#muxshwrites

[muxshwriting]

never too late

Jake Seresin x reader

summary: jake gets a phone call that changed everything || warnings: hospitals, best friend Jake, pregnancy, childbirth, pushing my girldad jake agenda, but the baby's not actually his || word count: 997 || masterlist

You'd known Jake since you were kids, growing up a few doors down from each other in Texas and spending most of your time with each other. There was nothing more that had happened, despite your wishes. When Jake joined the Navy, you naturally drifted apart but always found the tie to be there for him.

You had made it to his graduation, he had made it to your graduation from college. By sheer coincidence, you had managed to land a job near Jake's stationed post and it felt like nothing could come between you two. Then he got the phone call he had never expected.

"Jake? Can you come and pick me up? I'm at the hospital."

One phone call turned his whole life around. Jake came tearing into your room, his eyes searching erratically.

"You're alright?"

You nod, not saying anything because if you did, you would start crying.

"What's wrong?"

You always forgot how easily he could read you, your emotions, your mannerisms. There was no hiding anything from him. "I'm pregnant."

"Are we happy about that?" Jake asked carefully.

"I don't know." The tears are forming in the corners of your eyes and you can't hold them back.

"Okay." Jake perched on the bed next to you. "Okay. We'll figure it out. Do you know the Dad?"

"I already called him. He doesn't want it, says he'll sign his rights away if I have it. But I don't know."

He pulls you into him, letting your tears stain his shirt. He's whispering anything into your hair to calm you, to reassure you that it would be alright. You'd figure it out, it wouldn't be like this forever. If you needed him, he's there. You only have to ask and he's on your side.

And Jake kept to his word. When you decided to keep the baby and raise it yourself, he was there by your side, promising to teach your child everything he could. He accompanied you to every appointment, cradling your bump as it grew and setting up the nursery for you.

He gripped you hand tightly as the nurse moved the ultrasound wand over your stomach. "Everything's looking good, do you want to know the gender?"

On instinct, you look to Jake but he's already grinning at you. He motioned his head towards the screen.

"Yes please."

The tech turned the screen around so you could see your baby and Jake's grip tightened even more. "Congratulations mom and dad, you're having a baby girl."

The elation you feel doesn't give you a pause to correct the tech and Jake doesn't correct her either as he's pressing a kiss to you forehead and beaming even brighter. "A girl! We're having a girl." In your happiness, you don't have the heart to correct Jake either. And part of you doesn't want to.

As time passed, you regretted not acting on your feelings when you were younger so that Jake could be the father of your child, so he would be part of your new family. But that was delusion, he was your best friend. He didn't love you like that, he couldn't.

You put the thought aside as a pain rippled down your side and a liquid rushed down your legs and the panic set in. You knew this was coming but nothing prepared you for the startling realisation that you would met your daughter today. There's only one person you can call.

For the second time in his life, Jake receives a phone call turned his whole life around.

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure!"

"You're home?"

"Yes."

"I'm coming to get you."

He's there in record time, fussing over your bag as he practically carries you to his truck, too concerned to let you walk. The concern didn't stop as he rushed you into the hospital and over to the desk.

"Mom, Dad are we ready?"

"I'm ready to get this baby out of me!"

"Let's get started."

Your contractions rip through you, your progress slow ad steady. And when you were finally ready, the uncertainty bled into your bones. "I can't do this."

Jake, who had been diligently guarding your bed side, squeezed your hand. "You have walked through hell to be here, to birth this baby. This will not defeat you." Jake's words sent a shiver down your spine. "You're undefeatable. Say it for me."

"I- I'm undefeatable?"

"You're undefeatable." He agrees. "You're gonna have this baby."

It's as you're staring into his eyes, unaware of the situation around you that you find the strength to confess. "I love you."

Jake smiles but it's not a smile of pure happiness. It holds a subtle sadness like he thinks you don't mean your words. "I love you too, but let's have a baby, yeah?" Without another word, he clambers up onto the bed behind you and settles so your leaning against him.

A contraction ripples through as you focus on the feeling on Jake behind you, his hands cradling yours as he presses constant kisses into your hair. You're sobbing by the end of it, catching your breath as the doctor looks up at you.

"We'll push on the next one, okay?"

You nod but turn to face Jake. "I love you, I'm sorry but I mean it."

A light bursts in his eyes but the pain returns before he can answer. You're pushing with all your might, unsure if you can actually do this. Then his voice is in your head, echoing through your mind.

"I love you, I've always loved you. You can do this, I love you, you can do this. Please, we're gonna have a baby. I believe in you."

With a final breath, your daughter's scream fill the room and you slump back onto Jake. She's brought to you and placed on your chest, the picture of perfection as you can't take your eyes off her.

"She's perfect." You whisper.

"She's you, of course she'd be perfect."

[google1000]

Harry Potter: Fantastic Beasts Masterlist

Oldest ~ Top Of Section

Youngest~ Bottom of Section

⭐️-Smut ❤️-Fluff 💔-Angst 🚫-None 💙-Incorrect Quote

🪢- Polyamorous 🍷-Alcohol🩸-Blood ☠️-Death 🤰-Pregnancy

🚺-Female Character 🚹-Male Character ⚧- Gender Neutral Character

🌷- Platonic Relationships ��- Romantic Relationships 🪻- Friendship

Theseus Scamander

Kissing Under Mistletoe After Propose To You by MyRiadImagines❤️⚧

Being Theseus’ Soulmate Would Include by CumberHoe❤️⚧️

His Brother’s Keeper by IriDecSense⭐️🚺🌻

Young, Dumb In Love by ObsessedWithFictionalMen❤️🤰🚺

Kinktober Day 29 by TheRavenclawLover⭐️🚺🌻

Newt Scamander

Newt Scamander Relationship Headcanons by JakesCakeIsLateForOurDate❤️⚧

His Brother’s Keeper by IriDecSense⭐️ 🚺🌻

A Nifflers Love by MadisonsHoneyBun❤️🚺

We Always Do… by MuxshWriting💔❤️🚺

Incorrect Quotes

Newt & Tina Incorrect Quote by FuckBoyGraves💙

[muxshwriting]

a world of dreams

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

summary: Feyd’s wife was always branded as a dreamer, content to spend a day in her books. but her husband would always entertain her dreams, especially when they save her life /or/ basically the request || warnings: violence, haters gonna hate, death, blood || word count: 1658 || masterlist

REQUEST: I’ve always wondered how Feyd Rautha would handle having a wife like Helaena who speaks in riddles and flinches at loud noises and violence. Maybe an Atreides daughter they’re supposed to create the Kwisatz Haderach with? In a Universe where Jessica stayed loyal to the bene Gesserit. I’d love to know how someone like Feyd would react to her telling him he’s scared the way Helaena does to Aegon in hotd. Maybe he’d have very little patience for her but I could also see him bonding with someone like that. Also I think that someone with Helaena’s ability to retreat inside her own mind would be able to survive on Giedi Prime.

Your fate had been set in stone since your very conception, meant to mend the relationship between two houses that had been at war for centuries and bring forward the greatest mind the universe had ever seen. Jessica had trained you in the Bene Gesserit way since you were young, always believing that your bloodline would be famed for generations after.

But you didn’t want to be famed or revered or feared. You wanted nothing more than to be loved, completely loved. When you learned of your betrothed, there was a sadness that overtook you, an accepting that your husband may never truly love you. He was famed for his cruelty, his majesty in the arena and his fighting prowess. He was not known for his ventless and his love, no Harkonnen ever had been.

The first time you met eyes with your future husband, there was a silent understanding that passed between you two. He was a young boy, barely older than you and yet he looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps there could be a connection between you two, despite your afflictions.

Your father called it dreaming, ignoring whatever technical explanation your mother held. There were things you saw that no sane man could explain and yet they were always true. They came to you in the silent moments of the day, when you read or sketched. You had loved it growing up, seeing glimpses of things yet to come but as you grew, they only ever turned darker.

The diplomatic visit to Geidi Prime was short and yet long enough for you to spend a few hours alone with Feyd. There was an itching under your skin from being on the planet, a discomfort that lingered as you pushed down any dreams that threatened to reveal themselves.

You sat across from Feyd, your hands twisting in your lap.

“What do you like to do?” His voice was soft, always soft when he was with you but the sterness returned the moment someone else entered the room.

You wondered if someone had shared your condition with him. “I read. I draw.” Around him, you didn't feel the necessity to boast of your suitable talents your parents had raised you on. The itching had ceased, even if it was just for a moment. “You?”

“I fight- I'm good at fighting.” He corrected himself. For a moment it seemed like he was done talking, but then he met your gaze and continued. “I don't have much to time to do things I like.”

“Perhaps when we are wed, you will have time to explore things you enjoy.” You meant nothing by it, only that you hoped your husband could find a hobby not controlled or pushed onto him by his Uncle.

Feyd smiled in response and you got the distinct feeling that everything would be alright if you married him. But you could not marry him without guilt unless you told him yourself what you were.

“I dream.” You say, unsure of how to tell him.

Feyd was slightly amused, “You dream? I’m sure many do.”

“No.” You quickly reply. “I see things, visions almost. They are never truly clear, only glimpses of the future.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t want you to marry me if you didn’t know. I only hope you understand and do not judge me for something beyond my control.”

Feyd’s expression softened as he took stock of the panicked breaking out of your being. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

The hopefulness in your eyes glistened as you stood, offering Feyd a small bow before leaving the room and returning to your mother and father.

