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ahhh so good 😭😭😭 this has me shook ok?!?!
“Did you cum without me?” — feyd rautha x reader
Summary: Feyd Rautha, your husband, knows you very very well. He knows what your sex smells like, and he’s not pleased when he can sense it on you despite not having seen you at all that day. He reminds you that you aren’t to touch yourself, and that making you cum is his job
Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader
Word count: 1K
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mature language, unprotected sex, p in v, masturbation insinuated, squirting depicted, probably typos sorrryyyy
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Feyd stirred from slumber before you as always, a habitual gesture that allowed you the luxury of lingering in bed as long as you pleased. However, you didn’t see him at breakfast either, hinting at his preoccupation with Na-Baron duties.
All day you found yourself restless and bored, ennui gnawing at you, more than ever typical. You even spent almost two hours in the bath, just trying to make time pass. Spending hours and hours alone, your mind started to wander. Your hands followed suit. You found yourself lying in your’s and Feyd’s shared bed, writhing beneath your own touch. You laid on his side of the bed, his smell helping feed your fantasies as you succumbed to orgasm by your self indulgence. And, once not being enough, for a second time.
Only minutes later you peeled yourself up off the bed, washed your hands, and were once again making your way aimlessly through the Harkonnen residence. To your delight, you heard your husband’s voice resonating through a nearby hallway, and quickly made that your destination. He smiled as he saw you, reaching out for your hand briefly, to acknowledge that he hadn’t seen you all day. As you passed him, he turned his head, inhaling deeply. You continued walking, but he quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
He pulled you closer, his face just inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath against your skin as he sniffed your skin. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes narrowing.
“Did you cum without me?” he asked, his voice low and menacing.
“No,” you lied, trying to pull away from his grasp. But he was too strong. A growl rumbled from deep within him, a reaction to your lie. He could smell you. Harkonnen men were surprisingly gentlemanly and yet so, so primal in nature. The scent of your orgasm on your skin was certainly not one unfamiliar to him.
“Then you won't be too sensitive to cum right now,” he growled, his hand already making its way between your thighs. The men he was talking to quickly took their cue to leave, leaving you alone in the hallway.
You tried to protest, but it was too late. He had already pushed your skirt up and was fingering you roughly. You could feel your clit swelling and becoming sensitive, but he didn't seem to care.
“Push through it,” he commanded, his voice laced with possessiveness, his fingers moving faster and faster. You did as you were told, biting your lip to keep from crying out. But it hurt, and you couldn't help but squirm under his touch.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
With his right hand still playing with your pussy, he used his left to flick his belt undone. One handedly, he freed his already hard cock from his pants, lining himself up at your entrance.
His arms snaked around your waist, holding your body flush against his as he slowly pressed himself inside of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him finally filling you up, like that itch was finally being scratched. He gripped you by the jaw, pulling out of you softly before slamming back into you.
“I make you cum,” he growled, “Me. Not you.”
“Understand?” He barked, pounding another hard thrust into you.
“Y-yes.” You stuttered, watching as he clenched his jaw in pleasure.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
“Yes, Feyd. You make me cum. Only you.”
“Good, darling, good,” he purred, lightly circling your clit with his thumb as he continued to fuck you, there, standing in the corridor.
His grip on your jaw eased, you took the opportunity to press your lips to his, in a burning kiss. You descended into a mess of moans and whimpers as he softly pressed his tongue into your mouth. His hips started to lose rhythm, your noises helping draw him closer to orgasm. He focused his attention on his thumb, rubbing your clit with the perfect pressure and pattern he'd come to learn so well for you.
“That's it,” he whispered to you. “Come for me.” And you did. With a scream he loved so very much, a gush of liquid spilled out of you. Marvelling at the sight in front of him, he continued to work your clit, watching as your squirt continued to stream from between your legs, his pants and boots sprayed with it, a puddle around both of your feet. Never having felt an orgasm so strong, your body threatened to give out as you shook and moaned, letting the last lingering bits of your orgasm out.
His strong arms held you up, as he continued thrusting. You felt his cock twitching inside of you, and with a low, strung out grunt, he spilled his black seed into you, fucking it as far into your pussy as he could. You clenched your walls around him the way he liked, milking him for all he was worth.
He pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath. “Mine, darling,” he mumbled, slowly pulling himself out of you.
