach the bowl of water. You take a breath and dive your head into it, letting the images flood your mind.
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This time you are not on Giedi Prime, and you are not a participant in the events. From a distance, you watch the older version of yourself adjust the crown on her head. Empress's crown.
You see yourself flinching in the mirror as the door to your chamber bursts open. Feyd, dressed as an emperor, walks in furiously, heading straight for you. He pushes the large mirror, smashing it against the wall with a roar.
However, you don't care about his sudden attack and watch him, unfazed, as he gasps with rage.
"Is something wrong, honey?" You ask in an almost too-sweet tone, mocking him.
"Do you have the nerve to ask me that? Why don't you tell me where my concubine is instead? Where did you send her? You gave the corpses to the harpies to eat? If any harm has come to her, I will make you eat all three of them before I tear out your cunning heart from your chest, witch."
"You'd have to touch me first. And we both know that lately you're more afraid of laying a finger on me than of our son dethroning you. Which is very surprising, by the way. Has that concubine of yours brainwashed you so much?" You see yourself smiling mockingly as you watch his anger grow with every word you say.
"Don't talk about her like that. Unlike you, she's not a cold, uncaring, selfish bitch."
"Of course not. A smart woman wouldn't willingly sleep with you." This completely breaks the remnants of his composure. He walks over to the older version of you and wraps his hand around her neck, pressing her against the wall.
But he doesn't do it the same way he does with you. It's not a gentle neck hold, a warning, or anything sexual—something that would turn you both on. He just cuts you off, choking you, watching with sick satisfaction as you squirm, trying to get out of his grasp.
"What's stopping me from ending your miserable life? You have already given me a son; your usefulness has long passed, and yet I still let you breathe the same air as me." He says this, tightening his grip on your neck. You gasp as he pushes you away.
From the way you fall to the floor and choke for air, you assume that the older version of you was only seconds away from suffocating. But you don't surrender to him; you don't give him any satisfaction in trying to intimidate you. You start laughing derisively, shaking your head in amusement as you slowly get up from the floor.
"Aw... you couldn't kill me. You're like a dog. You bark and do little. You love me too much to kill me, don't you remember? How did you beg me all those years ago for a piece of my feelings? Who said I love you first? Who was begging on his knees for my hand? Who wanted to have a child? You. You are just a desperate little boy looking for love and affection. You probably even liked the fact that I'm jealous of you and kill your lover? Unfortunately, I don't give a shit who you fuck. I didn't steal your whore, so get out and don't waste my time, husband." You mock him, waiting expectantly for his next move.
He stares at you with pure hatred and resentment. You feel the tension in the room begin to build; the immense anger and disgust between the two of you are palpable. You have no fucking idea how you came to be so hostile towards each other, but... you can't say you're surprised. Because if you were already imagining a future with Feyd... this was the scenario that came to your mind most often.
The two of you were too broken to trust each other and entrust each other with the remnants of the heart that beat and remained within you.
Feyd looks like he wants to say something. But he gives up and instead just leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
You swallow, observing your pathetic fate. The empress locked in a golden palace. At eternal war with everyone. Lonely. Your heart aches at the thought of this being your fate. This is what you were running from. Before relegating you solely to the vessel she was to carry and give to the world, Kwisatz Hederach, Because what would be the use of you then? You would be rejected and alone. Waiting to die. However, you didn't expect your end to look like THIS.
A figure emerges from the darkness of the room through a hidden passage—a man who is a copy of you and Feyd. You see a similarity in him, in your movements, in your creeping through the shadows. He approaches you from behind, holding a dagger similar to the one Feyd gave you on your birthday. You don't react when you feel steel around your neck, as if you had long ago come to terms with how you would die—and by whose hands.
"You were right, mother… I was destined to achieve much more."
And with that, he cuts your throat. Crimson blood runs down your dress, almost invisible against the black material. You die quickly. Quietly. Like a rat...