When your day of union arrived, it was a rather happy occasion. Your family smiled as you stayed by Feyd’s side, your hand twisted with his. There was a soft and genuine look of almost-love everytime he looked at you. All that look needed was time to evolve into true love that would pull him under without hesitation. Feyd would let himself be taken by everything you are and he would even beg for it. Your mother and father could see the affection you already shared and knew nothing would come between you.

The Baron, on the other hand, had indifference covering his face all day. This was not a joyous occasion, but a simple ceremony that had to be done in order to end the conflict he wanted to continue. However, this union would bring him more power than war would, and he would just have to accept that.

Feyd reached for two glasses and passed one to you, raising his in a toast. “To the rest of our lives?”

“To the rest of our lives.” You agreed, clinking your glass with his and taking a drink.

Once you had placed your glass back down, Feyd leant forward to capture your lips, letting his heart float like only you could make him. Your marriage was nothing more than picturesque. There was finally peace felt throughout the universe and yet there were some who were still not happy.

The Emperor, despite suggesting the match to weaken the houses and cause friction, watched as they came together in love and only grew stronger. The Atreides were a threat to his reign long before, but with the Harkonnens now as allies, there was nothing that could stop them if they desired his throne.

The final straw came when news of an heir flowed throughout the Imperium. The Atreides and Harkonnens would soon have an heir that would bind them with blood, for eternity.

Your husband had been even more protective of you since the beginning of your pregnancy, barely wanting to leave you alone. The dreams had shown you your daughter, a beautiful girl that was the mix of both you and Feyd. But there was one persistent dream that shook you to your core.

“Feyd?”

“Yes my love?” The nickname had never stopped, ever since the wedding.

“I'm afriad.”

Feyd's face flashed with confusion for a moment as his eyes darted around the room. “What are you afraid of my love? Our families are united, no one would dare stand against Harkonnens and Atreides united. The babe is well, she is growing stronger by the day.”

“There are snakes crawling through the city.” Your voice is a whisper, trembling with every word. You weren’t really aware of what your words meant, only repeating what your mind brought forward.

Feyd smiled at his wife’s words. “There are no snakes on Geidi Prime, my love. They cannot survive here.” He takes a seat next to you, pulling you closer to him as if to protect you.

“They will worm their way to our palace.”

“Then I will double our guard and order lockdown at the slightest threat.” He said it with such conviction that you were almost convinced.

“But-“

“What have I said?” Feyd asked you. “I would never let anything hurt you or our children. There is nothing that can get into our palace unless I will it.”

You let the dream sit in the back of your mind, pushing it away from thought but not forgetting. And it did you well not to forget when you couldn’t sleep one night and a echoing crash startled you. No one else awoke and you took the risk to glance outside your room, where your guards stood to attention.

“Is everything alright Na-Baroness?”

You forced a smile. “All is fine. Just… stay alert.” With nothing else to say, you turn and return to your bed.

Feyd was not disturbed but you found yourself reaching under his pillow to touch the knife he always kept there. It was a reassuring reminder that if your dream came true tonight, there was something Feyd could do. You lay, the blank ceiling taunting you and your ears hearing every footstep and breath people made.

It was only as you had begun drifting back to sleep that a muffled shout came from the hallway and your heart stuttered. You reached over, shaking Feyd awake as he quickly looked around before settling his eyes on your own frantic ones.

“What’s going on?”

Your breath trembled once more. “The snakes are here.”

At your words, Feyd reached for the knife and practically jumped out of bed, directing you to the corner of the room furthest from the door, furthest from harm. The thump of a body was heard and Feyd tightened his grip, activating his shield.

Two men, Imperial soldiers burst through the door and you caught sight of the bodies of two others as well as your guards. Terror gripped you, a hatred of blood instilled in you since you were a young girl. Your hand flew to your mouth as you shrunk into the corner even more, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Feyd leapt forward, his body practised in fighting people at a moments notice. His knife carved flesh, splattering blood over the room. A small scream escaped your lips as the bodies crashed to the floor and your husband stood in the centre of your room, blood dripping from the knife still in his hand.

He turned to face you, throwing the knife across the room and rushing towards you. You practically threw yourself into his arms and he squeezed you close to his chest and rested his head on yours.

“You’re okay.” He said, letting you feel his steady heartbeat against your rapid one. “The snakes are gone.”

“The snakes-?”

“They’re gone. We’re okay.” He pulled away just enough to take your hand and pull it down to your stomach. “She’s okay, you’re okay. We are all okay. No one can hurt you.”

You let your panic settle and relax into his arms. Everyone’s alive. You can manage whatever comes next, you can let the snakes try but they will never be able to bite you.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

[muxshwriting]

alone together

Seth Clearwater x reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't realise his own strength. it doesn't usually bother you until you realise that he's leaving something more permanent with his hugs || warnings: bruises, being loved to death, mentions of insecurity (like one sentence), characters aged up to like 18ish || word count: 921 || masterlist

The moment Seth imprinted on you, he knew the rest of his life would be perfect. He'd heard from the others how amazing it felt to find your imprint but no one truly prepared him for when he first saw you. You'd been friends before he shifted but when he saw you again months after that, when he truly saw you, it was like nothing else in the world.

You spent almost every evening at the Clearwater's, your own parents understanding how much Seth meant to you. He quickly became your everything, your day was never good unless you saw him. And your day was never perfect until you were wrapped up in one of his hugs.

"Better?" His arms wrapped around you until they were pressing into your skin. Sometimes you needed to feel like your body wasn't yours, that you and him were one and the same so that his perfectness might rub off on you.

You hum in response, burrowing further into his neck and relishing in his warmth. The pair of you are sitting on the sofa at his house, simply taking time to be with each together without needing to do anything else. "Just a rough day."

His touch sooths you as his comforting weight around your midsection deepens and calms the feeling crawling through your chest. "You wanna talk about it?" His voice is muffled against you but the concern in it has your heart melting.

"No. It's getting better."

"Happy to help."

Almost a week later you're helping Leah bake some cookies for the pack at her house. Seth's out on patrol with a few of the other boys. You lean against the counter before going back to upright with a hiss of pain.

"You okay?"

Your eyes widen as you turn to Leah. "Yeah. It's fine."

"It doesn't sound fine."

"It's just a bruise."

Leah seems to relax that it's not serious. "Oh. How did you bruise your side? Fell off the bike or what?"

You laugh at her suggestion but don't answer the question.

"How'd you do it?"

"Um... It's from Seth."

"From my brother Seth? Your imprint? My little brother Seth?" Leah's face turned cold as her mind ran to the worst possibility.

"Not on purpose!" You're trying to reassure her but it only makes her more suspicious. "I had a rough day at work and stuff ad I just needed him to hold me. But with his wolf strength I guess he hugs a little too tight. I didn't even notice until a couple days ago."

Leah ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it slightly as she processed what she heard. "Does he know?"

"I don't want him to worry. Or not hug me because of it."

"Show me."

Slowly, you pull up the hem of your shirt, revealing the bruised and inflamed skin of your side and bottom of your ribs.

Leah has a sharp intake of breath as she sees the extent on your injury. "We might need to tell my mom about this."

You pull your shirt back down, gently wrapping your arms around you as if to shield yourself. "It's fine." You dismiss.

"It's really not." Leah argues. "Just let her check."

She's not giving in anytime soo so you concede. "Okay. But I don't think she can do anything about it. She's just gonna tell me to put a heat pack on it, which is why I have Seth."

Seth, at that very moment, comes back from patrol and waltzes in. "What do you have me for?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist. It takes everything in you to not hiss as he rests his hand on the bruise as Leah raises an eyebrow at you.

"Don't worry about it." You kiss him back, letting you senses be surrounded by him for a moment before Leah clears her throat.

"It's not nothing. Tell him."

Seth, ever oblivious, asks "Tell me what?"

You sigh, reaching for the hem of your shirt but not lifting it yet. "You know how I had a rough day last week?"

"Yeah..."

"And you hugged me really tight cos I asked you to?"

"Yeah."

"It kinda left a bruise. But it's fine! Leah's making it out to be a much bigger deal than it is and all I need is my personal hot water bottle and it'll be healed in no time." You lift the hem of your shirt to show him and Seth immediately starts fussing.

"Babe, this is a big bruise."

"It doesn't hurt that bad." Just at that moment Seth rests his hand on top and you can't stop the groan you let out. "...Only when I touch it."

"I want my mom to look at it."

"That's what I said!" Leah cried.

The two siblings started talking over one another about the best thing to do, whether they should go right now, whether you should even move or if it's best for you to go to bed. Their voices grew louder than just talking and you felt yourself shrinking back from them.

"I'm sorry."

Seth's mood immediately charges as he cups your face. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, okay? I'm sorry I did this to you."

"I don't want you to be sorry."

"Why don't we just go upstairs and cuddle, yeah? More gently this time."

You nod in response.

"Mom can have a look later. Let's just do nothing."

"Do nothing together?"

"Of course."

[muxshwriting]

coming home

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: max makes the decision no one thought he actually would. and he made the decision for you || word count: 950 || masterlist

You’re screaming as Max crosses the line. Yes, it’s P5 but it’s a championship secured. The team around you erupts as their dreams come true. There was a huge sense of anticipation as you ran through the pit lane towards parc ferme and towards him. You watch as he jumps out of the car with a weight visibly off his shoulders. He runs towards you, not a glance at anyone else.

“I’m so proud of you!” You’re shouting over the noise of the crowd but Max only hears you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you Schatz. For a second I didn’t think I would.”

“You made it. You won.”