“Yours, Feyd.” You whispered, also still panting. Feyd looked at you, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction, an expression he had reserved for you alone.
“It is my job to make you cum. You do not take that away from me, do you understand?” He reminded you.
“Yes.” You nodded as he cupped your face in his hands.
“Good,” he kissed your cheek, “look at the mess you've made.” Your eyes fell to the floor, you blushed as you noticed the puddle you stood in.
“Go, get dressed for supper.” Even when he spoke softly there was still that harsh rumble in his voice. You obliged, heading back to your chambers.
At the dinner table, you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I love you,” you whispered in his ear, feeling his muscles flex in reaction to your voice.
He turned to face you, his eyes dark with desire. “I love you too,” he said, before standing up to pull your chair out for you to sit beside him.
A/N it’s currently 1am I got home from seeing dune part 2 about an hour ago but I absolutely couldn’t go to sleep without giving y’all something ;))
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damnnnnnittt noooooooo don’t leave me hanging I need MORE! Ugh I am so fucking invested. It’s soooo good! Please add me to tag list? Pleaseeeee
ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.
word count: 4.5k
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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.
The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .
There’s you.
And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.
This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.
If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.
The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?
Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.
The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.
The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.
They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.
No one could save you.
“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.
How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.
“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.
Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.
“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”
You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.
The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.
“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.
He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.
“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.
You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.
“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.
“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.
A pause.
“Please.” And then he went back to eating.
So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.
“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.
Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.
“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”
Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.
“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.
For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.
“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.
He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.
“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”
He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.
“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.
Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.
“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.
“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”
That awful, ugly, no good-
“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.
You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.
‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’
You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.
You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered.
“Do all women take this long to get ready?”
You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.
He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.
He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous.
“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.
You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited.
You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have.
“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.
Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.
The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.
You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.
You waited. And waited. And waited.
“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.
There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?
“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far.
You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.
You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.
“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.
“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.
“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement.
“No.”
“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.”
Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.
“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.”
You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.
“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him.
‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.
“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred.
“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.
You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.
“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .
Aimed at his throat.
He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.
And then he leaned in closer. And closer.
“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.
You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.
“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.
He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it.
“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.
Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.
“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.
He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.
They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.
When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.
But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.
‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’
His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.
“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.
Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.
And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.
“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now.
“I wanted to.” You conceded.
“Then you should have tried harder.”
Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.
There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.
And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.
There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.
He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.
Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.
Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.
You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.
Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.
Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.
“Atreides.”
The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized.
No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .
Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.
‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier.
He had been trying to warn you.
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the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!
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Happy April 25th Everyone. Remember your light jacket.
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i fucking LOVE reblogs. reblog if you love reblogging shit
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I NEED women to get comfortable telling folks “You’re not doing enough for me” and “I need more than what you’re capable or willing to provide.” I need my ladies to say it, mean it, and STAND on it, because that’s where your best life and best LOVE resides. It’s not selfish, it’s self preservation. Too many times, people come into our lives, leave with more than what they had, when they came, and we are left depleted and broken when they’re gone.
Dead it. ♥️
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they got me so fucked up I love them 😫😫😫
With Your Touch, Part 3
Summary: you had rules.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings: explicit language, teasing, The Verb, grinding, spanking, tension, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.2K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Lloyd didn’t lie. Being an early riser, you thought you would see him, but alas he had already left. You walk into Lyla’s bedroom, and see her still sleeping soundly. Her little lips pucker out looking all comfortable and cozy. Her fingers twitching makes you watch her a bit longer. Seeing her already relaxed in this very new environment. Unaware of whatever her mother did to get her here. It’s refreshing to think that she won’t ever remember the life before now.
How could a mother do that to her child? Well, a baby. And Lyla is the sweetest little thing. You had heard her cry a few times in the middle of the night. Even woke up. Listening as Lloyd walked to her room and soothed his daughter. The part that got you was after her cries had stopped he lingered in there a bit longer than you thought necessary. Thinking that maybe he had just been watching her.
It is foreign and yet still one of the sweetest things. You had heard about daddy’s girls, and father’s that adored their daughters. But in this world, you’ve never seen it. Why was he so different? And why did his behavior intrigue you so much? And the dumbass brought up your daddy issues. You did not have daddy issues. Your mother did a great job. And you had a stepfather. He wasn’t terrible. But he did treat you differently than your brother.