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"Have you seen something interesting?" Atreides' voice reaches you as you step away from the bowl after the vision ends. You sigh heavily, breathing heavily. Drops of water roll down your face and soak into your linen shirt.
"Screw you." You snap at him, trying to wipe your face on the frame. He tears off a piece of his shavl and walks over to you. He wipes the water from your face and hair, not caring about the scowl you throw at him in warning.
"I told you. The future with Harkonnen cannot end well. But if you stay with me, I promise nothing will happen to you. You can be more free with me than you ever could with him."
And you're tempted as hell to accept his offer. You can't say you're not interested at all, that what you saw hasn't made you question your choices... but you've been a Harkonnen for so many years. Could you really forget all this so easily? Forget about Feyd? Maybe in that stupid Bene Gesserit's bowl you saw your tragic end at his side... but did it really have to end like this? You could avoid all this. Take a risk to gain something much better...
"So this is your offer? Freedom and security for lending my uterus for 9 months?" You ask him, wanting to know exactly what options and choices you have.
"In very simple terms, yes." He nods, still staring at you. You find this very irritating of him; you were usually the one who pierced other people with your gaze. Not the other way around.
"What for? You're telling these fools that you're their saviour and the messiah. Kwisatz Hederach, ahead of his time. Why do you need me?"
"I need the support of the Reverend Mothers of other families. I may have... your powers and be the strongest of them all, but I've learned that if you can gain someone's support in a peaceful way, it's better to try it before reaching for a weapon."
Atreides stared at you like you were a puzzle to solve. You didn't like the hidden arrogance in his eyes—the belief that he was truly capable of discovering all your secrets.
Maybe he knew your past, and maybe he saw visions of the future, possible scenarios of what might have happened after his decisions, but the present was yours. And only yours. You will be more than happy to show him that no one could tear out all your fangs and claws.
"Feyd will kill you sooner and bind me with tighter chains than you did, than he ever allowed such a turn of events." You say confidently, convinced that he won't just leave you. In this situation, it's a huge relief for you... but in your head, you can still see his sadistic smirk as he choked you against the wall.
"Not if I kill him." You tense up at his words, and your heart starts to beat faster as you process his words. You would never think that Feyd Rautha could ever die—not by another person's hand, of course. And certainly not Atreides.
He fought too well, was too intelligent and cunning to fail in battle, and yet... you couldn't deny that that one simple sentence Paul said with such confidence didn't send a cold shiver of fear down your spine or that you felt no threat.
"Have you ever seen him in the arena? Or how does he fight? You may have become stronger thanks to your time on Arrakis, but he was trained from childhood to be a small, psychopathic killer and ruthless warrior. You don't stand a chance, Atreides. You won't last a minute fighting him."
"Maybe not in an equal fight. But by trick? More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man."
"Are you talking about your father or maybe even your mother?" You ask mockingly, making his jaw tense and his hands clench into fists. You are very pleased with yourself that you finally managed to hit his sweet spot. Feyd would be proud of you.
"I'm talking about what will happen. Feyd Rautha will die. From my hands." The more he talks about it, the more your anger grows. However, you decide to stay calm and continue the little exchange between the two of you, trying to get something useful from him.
"Are you that sure about your visions? You don't hesitate for a moment, Atreides? It must be so boring knowing what's going to happen. Never having any element of surprise…"
"There are no more certain and clear visions than mine. Maybe you should also start believing in them?"
"Not as long as I have my brain." And my own visions. You add it in your mind, thinking about what you had dreamed about before you woke up in this hole.
"The rumors about you don't lie… Harkonnen's witch." He hums as he walks over to you. His hand reaches up to your cheek, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe your cheek clean of the drop of water still left on it.
You shiver, staring into his eyes. His touch burns, but not in a nice, familiar way. And when you realise that the reason you're not attracted to him is because he doesn't have the familiar ice-blue irises, pale skin, and bald head, it scares you more than Atreides' sudden proximity to you.