He tears his helmet off, crashing his lips into yours and he finds himself home. The rest of the night is a blur as you watch Max receive his well earned celebrations for a season hard-fought. There’s nothing that could sour yours or his mood as the night burns on and Max goes from interview to interview, waiting for the time he can drink so much he forgets.

“Max, congratulations on the championship win. Would you like to speak about how much this means to you after this year?”

Max rubs a hand through his hair and adjusts his hat, a nervous tick he’d always had as he brought the microphone to his jaw. “Yeah. This championship means a lot because we weren’t sure it was going to happen earlier in the season. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without my amazing team working so hard to make the car as good as it could be. It’s the people around us who push us to be the best versions of ourselves.”

Max can’t hope to get away sooner, to his team waiting to celebrate and to you. There’s always a choice in the back of his mind that tells him to abandon everything and run for the hills with you. Except this time, with the championship tucked in his belt, he’s not sure what’s stopping him anymore.

The triple header came to a close in Abu Dhabi, Max closing his season out with a glorious win but there’s a feeling in your gut that tells you Max is going to say it. You’d discussed his retirement before, and you’d always tried to persuade him to stick out his contract. You would tell him that you both had time to live your lives after his career. The last thing you wanted was for Max to throw his dream away for you.

A champagne-drenched Max finds you after the podium hiding in his driver’s room. “You’re going to announce it, aren’t you?” You quietly ask, not wanting to ruin the joy but needing an answer.

Max grinned, stripping his race suit from his body. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

“Then you know I am.”

“Max-“

He calms your worries with a simple declaration. “I love you. I know this is what I want. I’ve had my time, I don’t need anything more than you.”

You bite back the sting of tears and pull Max into a hug, pressing your lips against his.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers to you. “You’re okay with this?”

”Yes. I love you.”

With a kiss to his cheek, you send him to the hounds of journalists in the press conference and promise you’ll be right here when he’s done. It takes a moment for the right time to arise but when Max is asked a question about his hopes for the future, he only knows one answer.

“The future? My future? I’m retiring from formula one... effective immediately. I will be taking no more questions at this time. Thank you.”

And with that, Max put down his microphone. He stood and carefully removed his red bull hat and took a moment to simply look before he placed it where he had been sitting. He ignored the journalists practically screaming at him and the cameras that sounded like static. Without a word, he walked out of the door and promised himself he would never return.

The second he walks out of the door, your arms are wrapped around him and he falls into your embrace. Your words flow through him without being absorbed as he remembers and realises exactly what he’s done. A part of him will miss this life but most of his heart is grateful he stopped before it consumed his very being.

He had proved himself, set records for the ages and done what any formula one driver aims to do: win championships. Was it so unfair to want a different life than the one he had grown into? Was it so unfair to want that perfect family with a beachfront penthouse in Monaco or even a country home in the Netherlands? A house that always had spare bedrooms for guests to drop by, a house with love radiating from its walls and beauty running through it’s floors. Was it so unfair to want that before life slipped past him and he was a 40-year-old driving for a bottom ranking team trying to keep the dream alive?

But Max had a different dream now, a dream nothing could stop him from achieving.

Four years later, that dream is most certainly in progress as you sit in the window of that Dutch country home watching Max as he runs after your eldest daughter. There’s a babe in your arms and a feeling that nothing will ever be as perfect as this. There have been no regrets about leaving racing and no regrets about leaving that whole world behind.

Who knows what the future will bring? That’s the best part, it’s your future.

[muxshwriting]

articulate

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

summary: Feyd realises how much he misses his wife despite seeing her everyday || warnings: grovelling?, guilt, violence, anger || word count: || masterlist

read the precursor to this: voiceless

REQUEST: would you be able to write a part two to voiceless, where feyd becomes more interested in spending time and being seen with his wife, even around others while she grows more content without him (maybe finding other people/friends for company). kinda like a “falling in love too late” kinda thing? thanks sm ❤️

You had withdrawn from your husband, done the bare minimum that was expected of you. It was what was expected of you, and the members of Harkonnen High Society were glad to see you taking your proper place. It seemed the only person not enjoying your new role was you. Even your husband was far more contented by having his days without bother and to not be questioned everytime he did anything.

But as time wore on, it started as the little things Feyd noticed he now lacked: the small glances you shared with him across the table, a squeeze of his hand before he stood, a gentle kiss to greet him. Now he ate alone, with you eating in your own chambers. You greeted him in the morning with a cold nod, no words exchanged.

He wondered what you did with your days, supposing you now lived a very lonely existence. He supposed that was the life of all noble woman, for that was the tradition of Geidi Prime and House Harkonnen, their women were nothing more than grabs for power and means to an heir.

But the more he thought, the more he doubted his family’s tradition. His familial tradition was to murder one another, why should he follow a tradition that would have his son murder you once he came of age. Perhaps tradition needed changing, perhaps he would pay you a visit, invite you to join his some days. Then again, maybe that was guilt. And Feyd-Rautha didn’t feel guilt, for anything or anyone.

“Wife!” His voice echoed as he walked into your shared chambers one evening. You were sat reading a book and glanced up as he entered.

“Yes husband?” You replied to him, placing your book down and moving to stand.

“I want to accompany me tomorrow.”

His words sent a wave of confusion through you. There were no noble visits scheduled in the coming days, nothing that would require you by his side. “Accompany you? May I ask where?”

“To my duties.” Feyd said it like it was obvious. “I have been neglecting my duty to you. Is it an offence for a husband to require his wife’s company?”

The words were said without true care behind the words and you felt your stomach twist as you reached for your book once more. “I regret to inform you that I have engagements tomorrow that I must attend to.”

“Cancel them.”

You look up at his incredulously. “Excuse me? I cannot simply cancel my plans on a moments notice because of your whim.”

Feyd bit back his anger at your rejection, ignoring the sting of pain that sat at his heart. “Very well. When do your engagements cease?”

“I am a busy woman, I barely spend a day alone nowadays. Forgive me for not keeping my schedule free and spend my time wallowing in loneliness. I can free up the day after tomorrow. Is that satisfactory for you Na-Baron?”

His wife’s coolness towards him made him doubt his intentions in the first place. Finally, he nodded solemnly, turned on his heel and exited the chamber.

Unknown to Feyd, his wife had been finding her entertainment and pleasure in other ways, finding any way to spend a day with others. It had began with her handmaiden, just a few hours helped a friendship blossom that then extended to her friends within the servants. They had created a bond that could not be broken, a space where they were not servants and she was not Na-Baroness.

Many of the servants were slaves from off-world, much how she was a slave to her husband and had been ripped from her own home and her own family to join his. There was a solace in their space she knew Feyd would not understand.

True to her word, she joined Feyd days later, sat in her seat at the breakfast table, and followed three steps behind as she did in the beginning. But there was no longing threaded into every move she made. She did not long for his love anymore, there was not a begging for attention and affection. You didn’t go out of your way to squeeze his hand or press a kiss to his cheek.

Feyd had been expecting your affection. And yet you showed him none. He was your husband but he would not be your lover.

He wished he could be, an affection from you only to him. He wanted the devotion of his wife the same way he wanted air to breathe but you would not be his air. You had found a contented life on Geidi Prime that did not involve bending to your husbands will and crawling at his feet for his love. You would perform your marital duty and spend your days in your chambers or in hidden rooms with your friends where your duty would escape you and your title would be worth nothing.

[muxshwriting]

that lovin' feeling

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

summary: Anthony loves his wife, and he’s not afraid to show it || warnings: an insurmountable amount of fluff || word count: 604 || masterlist

REQUESTED: Omg I'm so glad you're writing for Anthony Bridgerton. Could I request a story where he just got married to reader and them just being in that honeymoon phase and him being all lovie like he was with Kate

He was living in a dream, the most perfect dream anyone has ever had. As he watched you walk down the aisle towards him, his life was completed. Every day he would wake up more in love, perfectly content. It is no secret that Viscount Anthony Bridgerton loves his new Viscountess and that she loves him most vehemently in return. The match was undeniable from the start, the two fitting like they had always belonged.

"Good morning, my love." His voice was the sweet melody you awoke to most mornings, entering your mind and sending warmth through your body. You felt a kiss press itself against your hair as your eyelids flutter open.

"Good morning, my husband." You softly reply.

His face was already covered in a soft smile as he simply looked at you in the morning light. Anthony leaned over to press a kiss into your lips, unable to hide the smile he held. "You’re so beautiful." He whispered, eyes filled with sincerity.

An uncontrollable warmth spread across your face. "Stop it-"

Anthony was hearing none of it. "Why? You are so beautiful and you deserve to be told it every single day. Do you want me to lie?"

"Anthony-"

"I love you."

You can't hide your smile. "And I love you."

His voice dropped back to a whisper. "Then believe me when I tell you how beautiful you are."

"You know, you're very handsome yourself." You gathered yourself to respond.

"Mhm?"

"Almost irresistibly so..."

Pulling yourself from his embrace, you climbed out of bed and reached for a robe. Anthony's hands trailed after you, reaching to try and pull you back into bed. His eyes were silently begging you, almost succeeding in persuading you to drop the day's tasks and spend your time with him in bed.

"Anthony," Your voice had a slight warning to it. "We have things to do."

Anthony grinned as you slowly sat back on the bed. "Some things can wait..."

"Darling~" Your voice lilted slightly as you reached over to pull him upright, knowing you both had unavoidable tasks to do today. "The quicker the accounts are done and I've gone to the modiste with your sisters, the quicker we can return to this bed."

"The quicker we can resume..."

Your smile grows as Anthony finally gets out from under the covers. "If the Viscount desires an heir, I am more than happy to indulge his wishes."

Anthony appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you. "The Viscount can't wait to indulge in his Viscountess."

Anthony let a throaty groan escape as you pulled away from him once more. You spun to place a soft kiss against his lips, savouring how your husband looked in the morning light, hair ruffled and weary-eyed. Anthony cradled your face in his hands, deepening the kiss until you had run out of breath.

"We must go." You whispered against his lips.

"Yes we must." He softly whispered back. "But I shall be waiting for you as soon as my work is finished."

"Our modiste visit will be swift, I promise."

Anthony helped you dress, him lacing your dress and you buttoned his shirt, fiddling with his collar. Both of you didn't want to separate, taking your time to fuss over each other's appearances before heading down to breakfast and out to your respective tasks. Anthony caught you just before entering his office as you were leaving with Eloise and Francesca.

He placed a gentle kiss against your lips and tucked a stray hair behind you ear. "I love you so much."

"And I love you more than words can tell."

[muxshwriting]

almost (sweet music)

Bradley Bradshaw x reader

summary: a summer where you and Bradley remind Maverick of Goose and Carole || warnings: literally one swear word, mentions of pregnancy, childbirth (mentioned) || word count: 793 || masterlist

You had Bradley had met at the Hard Deck and hit it off instantly. You were charmed by his carefree attitude and charisma, and he was charmed by your kindness and your heart. Both of you had found the perfect person to spend the rest of their lives with, to be yourselves with. Bradley had never been more sure about anything in his life when he thought about marrying you. Your family loved him and, in turn, the squadron and especially Maverick, loved you.

Maverick viewed Bradley like a son, and was very particular about the girl that had captured his heart. However, the second he saw you, he was pulled in my your very soul, the pureness that was simply you. Bradley was lucky to find someone so well matched for him. There was something else, though. There were moments where Maverick would glance over to you and Bradley and see Goose and Carole staring back at him.

It began the night you and Bradley got engaged and went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate. As all good nights at the Hard Deck do, it ended with Bradley at the piano. Despite being at least eight beers in, he was rather coherent and playing a recognisable tune. Patrons and other people all joined in on the fun, crowding around the piano. You, smiling unabashedly at your man, were standing directly next to Bradley, leaning against the piano, glass in hand as you sang to whatever he was playing. Bradley had reached up, pulling you closer and down onto his lap. He kissed you passionately, laughing with you as he continued to play, choosing to stare lovingly at you instead of what notes he was hitting.

★--~-~--★

Then came your wedding, a beautifully private affair with a few friends and family members from both sides. Your vows were perfect, encapsulating your love for Bradley in a few short words. “Bradley, there are no words to fully describe how I feel about you but I will say this: I’ve never felt as much comfort as I have whenever I hear your name. It’s so bizarre to have a word that can make you feel so much in a second, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I love you.”

Maverick was thrown backwards to Goose, drunk on his bachelors night out, leaning against Maverick and rambling about his soon-to-be wife. “She’s like the wind beneath my wings. It’s so weird that her name makes everything feel alright whenever I hear it. God Mav, she’s perfect.”

★--~-~--★

Maverick will never forget the day that Rooster came to him with the amazing news that he would become a Great Uncle. Or a great, Great Uncle as he reminded Bradley. He had had a few beers in the back garden, talking about everything and nothing going on with life. “Gods Maverick, I’m gonna be a dad. That sounds terrifying, a good kind of terrifying but still terrifying.”

Goose had come onto base, a giddy grin plastered onto his face. “Carole’s pregnant. We’re gonna have our own little bird in the nest.” His eyes widened as he sighed. “A kid Mav, a whole entire human. That’s crazy.” He had hugged Goose, giving him his congratulations for him and Carole, wishing them the best for the future. Goose had stayed ecstatic for a week after the news, nothing could bring his mood down. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

★--~-~--★

He had gotten the call from Rooster that you’d gone into labour and that his son had been born (his son!), inviting Maverick down to the hospital to meet his great nephew. He got to hold him in his arms, a newborn baby, so small and innocent. “What did you name him?”

Rooster had smiled proudly, “Nick Bradshaw.”

From the bed you had perked up, taking your baby back when Pete handed him over. “His full name, however, is Nick Mitchell Bradshaw. We had to fit you in somewhere.” Maverick couldn’t stop the tears from springing in his eyes as he tearfully embraced Bradley.

“I’m a dad!” Goose was whisper shouting through the phone to Pete, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. “Do you want to come meet him?” Maverick was there as soon as he could be, bring in flowers for Carole and patting Goose on the back. “Uncle Maverick, meet Bradley Bradshaw.” Goose was standing there, a shit-eating grin on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows and Maverick burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

Carole swatted at both their arms, telling them to keep it down for the baby. “Don’t make me regret his middle name.”

“His middle name?” Maverick had asked.

Her expression softened as she glanced over at the baby. “Bradley Pete Bradshaw.”

[muxshwriting]

good luck, babe

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: your husband can't seem to move on from his previous fling, Siena || warnings: cheating, swearing, period typical sexism, pregnancy, arguing || word count: 1898 || masterlist

It was a marriage of convenience, you had accepted that. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was in want of a wife and you were available, from a noble family, mild mannered, loved by his family and tolerable to Anthony himself. You hadn't tricked yourself into thinking there could be love in this marriage. You were there to be a dutiful Viscountess and give the Viscount as many children as he desired. That was your job, that was what you were made for.

There was one thing you had asked of your new husband on your wedding day: you preferred if he didn't go and see other women, but if he did, you didn't want to hear about it.

Anthony had nodded solemnly, agreeing that he wouldn't do that to you. He was a gentlemen, he cared for his wife and his future family. And he had kept your word. After returning for your honeymoon, there had been nights where your husband hadn't returned to your bed. Whether they were late nights in his study or late nights with another woman, you didn't know and you didn't want to know. He spoke nothing of these nights, greeting you with a warm smile as he sat down at the breakfast table, as if nothing was amiss.

Because nothing was. Nothing was, right?

Everything seemed to change when you were with child. Anthony had been ecstatic to learn he'd be a father and offered to do anything and everything for you. You had taken a deep breath and asked him a question. "Will you stop seeing her?"

You didn't need to say anything else for Anthony to know who you were talking about. "Y/N-"

"We're having a child Anthony. I'd like you home to actually be a family, not spending most nights of the week either in your study or at her house. I don't know who she is or if it's more than one girl but can you bring it to a stop, please?"

Anthony's eyes had softened at your explanation as he fervently promised to do better and to be yours. And he was... for a while. He cut back on late nights in his study, spending the darkness in bed with you. But slowly like the tide, he began to pull away, the late nights in his study grew more frequent. You spotted the candlelight under the door the majority of nights as you returned to your cold bedchamber.

He was simply busy, balancing books and handling affairs. In reality, he was handling a different kind of affair. It only took one offhanded comment by his brother Benedict for you to realise what had been happening.

"Do sing us an opera brother. I'm sure your songbird is teaching you a few tricks."

Present tense. she was teaching him, not taught. Your husband was fucking the opera singer. The candles had been a lie to keep you obedient and calm. You were not four months pregnant and Anthony couldn't stop himself from going back to her. It had taken all of your willpower not to slap him across the face after everything he promised you.

You held in your anger for four days, until the other Bridgerton siblings were out of the house. Then, it all snapped. You marched (as well as you could whilst pregnant) to his study, walked in without knocking and slammed the door shut behind you.

"Are you serious?"

Anthony laughed like nothing was wrong. "What do you mean?"

"You're not spending that many nights in your study." You accuse. "You're seeing her, aren't you? The opera singer?"

"Wha- What does it matter to you what I do with my time?" He said it so nonchalantly, as if it wasn't even a problem, like you were overreacting.

"You promised me!"

He rolled his eyes. "Siena's different. She-"

"She's not your wife!" You're practically screaming at him at this point, anger coursing through your veins. "I am!"

"Y/N, calm-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You promised me you were done. I'm carrying your child! It was the one thing I asked of you and you don't even have the decency to do that for me."

Anthony finally stood up. "I am a man. I do not have to obey your every request. I should not be confined."

"Confined?" You found his use of words ironic. "I have married into a family I do not know, to a man who dies not respect me. Not to mention, I am with child. If anyone is confined, it is me. And as you astutely pointed out, you are a man."

He stayed silent for a second as you continued.

"Do whatever you like Anthony. I could not possibly wish to confine you. Go and fuck Siena. In fact, fuck as many girls as you please but don't expect to come home to our bed at night. I'll have the housekeeper arrange separate bedchambers for us and when my child is born, I don't want you anywhere near me."

You turned on your heel and swiftly exited the study, refusing to give your husband another glance. Had you looked back, Anthony's face would have been a myriad of emotions. Some shock, some hurt, anger, but mainly pain.

He knew he'd been callous, taking all your affectionate for himself and giving none back. He left you in bed alone almost every night and betrayed your trust like it meant nothing to him when in truth, it meant a great deal. It was as you said, you were his wife. He was supposed to love you unconditionally, do anything for you. But it was also as you said, you were just his wife. He wasn't the husband he should have been, he wasn't treating you like his wife. He had made a terrible mistake.

Anthony thought he could end whatever was between him and Siena when you asked him too. For almost two months he cast her from his mind, avoiding the places they once frequented, the opera house, the back streets, even the club at times she would be there. But then he had unavoidable business at White's, exactly when Siena was there to entertain the Lords.