"I'm glad I didn't disappoint you, Atreides." You whisper, moving away from him. You quickly lean in, wanting to bite, or preferably bite off, his finger that was caressing your skin, but he withdraws his hand and takes a step away from you. He laughs at your feeble attempt to harm him.
He opens his mouth to say something, but then the ground around you starts shaking. The sand rock crumbles, causing some of it to fall from the ceiling onto the ground. Atreides looks at you suspiciously.
"Didn't you see it in your visions? Maybe there's a sandworm crawling through your halls?" You ask mockingly, shrugging your shoulders.
"Stay here." He commands you using the voice. He doesn't spare you a second glance, simply heading for the exit. You look at him in disbelief and quickly follow him. The last thing you want is to get buried in one of these rats' corridors because one of them summoned a sandworm in the wrong way.
"I could be of much more use to you there than here." You say, as you are catching up with him, desperately trying to convince him.
"Not if these are Harkonnens!" He replies without looking back and slamming the door shut. You kick them in rage, looking around angrily at the large hall where he left you.
"That's the point…" You sigh, fed up with it all. You walk around the room, trying to find a way out, but even when you manage to find the side passages, you can't take a step beyond the threshold. You are forced to stay inside. "Fucking Atreides."
Instead of wandering aimlessly around the room, you decide to try and break the shackles that bind your hands. You try to smash them against the stalagmite, only to hit harder as the metal cuts into your wrists. After a while, when you have released all your anger, you somehow manage to free your hands. You rub your wrists, letting your blood soak into the sleeve of your linen shirt. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet sound of the water and the footsteps you hear from the upper floors. Something is happening...
Frustrated, you wander over to the pool filled with water. You crouch on the edge and dip your toes in the water. You watch the drops fall, wondering how many people have already given their lives. How many died at the hands of the Harkonnens? You wonder whether your water and blood will also join the ranks of their victims. It seems surreal to you now that Feyd could ever kill you or your own son... but how were you supposed to know what your future was supposed to be? Were you supposed to trust some strange visions or yourself?
While playing with water, you freeze when you suddenly see someone leaning over you. Before you can turn around, a hand covers your mouth, and another wraps around your waist, lifting you up. You scream and kick, trying to get out of someone's tight grip, but your attempts to break free are futile. You freeze when you hear a familiar, raspy voice whisper in your ear.
"Don't worry, it's me. It's just me. Shhh… You're safe. It's me." You relax a little in his arms. You reach your hand up to his and remove it from your mouth. He loosens his grip enough for you to turn in his arms.
"Feyd." You sigh when you see his face. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. You rest your chin on his shoulder and breathe in his scent as you hold onto him tightly.
You hear him breathe a sigh of relief as well. He places a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. After a moment, he pulls away from you—not too far away, only a bit—so he can look at your face and see if you have any injuries.
"You're getting out of here. Our men are hidden in every corridor of this hole. Take a few of them and go to the exit. They will take you to the ship. Wait for me there." He gently cups your cheeks in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. Your heart beats faster as you recognise that concerned look in his eyes from your dream, mixed with anger. "Y/N. I mean it. I know you want to fight; you're brave and a great warrior, but do it for me and just go to that damn ship."
"No. Wait, listen to me. I have to tell you something..."
"You'll tell me you love me later, now you have to get out of here, so I can destroy this place." He interrupts you, gently pushing you towards the exit. You feel anger and frustration building within you as yet another person tries to control you and tell you what to do. No matter how sweet and protective Feyd is acting now, you are fed up with constantly obeying everyone around you.
"Stop!" You shout at him, making him stop in his tracks in shock. Under any other circumstances, you would laugh at the surprised look he gives you, but not now. "Do you trust me?" You ask, looking at him expectantly. You know you're asking a lot of him right now, but if you're going to change your future, you have to act now. And fast. Very fast.