She had caught his eye from across the room and he was sucked into her orbit once more. But Anthony had also majorly fucked up. He had broken the one promise his wife had asked him to make. The one thing she had asked of him, he did not do. So he hid all the signs, stayed late in his office, complaining of account books and paperwork constantly. He would kiss you sweetly goodnight and sneak out of his own house to see his mistress.

Siena basked in his attention, his inability to stay away. She knew how to keep Anthony just where she wanted him. The two months without him were torture. No other Lord would treat her as well as Anthony, leaving her more and more money on her nightstand and holding her tightly into the night. So what about his wife, she was just his wife.

You ignored Anthony for days, eating your meals separately to him, at different times, in different places. Every time he would pass you in a hallway he would be met with a blank stare, an expressionless face and utter silence. He begged you to talk to him, to listen to him, to tell him how he could make it up to you but you said nothing. In your opinion, Anthony deserved none of your words. After all, so many of his had been lies.

"Anthony-" His mother was the one lecturing him, asking him why he wasn't with his wife. "You need to do better. This shouldn't have happened and now you need to fix it."

"But how?"

Violet stared at him. "You've broken her trust Anthony. I don't know what you can do to earn that back."

Anthony wasn't sure either but he would try anything until something stuck.

It began with flowers, elaborate bouquets at the dining table and in your room every single day. They were beautiful, filling the house with some much needed colour. Without thought, you found yourself adoring them, before remembering why they were there in the first place. After flowers came the small trinkets, your favourite desserts at dinner, some of Anthony's shirts appearing in your wardrobe because he knew they ere most comfortable for you and your bump.

All the while, Anthony is desperately trying to catch your eye, following you around the house like a moping puppy, begging you to talk to him. All the while, you refuse.

What hurt him most, however, was that you would talk to his siblings without issue, even while he was in the room. But the moment he contributed to the conversation, you returned to silence. It was agonizing, waiting for you to speak to him, knowing he had brought this upon himself, praying you would love him again.

He broke down into tears in his study one night, pushing his work onto the floor and planting his head in his hands as the tears flowed freely. You couldn't sleep, nothing was comfortable, it was too hot or too cold. A loud crash startles you. You push yourself out of bed, wrapping a robe around you tightly and making the slow and tedious journey down the stairs to investigate the noise.

As you reached the foyer, the sound of crying hit your ears. Anthony's crying, from his office. Your heart, which you had been trying so hard to rebuild and protect, broke all over again. Perhaps you had been too harsh on him? Perhaps he deserved you again? Perhaps...

You cracked the door open, Anthony didn't even notice the sound. You sipped inside the study, taking considerate steps towards him until you're stood behind him. His head turned suddenly as he realised someone was stood by him. He hurriedly wiped his eyes, holding back his sobs as he met your gaze.

"Anthony..." His name came out a whisper, the first word you'd spoken to him in days.

Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close to you, holding him tightly and never wanting to let him go. And in the safety of your arms, he completely breaks. His tears begin anew as he whispers apologies back to you. His sentences are nonsensical strings of words that don't really make sense but convey his profound apologies.

"Anthony-"

"My love, please. I'm begging for your forgiveness. I'll do anything, anything for you. Whatever you please, whatever you command. I'm yours." He pulled back from you, holding your hands within his and praying to you. You were his god now.

"Uh-"

He wouldn't let you speak until your forgave him, "I'll never go near the opera again, I swear. She's nothing compared to you. I want to be here for you, for our child. I want them to grow up surrounded by love, like I was. Please-"

You cut him off, diving forward to capture his lips in a kiss. It's salty but Anthony sinks into the kiss, finally holding you in his arms and pulling you even closer towards him. You pull back to breathe, ignoring Anthony's hurt eyes as you do. "I forgive you." You whisper. "But no late nights, alright? Just be with me."

"I'll be with you forever."

if you can't tell, I'm on a bridgerton high rn

[muxshwriting]

you and i (pt. i)

Simon Basset x bridgerton!reader

summary: as Daphne's twin, you were always second to her. but then you meet someone who is only yours, completely devoted to you. nothing will come between the two of you, it is just you and him || word count: 1260 || masterlist

Your twin sister Daphne was the diamond of the season, the belle of every ball and the woman that every suitor desired. You were the second born twin, the second option. Your sister had the pick of suitors so you had free reign of your sister's rejects.

Daphne practically drags you across the ballroom, attempting to avoid the bumbling Nigel Berbrooke once again. He was a horrible man, set on marrying a Bridgerton, either you or your sister. She glances back at you and behind you, accidently bumping into a man weaving the crowd the same way you were.

They traded apologies and you were perfectly fine to continue walking back to your brother but Daphne stayed still, glancing behind her at Lord Berbrooke who continued to follow the pair of you.

"Tell me your name."

"Am I honestly meant to believe you do not know my name?" The man asked, seeming annoyed at Daphne's insistence.

She glanced behind her once again, Berbrooke growing closer. Her eyes met your which were begging her to move along and find Anthony. She ignored you, laughing at an imaginary joke the man had told.

"If you required an introduction, madams, I do believe accosting me to be the least civilised of ways."

"Accosting you?" Daphne was surprised at the mans annoyance but you pulled her slightly backwards.

"I apologise for my sister." You hurriedly said. "We were simply trying to find our brother."

Speak of the devil and he may come, Anthony appeared behind you, calling to the man in front of you.

"Basset. Basset!"

The man's mood immediately shifted. "Bridgerton!"

"I heard news of your father. Deuce take it, you are no longer Basset. Hastings! The Duke of Hastings, now known for evermore." Anthony teased.

Daphne stepped into the conversation, once again dragging you behind her. "The Duke of Hastings is it?"

The Duke turned to face her, but met eyes with you instead as you lifted your head from the floor. His expression seemed to soften for a moment before Anthony spoke again.

"Right, Hastings, these are my sisters."

"Your sisters?" He seemed surprised but brushed it off.

The Duke's eyes kept flicking back to yours as Anthony spoke further. You didn't hear any of it, taken by the Duke's imposing presence. As you walked away, you glanced back to find the Duke staring directly at you. For once, it was you and not your sister that was being looked at. It felt nice, a warmth settled in your chest that could not be shaken off no matter the storm.

And boy does that storm arrive at the very next ball when your sister walks through the crowd, Duke on her arm. They begin to dance and you stand there speechless. Daphne hadn't expressed an inkling of interest in this man and now she was dancing with him, staring lovingly into his eyes as he returned the gesture. What was going on? The rest of the evening passes quickly, a suitor or two asking you for a spin around the floor but none caught your attention. You don't truly process what happened until you're home and preparing for bed.

"Are you courting the Duke?" You burst through the doors to your sister's bedroom.

Daphne seems startled by your suddenness. "It would appear so..."

An unfamiliar feeling stirs in your chest. "Anthony says he does not wish to marry." Daphne hums in response, taking pins out of her hair. "Why do you court him then?"

She shrugs. "He intrigues me. Perhaps he can be changed."

"You haven't seemed interested in him before."

Daphne turns to you, a worried and slightly confused look in her eyes. "Is there something you wish to tell me sister?"

"I-" You aren't sure what to say, you aren't even sure what Daphne is asking. "No! I'm just worried for you. There is nothing I need to tell you."

"Alright... Good night sister."

"...Goodnight."

The season drags on, much to your disappointment. Daphne continues to court the Duke, attracting more suitors than ever. The news of a Prince reaches town and Daphne seems weirdly excited about the prospect of meeting this Prince. The more you thought, the more confusing it became. Your sister and the Duke were courting but she showed no deeper interest in him, nothing more than the surface level conversational skills we were taught to secure a suitor.

Your eyes catch the Duke's at nearly every ball he attends and when your sister comes to stand beside you, The Duke always stands between you. You cannot make any assumptions based on foolish hoping but your heart hopes and it hopes dearly.

Nevertheless, your sister has captured the attention of a Prussian prince, Fredrich. He's devoted to her and she is besotted with him, Duke be damned. They dance as many times as possible at balls, talking and laughing together at every chance they get. The Duke is neglected, attending fewer balls and remaining at the edges of rooms when he does.

It's at one of these balls that he did attend where your watching Daphne dance with the Prince. Simon emerges through the crowd to stand beside you. Your mother is on the other side of the room with Lady Danbury, your brothers nowhere to be seen.

"Miss Bridgerton-" He seems to second guess himself halfway through the sentence. "May I have this dance?"

You can't help the stunned expression that takes over your face. "M-Me? You wish to dance with me?"

He smiles warmly and your soul silently celebrates. "Yes, if you do not mind?"

The smile that covers your face could rival the sun with it's joy. "Please."

Couples filter on and off the dancefloor and the Duke takes your hand, guiding you to the centre. He takes a step towards you until you feel his breath on your cheek. He spins you once, pulling away as he seems to realise where he is. Your breath hitches as his bare hand brushes your gloved one. Then, all too quickly, the dance is over and you leave Simon and the dancefloor, rushing outside for some fresh air.

It feels as though you can barely breath, despite seeing your breath mist in the cold night air.

"Miss Bridgerton!"

Simon is behind you, having come outside to check you were alright. His presence warms you but you shake away the feeling. It's wrong to love your sister's suitor.

"Don't come closer." Simon nods, even taking a step away. "We are not doing this. You are an infamous rake." Simon goes to interject but you continue to speak. "And least of all, you are courting my sister."

Simon sharply inhales. "I am not courting your sister."

"What?" The exclamation leaves your lips before your brain catches up, spinning to face him. "What do you mean you are not courting Daphne? You dance together, you sent her and Mama flowers, you are courting!"

"I was simply helping her find better suitors whilst making myself appear unavailable. It was a ruse, nothing more."

"What of my sister?"

"I do not love your sister." Simon states. "I love you. Besides, your sister is besotted with a prince, our ruse has succeeded and therefore ended. Why would she marry a lowly Duke when she could have a prince?"

Your voice drops to a whisper. "What does this mean... for us?"

Simon smiles. "I'm here if you'll have me. Please-"

You smile shyly at him as you speak your dreams into existence, "My Duke?"

Simon's heart soars. "Your Duke." He quietly agrees.

I did not mean to but I have written a pt. 2 to this which I'll edit and publish next week. season 3 part 1 has got me back in a bridgerton mood, so i will be binging all of part two in a single day

PART II is here!!

[muxshwriting]

my love, my life

Violet Bridgerton x daughter!reader, Bridgerton!reader

summary: Violet and her youngest, Y/N were mirror image. when you debut and fall in love, she faces the reality of letting you go || warnings: growing up, nostalgia, crying sessions when writing this|| word count: 705 || masterlist

Violet Bridgerton had nine children, four boys and five girls. Her youngest two, Hyacinth and Y/N, had surprised her by being twins. Neither of them would ever meet their father and Violet held them closer to her because of that fact. As a child, Hyacinth wanted to discover everything, see the whole house and the gardens and sometimes beyond. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content to curl up on your mother’s lap as she stitched, watching her work.

If anyone ever asked, Violet Bridgerton did not have a favourite child. She loved all her children equally was equally saddened when they, in turn, flew from the nest. But secretly, you were her favourite child, always willing to help your Mama and wanting to spend time with her. You were always content, never causing a fuss or making trouble for her to fix, unlike all your other siblings.

When you debut, you remain by your mother’s side, wary of this new experience. You spend your first season testing the waters of romance, charming suitors but not being interested in any fully. It’s on,y in your second year that you find yourself truly charmed.

Lord William Harding comes from a respectable and wealthy family but most importantly, he understands you. He will gladly spend an afternoon strolling through the park together, not saying a lot but occasionally pointing out something and telling a joke. He makes you feel warm and safe and that’s all you can ask for. It’s starts slowly until you realise that you crave his warming silence and his gentle conversation.

“I think I love him Mama.” The confession came as you were lying across your mother’s lap in the drawing room. Your book had been abandoned and Mama put down her embroidery to look at you.

“You think or you know?”

You meet her gaze, suddenly worried at the realisation. “I love him.”

Violet simply laughs at your concern. “Relax, my love. You have nothing to fear. I see how he looks at you.”

“What does that mean?”

“He loves you.” She says. “Whether he realises yet or not, he adores you.”

“Are you sure?”

Violet simply raises an eyebrow and smiles knowingly, continuing with her embroidery.

Your mother is all-knowing, especially after watching most of her children marry. William continues to court you, constantly looking at you with adoration. You confess your love to him as you dance together at your mother’s ball towards the end of the season and he reciprocates fully, imagining your future together and planning everything. Unbeknownst to you, he calls on your brother the very next day to ask for your hand in marriage. Anthony is well aware of your feelings towards William and gives his blessing willingly.

The time flies through your engagement until you're standing in front of your mother on your wedding day. You can't stop the tears gathering in your eyes as you look at her, knowing this is the final hurdle of your girlhood. Violet grasps your hands tightly in hers and pulls you close.

"You'll always be my daughter, no matter where you are."

"Mama-"

"It's alright to be afraid, it's alright to be unsure. That's love and life."

You dry your tears. "I want this so badly yet I am terrified of leaving you behind."

"I am not left behind." Violet says, convincing you more than she convinces herself. In truth, she is afraid of being left behind. All her children are now married, all will begin families of their own and she'll be reduced to the grandmother who is visited when it's convenient. It's only life, everyone grows up and grows away from their roots.

"I'll always need you." You promise her. Mama hugs you tightly once more before shooing you towards Anthony who was waiting for you by the entrance to the chapel. This was the end of your childhood, walking down the aisle on your brothers arm watching your mother follow behind you. He passing you to William and you find yourself perfectly at ease next to him.

"Take care of her."

"I swear to everything, I will."

Anthony nods once, taking his seat in the front row as the rest of your life begins.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[muxshwriting]

voiceless - drabble(ish)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

summary: being the wife of Feyd mean you aren't afforded the freedoms you once had including your opinion || warnings: borderline abusive relationship, prejudice, sexism || word count: 350 || masterlist

House Harkonnen was known across the galaxy for their brutality. They are heirs of cruelty because they were taught that cruelty will keep them in power. And it was because of that power that your father had decided that you would be wed into their great house.

The youngest nephew of the Baron and his heir, Feyd-Rautha would be your betrothed, your husband. He was barely older than you, a fresh adult with a penchant for blood and suffering and everything his house stood for. It was as if you were to be married to the devil himself.

After your union, there were certain things you'd immediately noticed. Women were objects, slaves or servants to the Harkonnens, they were not equal people. You could tell yourself that your value came from your experience, you intellgience and your knowledge. But in truth, to the Harkonnen's, your value came from your name and your father's money. Perhaps the pretty face helped but the power you were privy to mattered more.

Feyd ignored you most days, only acknowledging your presence when he returned to your chambers. When he did acknowledge you then, it was only to request that you help him change and be ready for bed. You joined him one day, shadowing him but always staying a few steps behind.

“Why do you follow me, wife?”

You pause in your step as your husband turns to face you, a calculating look in his eyes. “Am I forbidden from spending time with you?”

“Our time shared is within our bedchambers.” Feyd said shortly. There was no room for other discussion as he walked further down the corridor and left you standing in silence.

And as it was, the silence returned to your life. Empty chambers where there was nothing to be done all day. You were judged if you went out without Feyd and yet Feyd refused to be seen with you.

He did not care what you did with your day as long as you were not with him. But because you weren’t with him, you could do nothing with your day.

I have been peer pressured. there is now a part two to this: articulate

[muxshwriting]

like father, like son

Bradley Bradshaw x sister!reader

summary: when you crash land, it's not bradley you see coming to save you, it's nick || warnings: plane crashes, head trauma, hallucinating, reader has the callsign hummingbird, broken bones || word count: 1202 || masterlist

"MAYDAY MAYDAY. I'm going down."

Bradley's heart dropped as he watched his sister's plane begin a death spin through the air. Your engine had been washed out sending your plane flying through the air, gradually spinning faster and faster until you couldn't hope to pull it out of the turns.

"Hummingbird, eject." The calm voice of control filtered through your helmet as you reached for the lever between your legs.

Except it didn't move. Your lever was jammed, your canopy wouldn't open. You couldn't eject.

"Negative. My lever is jammed. Repeat, my lever is jammed."

"Try it again. Then go manual."

The worry sets into your bones as you remember your brother is flying with you. "Brad- Roo. I love you-"

Your radio cuts out before Bradley can reply as you start to disconnect everything your connected to, pulling out your comms and removing your oxygen. The plane is still falling to the ground, closer and closer. "Talk to me dad."

Over the radio, Rooster is screaming at you. He's watching your plane get closer and closer to the ground, counting the seconds and waiting to see the parachute release from your plane. But the chute is never released.

"I'm going after her."

"Rooster- No." Maverick began. "They're sending the rescue team out."

"That's my sister Maverick. I'm not gonna leave her to- I'm not leaving her alone."

It doesn't take anymore time for Bradley's brain to decide what he's doing. The moment Bradley's straps were undone, he was jumping from his plane and running to yours. His legs couldn't carry him fast enough as he got closer to the wreckage. There was smoke lazily pouring from the back of the ruined plane that Bradley ignored. He couldn't think about that right now. He clamboured over the wreck, pushing stray pieces of metal out of his way. The cockpit came into view. Except it was empty, you weren't there.

For a split second, the chaos in Bradley's mind calmed as he let himself believe that you had got out in time. But then it returned tenfold. he hadn't seen a parachute deploy and you'd been so close to the ground when he'd looked away. Even if you got out, there's no telling how much damage you'd sustained from hitting the ground.

He screamed your name with a desperation nothing could match. The guttural and heartbreaking sound of a brother who wouldn't survive loosing you. His eyes scanned the landscape until he spotted a bundle of a parachute not too far from the crash. The rope is all tangled and wrapped around the chute as Bradley tear through the fabric and pulls it to let him through.

You're lying in the cradle the chute created. Small cuts and scrapes cover your arms and some of your face from the cords cutting into you as you fell. But what worried Bradley the most was the dripping cut near you temple and the way your leg was crumpled beneath you, bending a way it probably shouldn't. But you're breathing. Your heart is beating and your breathing which means your alive. Bradley hasn't lost you.

Not yet.

He's shaking you awake before his brain catches up and realises that he maybe shouldn't shake someone with a head injury. But you groaned as you came back to consciousness and blearily opened your eyes.

But to you, it wasn't Bradley crouched in front of you, it was your father.

"Dad?"

Your dad frowned, reaching forward and brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "Hummingbird, it's me. It's Roo."

"No. It's Goose. It's Dad, not Roo." Your voice is slurred but you're smiling as you talk to your dad. Or rather who you think is your dad.

Bradley decides it better to let you believe he's his dad than to fight you on this. "Yeah. It's Goose, okay? Are you okay?"

"It kinda hurts."

"What hurts?"

Instead of answering, you sink deeper into delirium. Your smile widens as you push against Bradley's hand that's fussing over you.