"Y/N this isn't the best…"
"Do you trust me?!" You interrupt him, raising your voice. He must see the desperation and seriousness in your eyes because you see him swallow, considering the question you've asked him. You unconsciously hold your breath, waiting for him to respond.
You both know this isn't an ordinary question. It means something more. Admitting something you both had been avoiding since the first day your blades met in a little skirmish that earned you his sympathy. He had long admired you for your mind, intelligence, ingenuity, cunning, and natural charm. But could he trust you completely?
"I… I do. If I trust anyone, it's you. Only you."
You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You take a step towards him, cupping his cheek in your hand and kissing him. He tenses in surprise but kisses you back pretty quickly, moaning into your mouth as you express all the passion and desire you feel for him. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, wanting to feel your body against his to make sure this isn't some dream. You caress the skin of his neck, shuddering as an electric shiver runs through you as he deepens the kiss, taking everything you have to offer him.
Kissing Feyd always felt like it was the first kiss between the two of you. He kissed like he fought—with his whole being, not holding back, transmitting all his passion and desire. He didn't even know how much you needed to taste all of him right now. And how bittersweet that kiss was for you.
You reluctantly pull away from him and press your forehead against his. You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
"I love you, Feyd. I have always loved you. And I was very afraid of it, but I'm not anymore... I... I don't want to be scared of this anymore." You admit it as a single tear falls from your eyes. He reaches to wipe it off, but you shake your head. His hand freezes, hanging between you as he stares at you in shock, trying to process what you said.
Just as he's about to open his mouth, probably to tell you the same thing, you lean in and kiss him again. Slower, more gentle. A few tears escape you, allowing you both to taste them through the kiss.
You reach for the sword attached to his waist with trembling hands.
"I'm so sorry. But it's not our time yet." You whisper, moving away from him just as Paul Atreides returns to the room. He slowly walks towards you, his sword dripping with black Harkonnen blood. And you decide that if anyone spills blood in this room, it will be you. It must be you.
So when Paul is about to approach you and stab Feyd in the back, you close your eyes and stab Feyd with his sword. You hear him let out a shaky breath as his black blood slowly seeps from the wound, staining your hands. You keep your other hand on his shoulder, supporting his weight as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you. You try to ignore him, not look at him or in his eyes... you simply cannot. Instead, you stare at Atreides.
Paul is beyond shocked by your actions. He looks for a moment at Feyd's black sword, the tip sticking out of his back—proof of what you did. After a moment, his eyes meet yours. After a while, he approaches you, sheathes his sword, and smiles proudly.
"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N." He says this, offering you his hand, which you reach for. You shake them, glaring at each other, assessing each other's behaviour as a new agreement forms between you.
You smile, hiding your fear as best as you can and holding back tears when you see Feyd's unconscious body out of the corner of your eye. But you've come too far to change your mind. From now on, you decide your fate.
Only you.
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To be continued...
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coco-loco-nut · 4 days
Text
Stolen
pairing: grid x wolff reader
summary: the grid just can’t help but steal you any time you show up to a race, you just want to pass your classes
a/n: short blurb! thanks for the request, sorry it took so long 🫶
requests open masterlist
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“Pup, come look at this,” Lando drags you away from the Mercedes garage, where you just sat down.
“Lando, I just got here. Can’t I relax on my day off?” you pout. Every time you come to the track, someone is stealing you from your parents. That’s what happens when you are raised on the track.
“Ah, Miss Wolff, how is school going,” Zak asks when Lando drags you in.
“It’s going. Today is my day off, I was going to spend it with my parents,” you give Lando a pointed look.
“Quit complaining, come on,” Zak shakes his head as Lando drags you away.
“What did you want to show me?” you sigh as Lando leads you to his drivers room.
“My new line, a hoodie for you,” Lando hands you a soft hoodie.
“Thank you, but you couldn’t bring it to me?” you frown.