"Y/N? Hummingbird, you gotta talk to me. What hurts?"

"Everything." It's a whisper that breaks Bradley's heart. Your smile has dropped, the sheen over your eyes dulled by pain as you seem to come to your senses. "Brad- It hurts."

Bradley's pulling the parachute away from you, unwrapping the cords from your limbs and getting ready to pull you out of the wreck. "I know. But you're gonna be okay. We're gonna get out of here."

"Yeah?"

He can hear the hum of a rescue helicopter growing closer. "Yeah. You're gonna be okay."

"Okay... I love you Roo."

"I know." Brad whispers back. "I love you too Birdy."

Bradley held you close even as the rescue team found you two. He held you even as they checked you for injuries. It wasn't until they had to move you onto a stretcher that he let go but he couldn't leave you alone. He looped his pinky with yours just like you did when you were kids, keeping his hold until he absolutely couldn't. The whole journey back, he held your hand while kneeling at your head whispering anything and everything to you, just so you knew he was there.

He's pulled aside by Maverick as your wheeled down a corridor of the medical centre, finally having to let go. Maverick doesn't let him be deserted for long, pulling him into an embrace that neither wants to end. "She's okay?" He asks just as concerned for your wellbeing.

"She saw Dad."

It's all Bradley says but the mention of Goose sends Mav's head spinning. "She- what?"

"When I found her. It was like she wasn't seeing me there, she was seeing Dad. Mav..." His voice broke as he spoke, the emotions of the last hour pouring out in waves. "I think she'll be okay? Her leg is probably broken, she hit her head but she wasn't majorly hurt any other way."

"Then she'll be okay." Maverick wasn't sure if he was convincing Bradley or himself.

It's hours later that they let Bradley and Mav in to see you, sharing the extent of the damage: a leg broken in two places, a severe concussion, countless scratches and scrapes from the parachute cords and the general rough landing and some bruising all over. But you would be fine. Most importantly, you would be able to fly again.

You stir in the bed, hand twitching as you try and move. Bradley surges forward, holding your hand in his like he had done before. "We're here." He whispered to you. "Me and Mav are here."

"Dad?" It's one word that sends Maverick's heart breaking all over again.

Maverick takes your other hand and presses a kiss to your knuckle. "Uncle Mav's here."

You just smile, squeezing their hands and ignoring the pain. You were back. And maybe your Dad wasn't here but for a split second you could feel him arms around you and you could see him. Maybe he had gone but you still had Bradley and Mav to hold you on the difficult nights and whisper stories into your hair when you couldn't sleep. They would protect you from the storm and never let you go.

[muxshwriting]

the winner takes it all

Nico Rosberg x Hamilton!reader

summary: after 2016, nico cut you and your brother off. you reach out to him, wanting him to know you would always be his || warnings: slight angst, abandonment, threats || word count: 1328 || masterlist

It had been a hectic year, dating your brother's teammate who he was currently rivals with. The boys you'd grown up with had changed and evolved and grown ever more distant from each other. You'd spent most of the season juggling your emotions, trying not to celebrate too much when either of them one so the other didn't feel upset.

But as Nico crossed the line as World Champion, you couldn't hide your elation. The moment he was out of the car, he was jumping into the arms of his team. A part of your heart aches for Lewis, your brother, knowing how hard he had worked for this Championship, only to lose at the last second. But the pure joy that flowed through you dictated your actions as you threw yourself at Nico as he cheered. He pulled off his helmet, holding your head in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

"You won!" You're shouting over the crowd but Nico is nodding and grinning like a kid all over again.

"I won!"

Behind him, Lewis was watching his own sister congratulate the man who had just ruined his life instead of comforting her brother. How can Nico be so smug about taking everything Lewis had dreamed of? He was so nonchalant throughout interviews, as if he knew this was always meant to happen. But Lewis couldn't stop himself feeling bitter.

Nico could have the championship, Lewis could earn himself another. But Nico would not take everything from him, he would not take his sister. He watched his team celebrate from the sidelines, watched as his sister kissed and danced with the man she loved, the man he now hated. Tonight would be the last night he would come anywhere near his sister.

Whatever your brother did, you certainly noticed its affects even if you didn't know the reasoning behind them. Nico did not speak to again after the night he won the championship. Or any day after that.

In the beginning, you just assumed he was busy with interviews and stories, too busy to text you back or find the time to come and see you. But as time went on and he declined all your calls, it became obvious this wasn't a time issue. This was something else.

No matter where you went in Monaco, you could not find him. He didn't frequent the places you had shared, stayed away from your work and ignored anything you tried to reach out with.

"I don't understand Lew, he's not the kind of person that would do this, I don't know what happened." You're sitting in your brother's apartment, binging episodes of a random reality show and trying to figure it out.

"Maybe he thought he was too good now he's won the championship." Lewis felt bad for his sister, yes. But he was also glad Nico had realised what was good for him.

You wipe away tears. "We always talked about life after the championship was over, whether he won or you did. We were gonna move in together, take some time for ourselves, figure out if this was forever..."

"He mustn't think it was forever then."

"Then he should've told me that to my face, not completely blank me."

Two weeks later, by sheer coincidence you're sitting in the cafe you and Nico had often visited and he walked through the doors. He didn't notice you at first, ordering a takeaway and waiting by the counter. Quietly, you pack your bag and stand by the door, trying to catch him on his way out.

"Nico!"

He said nothing, his eyes widening as he recognised you. Nodding politely, he tried to push past you, not meeting your eyes.

"Nico?"

He finally met your gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's good to see you Y/N. I -"

"You’re gonna stay the fuck away from my sister, alright? I don’t want you to talk to her ever again."

"Lewis-"

"No! You won't talk to either of us again. You're nothing. You don't deserve her, and the sooner you realise that, the better off she is. She knows she's better off without you."

"Can we talk?" You ask.

Nico shakes his head. "There's nothing to talk about." He walks out the door but you follow.

"We need to talk about it Nico." You implore him. "Nico?"

"There's nothing to say."

"There's plenty to say Nico. Listen to me, please! I loved you, I still love you." You say. "Even after everything that happened, I never stopped. Why did you stop letting me see you?"

"Lewis told me to stay away. And you're better without me-"

"What?"

Nico turned to face you. "Lewis? He told me that you would be better without me, that you said that."

You're face is plastered with confusion. "Lewis told you not to talk to me? But- I never said that. Why does Lewis think he can control who I love?" As you were speaking, the anger grew. "Why did you listen to him?"

"Because he's right. You deserve more than me."

"Don't say that!" You quickly reply. "I don't care what my brother thinks, you are the world champion. You deserve everything, especially me! He can have any model he wants, all the races, all the wins, all the championships but I want you. I want to have you and I want to be happy with you."

Nico’s expression sours. “We’re not doing this here, not now.”

"I want you!" You yell after him, not caring who else heard. "Only you."

"Your brother-"

"Stop talking about my brother!" You beg him. "Please, I love you Nico."

He sighs, running a hand down his face. "Alright," he gestures you to follow him, "We need to talk somewhere more private."

Silently agreeing, you grabbed his hand and led him through the winding streets of Monaco until you reached his apartment building. He hadn't moved yet and as he unlocked the door, you let yourself admire the man you would always love. Nothing inside the apartment had changed except the pictures hanging on the wall.

Nico had a wall of pictures that you had helped him create. They were moments from his karting career, his life and his relationship with you. There was a new picture in pride of place at the very top of the wall, the place he put his favourite. It was a picture of the day he won his championship, a picture of you and him in a lovers embrace, confetti falling around you and sweat dripping from his hair. It was the perfect picture that captured everything you and him were.

"That's new." You point to the picture and look at Nico hopeful.

"Yeah." He smiles. "The team photographer sent me the original and I couldn't think of a better place to put it."

You took the chance and stepped closer to Nico, almost pressing your body against his. You felt the sharp intake of breath from him as he tucked a loose hair behind your ear.

"Are you sure?"

You're nodding before he's even finished. "We're gonna move in together, and take some time for us. And I know it's going to work because this is what I want in forever. I want you to my forever."

"Will you marry me?" He whispered the question like he didn't quite believe what he was saying.

"Yes." You immediately answer before Nico can backtrack. "Yes. Please."

Nico stepped back and shook his head slightly. "Wait- Y/N, just wait. I don't know why I said that."

"Are you trying to take it back?"

"No!" He hurriedly corrects. "I think we need to go slow. I haven't talked to you in three weeks."

"Three weeks don't matter, we know each other, we know that this works. Why do we have to wait?"

Nico couldn't hide his smile as he dipped his head to press his lips against yours.

"Why wait indeed..."

[muxshwriting]

the cold night arrives

King George iii x reader

summary: you wake to a cold bed and watch the sun rise as you search for your husband || warnings: mental illness, panic attacks || word count: 918 || masterlist

The bed is cold.

It's the first thing you notice; the bed is cold. You don't notice that the sun hasn't risen and that the world is not yet awake because the bed is cold and that means your world is awake.

There is a pounding in your chest that beats louder than your heartbeat as you throw the covers off yourself and ring for a maid. You're dressing yourself before they arrive, throwing a thicker gown over your nightdress as you venture into the hallway.

A maid, half asleep, comes rushing towards you. "Your Majesty-"

"Get me Brimsley and Reynolds, now." You didn't mean to sound so abrupt with her but the command slipped out so easily that you didn't give it much care. The maid scuttled off and you began your descent downstairs, your heart pounding in your chest, an ache you couldn't remedy.