“But then I wouldn’t be able to hang out with you,” he pouts.
“You want to hang out with a teenager? I appreciate your friendship Lando, but I need to study for my exams and it’s hard to do that when everyone steals me from the garage,” you tell him, hoping he understands since he finished school while racing.
“I do, you are fun. I also get that you have to study, even if it is your day off school. I’ll see you later?” Lando says, hugging you.
“Yeah,” you hug him back before going back to Mercedes. On the way back you get stolen by Logan, Zhou, Fred, and Christian, meaning you lost an hour of study time.
“Alright Christian, give me my daughter back,” Toto shakes his head when he finds you in the Red Bull garage after your SOS text.
“Bye Uncle Christian,” you give him a little salute as you walk out with your dad.
“I can send out a message asking everyone to stop kidnapping you,” Toto suggests, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“No, don’t, it makes them so happy,” you chuckle, even if you are a little annoyed. You grew up in the paddock and loved everyone here.
“Whatever you say. Why don’t you use my office to study? Maybe that will help,” he says, leading you to the motorhome.
“She can use my driver room, no one will look for her there,” George chimes in. He and Lewis will always be your favorite current drivers, even if they are trying to set you up with Kimi or Ollie. George’s idea works, and you get a couple quality hours to do your work.
“Sweetheart, it’s time for George to get ready for the practice session,” your mom pops in as you are putting your books away.
“Thank you, Georgie,” you hug the driver who hugs you back.
“Carmen is waiting for you with a coffee,” George winks, stepping into his room. Your mom takes you to hospitality where you find Carmen waiting.
“You are the best older sister ever,” you say, taking the iced coffee from her.
“I figured you needed something after the boys bothered you all day,” she laughs. The two of you watch the practice with your mom, watching the boys pull out a P3 and P4 for FP1.
“That’s it, Kid, you are staying here all weekend and every race,” Lewis tells you once he’s back in the garage. You are his good luck charm, he’s called you that since you were little.
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georgerussell63 great weekend for the fam 👊 oh and ig @/ynwolff was there too
lewishamilton just two guys and their dad
ynwolff this is me erasure 😭
ynwolff dislike button ➡️
jensonbutton what did i do other than help raise you, Pup 🥺
ynwolff sorry uncle jense, love you 🫶
mercedesamgf1 if the rest of the grid would stop stealing my daughter, she’d be in this picture 😐 - toto
scuderiaferrari No. - Fred
landonorris I agree with Fred
williamsracing technically we had the Wolff family first…
user1 find someone who looks at you the way the merc team looks at each other
ynwolff ew, no that’s my dad and older brothers
user2 LMFAO
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theliteraryarchitect · 3 months
Text
A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing
In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.
If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.
Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.
Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”
A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.
Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.
There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:
Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.
So what to do?
First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.
Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.
Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.
Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.
Hope this helps!
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runnning-outof-time · 4 months
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Hi K, I hope you’re doing well!🤍
I just wanted to make another request, if that’s alright with you. “I’ll break before I bend.” with Tommy?
Loving your blurbs by the way!
Thanks for sending this in, Reb @peakyswritings ! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it — I hope you like what I did with it! I decided to use my family from my Girl Dad series because it’s been too long since I’ve written for them (a thank you goes out to the anon who messed me a little while ago asking about them). Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
Just Some Puppy Love
Tommy Shelby x Reader (family from the Girl Dad series)
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Warnings: none - just Tommy being overprotective of his daughter
Word Count: 922
Summary: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.
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“How was school today, darling?” (Y/N) asked her daughter as the she entered the home.
“It was great, mum!” Thea answered, a beaming smile on her face. “I even got to see Evie’s class during lunch!” she added, turning to look at her younger sister, who was nodding profusely.
“That sounds lovely,” (Y/N) smiled, thanking the family’s driver, who tipped his cap at her before returning to the vehicle. “Did anything else exciting happen?” she asked no girl in particular as the three went into the front room.