Your breath grew unsteady as you paced the entrance hall, waiting for your right hand man. Perhaps George was simply in his conservatory, struck by some late night inspiration. He was fine, he didn't have to be- He wasn't-

An out of breath Brimsley emerged from a corridor, Reynold following close behind. You didn't give him a second before you were talking, "George has gone. He's not in his bed, I couldn't see a sign of him."

The two exchanged a glance that you couldn't decipher.

"I'll check the observatory." Reynolds said hurriedly. "And alert the groundmen."

Brimsley nodded to him, a soft look in his eyes as they exchanged something unspoken. He silently let you to a chair at the edge of the hall, watching how your leg bounced up and down in fear.

"Your Majesty-"

Your head snapped up, caught off guard by him speaking. !"What?"

"You need to breathe."

He was right. You hadn't noticed until that moment that you'd been holding your breath. The shakiness of your own breath surprised you as the insistent pounding in your head began to fade. Your lungs ached and your heart squeezed in your chest. You wanted to be held, held by George. But he wasn't here.

Where was he? Why wasn't he here? Where had he gone? Was he alright? What if something happened to him? What would you do? What would you do? What would-

"He's not in his observatory. " Reynolds had returned. "I've got men looking but there's no sign yet. "

The strength you had had in your body failed you. Your head fell forward into your hands, your fingers threading through your hair. Without effort, your breath picked up and your leg resumed it's bouncing.

"I want to be out there looking."

Brimsley blanched. "Your Majesty, I wouldn't recommend that. It's the middle of the night and you shouldn't be outside for too long."

"George is out there!" You cry. "My George is out there. And I will not rest until I find him."

You're on your feet in a second, marching towards the door with Brimsley and Reynolds following closely behind. The gravel crunches underfoot and the cold air bites into your skin, leaving your cheeks flushed.

A shout arises from a guard at the other side of the gardens and Reynolds wastes no time in running over. Brimsley remains by your side, one of the few moments he doesn’t remain five steps behind. It was like he could read your mind, knowing you needed that presence beside you so the world didn’t seem so alone, even for a moment.

The moment you set eyes on him, iIt was like all the fight in your body faded at once. He is safe, he’s alive, he’s alright. Albeit, he’s standing in his nightclothes with his feet in a fountain. But he’s alright.

He’s muttering under his breath, letting the water run over his feet and letting the nights sky fall over his head. But his eyes fall to meet yours and a smile creeps onto his face. His heaven is here and your world is here.

"My Y/N!" He cries out, wading through the water towards you.

"My George." Your heart is finally whole and beating at a reasonable pace. "Are you aware of the time of day?"

"Have you seen Venus?"

"I have my love, but it is rather a cold night."

"She is beautiful." He turns to you, reaching our for your hand. "You are beautiful."

He steps towards you and settles into your embrace. You let Reynolds wrap a jacket around George to warm him slightly. “It is night, George. I believe our nights are for our bedroom and your conservatory, not fountains and gardens, yes?”

George grins at the simple sound of your voice. “Of course.”

“Shall we return?”

He hums in response, spinning the pair of you slightly until you’re facing the ever changing sky. The colours are like a watercolour smeared across the horizon, lightening the air. “Look at it,” he whispers. “Nothing as beautiful as you but beautiful nonetheless.”

You can sense your George returning from his heavens and returning to the ground as he holds you closer.

“Perhaps we should head back to bed.” George pressed a kiss to your head. “This night has had much excitement.”

You smile softly at him, letting his hand fall into yours as he pulls you through the maze of gardens and back into the palace. The exhaustion is creeping into your bones with every step, as it is sinking through George. This was all you needed. It didn’t matter how many midnight searches you had to call for, this was worth all the panic and the worry. This peace was equal to nothing else.

[muxshwriting]

stained flagstones

Leto Atreides x reader

summary: an attempted invasion of House Atreides has leto running through the halls to find you || warnings: set before dune, Paul is your son, fighting, spying, murder, injuries, blood trails, over-protective leto, yelling || word count: 1259 || masterlist

The whole planet seems to be in pandemonium as spies infiltrated Caladan and set their sights on the Atreides palace. Guards raised the call close to midnight and the hallways seemed to be filled with people since.

"What's going on?" You call after Leto who's donning his armour.

"Spies."

It's only one word but the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. Without another word, you jump out of bed and begin hurriedly begin changing into clothes easier to fight in, tucking blades and daggers into the folds of your clothing.

Leto frowns at your actions. "You're staying here."

"If there's a fight, I'm fighting."

"I don't want it to come to that. You're staying here."

"No." There was no changing your mind as the argument bounced between you. "I'll stay away from the frontline of fighting but I won't stay put."

Leto sighed, reaching for your hand. "Okay. Go to Paul?"

"Of course."

A minimal portion of tension slips from Leto as you pull him forward into an embrace. It's the small things you value between the pair of you. There are some things that you never need to say to him and vice versa. Stay safe, come back to me alive.

"I love you." That was something that would always be said. It was known, but it could never be overstated.

The pair of you shared a kiss before parting your separate ways down the corridor, weaving between guards and Atreides fighters. As you parted, you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach that something was terribly wrong. In all your experience of conflicts and fights, this feeling had ever made itself known.

You're running before realisation sets in, drawing a blade to sit in your hand. There are four soldiers stationed outside Paul's room and they move aside as you approach. "Is all clear in this area?" You ask quietly to one.

"Yes Duchess. Your son has been confined to his chambers, all entrances are being watched."

"Thank you."

You slip through the doors, scanning the room for your son. "Paul?"

The reply comes instantaneously. "Ma?"

"I'm here."

"Where's Father?" Paul asks, glancing behind you to see if Leto followed you in. It was rare to see the two of you apart, even on the battlefield.

"He's gone to find the attackers."

Paul nods, turning away from you and moving to his window. The rain batters the glass, hiding outside from view. He looks stressed, like he's carrying a weight o his shoulders and bearing a secret.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" You press gently, knowing Paul would tell you when he was ready.

Paul shook his head then nodded. "It's my dreams. They've become more real than dream-like."

"The past or the future."

"Both."

You're about to answer, reassure him that all would resolve itself and the world would be righted once again but a crash outside the door stops you. It's followed by shouts and cries of soldiers being slain and your grip tightens on your blade.

"Ma?" There's a tremor in Paul's voice that breaks your heart.

Your voice is a murmur as you answer. "I want you to hide. Don't come out until you hear me or your father, understood?"

Paul swallows the lump in his throat, taking the dagger you offer him as he turns and runs to another part of his chambers.

You take a shaky inhale to steady your breath as you ready yourself for the fight that is to come. You have to protect Paul, that's the only objective in your mind. Find the attackers and lead them away from Paul. The crashes in the hallway grow closer as you slip out of the door and join your remaining soldiers. The stench of blood hits you immediately as you notice soldiers lying dead, scattered in front of you as an group of attacker approach.

"Lead them away from here." You sign your instructions to the guard beside you and he nods in understanding.

He calls out orders as you head the pack, facing your attackers head on. The group of your fighters lead the attackers down the maze of corridors until you're far away from Paul. You catch a glimpse of the attackers: Harkonnens. Of course it was, they had been fighting the Atreides for centuries.

You turn to face them with no option but to fight. One visibly pales, glancing to his companions to see if they should run themselves. You're like a raging bull as you stride towards them, anger dripping off your skin and exuding from your bones. These Harkonnens dare to come to your house, on your planet and they have the nerve to run from a fight they started?

Your knife slices through the air, cutting through supple flesh and knocking Harkonnens to the floor. But they keep coming, fighting harder and fighting faster with every second that passes. A sense of dread replaces the anger you held, sinking deeper and deeper.

The guards behind support you but the intruders manage several hits and slashes past your shields. There's blood dripping from your wounds, leaving a trail behind you on the stone floor. The sight of it drives your panic higher as the bleeding wouldn't stop, no matter how hard you tried. It's dripping down you fingers, leaving your grip slick as you reach for your knife once more.

There's blood dripping from your wounds, leaving a trail behind you on the stone floor. The sight of it drives your panic higher as the bleeding wouldn't stop, no matter how hard you tried. It's dripping down you fingers, leaving your grip slick as you reach for your knife once more.

You can't stop now, there might still be Harkonnens within your walls. There was no telling if Leto was safe, if Paul was safe. You couldn't stop now. You're aware you might be leading the spies towards you, leaving a path directly to you in your blood. But it's a risk you're willing to take, a fight you'd bet on winning despite your injuries.

Time passes strangely in your shadowed mind. It's all a haze as you creep through the hallways of your home, pausing to listen for unfamiliar steps. The chaos of the invasion turns into coordinated noise of marching and shouted orders.

But it's Leto's voice that cuts through the commotion, calling your name with increasing panic. He draws closer, and you let yourself breathe for the first time in hours. You turn, just as Leto rounds the corridor and sees you standing. Your side is soaked in blood, clothes ruined with a blade still in your hand. The blood had led him here, running through the hallways followed by his men in search of you.

"Paul?" Leto commended how your first concern was always your son, not yourself.

"He's alright. The Harkonnens never got near him."

As the adrenaline wore off, the pain and fatigue of your injuries began to hit you with full force. "Thank goodness."

"Are you alright my love?"

You're leaning on him, putting more and more weight on him as your strength finally fails you. "I don't think so. But I'll be okay. It's not as bad as it looks."

"Okay." His voice is quiet as he takes in your state. "Let's get you to a medic then we'll talk, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He pressed his forehead to yours and says with a whisper, "I love you." It would always be said. It was known, but it could never be overstated.