“Billy was being very nice to me! We played together at recess, and he even shared his purple crayon because mine was too little to use,” Thea was the first to speak up.
“Uncle Arthur’s Billy?” (Y/N) asked out of curiosity. She didn’t think that the cousins were in the same class, but she could have seen him during some other point in the day.
“No, Billy from my class,” Thea chirped while collecting her papers from her bookbag, “he’s always very nice to me. Sometimes we even hold hands and walk around the playground.”
“Oh,” (Y/N) drew out the word, nodding her head slowly. Thea said this in such a nonchalant way; like her mum was supposed to know about this beforehand.
“I scored the highest on my maths test today, mummy!” Evie jumped into the conversation, a beaming smile now present on her face.
“That’s lovely to hear, Evie,” (Y/N) smiled at the little girl while looking at Thea - who had now started on her homework - through the corner of her eye.
Boy, oh boy did she have something to tell Tommy this evening.
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“The girls are all down?” Tommy asked as his wife entered his office later that night.
“Juniper fused a little, but they’re all asleep now,” she answered him with a smile as she made her way over to her usual spot on the chaise lounge. She couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide her smile as she finally made eye contact with him.
“What?” Tommy asked, catching onto her expression rather quickly.
“Nothin’,” she brushed him off, glancing down at her fingernails as she picked them.
“You can’t just send that expression my way and then say that it’s nothing,” he commented.
“Well I’ve just done that,” she countered.
“Tell me, (Y/N),” he demanded, his voice dropping to a low level.
“It’s nothing…” she started looking to him again, watching as his mouth opened to argue with the words she said. She continued before he could, “but you’re going to make a big deal over it.”
“Over what?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“Thea might have a boy in her class that fancies her.”
“No,” Tommy shot the idea down within seconds, “impossible.”
“Quite possible considering she told me all about it when she came home this afternoon,” (Y/N) commented. “It’s not a big deal,” she brushed the matter off then.
“Oh but it is. She’s only eight. The boys in school don’t need to be fancying her,” he insisted.
“She is eight, Tommy. There’s no harm in a little puppy love,” she flipped the narrative. Tommy didn’t seem to be buying it. “Besides, they’re not even…”
“Oi, I’m being serious here,” he cut into her defense, his eyes wide, “I’ll break before I bend on this one, (Y/N). No boys. Not for a long time.”
(Y/N) looked at her husband with pursed lips. The intense expression that he was wearing surely worked on his adversaries, but it did nothing to her. “You’re being dramatic about this,” she stated after a few moments had passed.
“I’m not,” he shook his head.
“You are,” she doubled down with a nod. “There’s no reason for a response like that. It’s not like she’s going to go and marry this boy tomorrow. They’re just holding hands on the playground and sharing crayons in class,” she explained the reality of the situation. One look in his direction told her that he wasn’t quite convinced. With a sigh, she stood from her chair. “I know…” she started, moving around his desk so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “she’s your first born…your little girl.”
“She is,” Tommy answered in a huff, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes.
(Y/N) paused for a few beats, leaning down to rest her chin on top of his head as she looked at the photograph of their three girls that sat on his desk. “You don’t need to be worrying about this stuff right now,” she said in a soft voice as she clasped her hands together over his chest. She heard him sigh as he rested his head against her arm. A smile graced her lips as she thought of something to add, “you have another ten years, at least.”
“(Y/N). Don’t,” his voice was low, the two words coming out in a warning. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling anyway.
“I’m teasing you, Tommy,” she told him, pressing her lips to his hair.
“I know. But I still don’t appreciate it,” he answered her, his voice soft now as he turned his head and pressed a similar kiss to the skin of her arm.
(Y/N) smiled at the gesture. This wouldn’t be the last conversation about boys fancying their daughters that they would have. But she knew that Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that his girls were safe and got the best.
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*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully get sent out
MASTERLIST
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