You didn’t have daddy issues. That much you know is true. You just had a soft spot for…something. You aren’t even sure what you’re feeling. What you’ve been feeling since being in his apartment, but you are going to blame it on Lloyd. It truly was him. What the fuck even was that last night?
Softly closing her door you venture into the kitchen for some coffee. You need it this morning. What even was that? Why did you — feel? That was the weirdest experience. Something that should have made you uncomfortable, or at the least pissed you off, but it did not. In fact you went to bed confused, and uncomfortably turned on. That shouldn’t have happened, and it did. And you’re left with lingering questions that you have no brain capacity to answer currently.
You couldn’t believe that you allowed this man to command you. Not just you physically but also mentally. Because yes, you had stayed up way too late running the events through your head. He made you ramen noodles. You had pasta with him twice. In one day. And now you’re being such a girl and overthinking everything.
But how could you not? He called out your lack of panties. Was he offering sex when he said if you wanted more than a dildo? That is what it seemed. Thoughts run rampant in your mind as you take a sip of the bitter brew. Moaning at how just the smell alone was waking you up. Sleep evaded you because of these fucking thoughts. And he had to know what he was doing. He mentioned spanking you!
Was he on a power trip? Or maybe it was more than that. And you sound crazy again. You were here to do a job, and that’s what you need to do. Hearing Lyla squeak out some cries, you pour the rest of your coffee down the drain, and walk towards her room. Giving her a big smile when you walk in, and she answers by pouting that lip out and whimpering.
“Oh my goodness. Did Miss Lyla Bee not sleep well, princess? Come here,” leaning over the crib, you pick her up. Holding her close to your chest, you bounce the baby around until her little cries stop. “Are you ready to get you changed and ready for the day? We have such a big day, you and me. We’re going to have some belly time, and we’ll go on a long walk in the park. And you’re probably going to sleep and drink your milk all day.”
She gurgles up at you, and even though she can’t talk, you just know you’re going to enjoy being here with her. There is a thing or two you could learn about yourself by keeping Lyla.
“Peekaboo!” Leaning over Lyla, you pull your hands away from your face waiting for her squealing laugh as the cutest toothless grin smiles up at you. Using your hands to tickle her sides before you hide your face again.
”Peekaboo!” She giggles so loud, kicking her feet around. Eyes shining up at you. She is adorable. All dressed up in her luxurious baby outfit that is full of pink. She may look sweet and adorable, but this is already her second outfit for the day, and she couldn’t even crawl. “You are a messy little thing, you know that?”
She laughs again. Clenching her fists together. “But you are cute!” More laughter rings out from this tiny little thing on the floor. Using her body to roll over onto her belly, and she lifts up her head to look at you, “I am new to this, and I don’t know if this is normal, but I want to celebrate you rolling over! Oh my gosh, that is so cute. Do it again,” you flip her body over, and she quickly rolls back onto her belly.
Lifting up to look at you with a gummy smile. “Why are you so cute?” You squeal, laying on your belly to look at her. “I think you are the most adorable and smart baby in the world, did you know that?” Her mouth opens and closes a bit. Giving you a look of pure adoration, and you soak it all up.
“You don’t do much, but what you do do is incredible. And,” you give her a quick boop to her nose, and she lets out what you could only assume is a giggle, “Yes, you are so cute, and you have your daddy wrapped around your little finger. Yes you do. Do you know if your daddy is dating anyone? He’s a bit…he’s different, ya know?”
“Lloyd!” Ari shouts behind his colleague, and the man turns to glare at him. “What are you doing looking at your phone?” The wider man grabs the device out of his hand, and starts laughing as he looks at Lloyd, “Oh, I see.”
“You see my daughter. Now give me the fucking phone back.”
“No, I see creepy Lloyd watching his daughter’s au pair. Laying on the floor with her ass perfectly placed. Imagine she was naked looking back at you with those innocent eyes. Lifting up that perfect ass for you to rail into her,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. Locking his phone as he settles down in the chair in front of Ari, glaring at him.
“You haven’t thought about fucking that?”
“‘That’ like she’s a possession.”
“Oh, come now, has Lloyd Hansen grown a conscience? You’ve got to be kidding me. You got you a baby girl, and now you want to value women? She’s living in your fucking apartment, and you haven’t even tried?” Ari didn’t need to know exactly what happened. He’d never hear the end of it.
“Didn’t say that,” Lloyd begins, but shakes his head no. “It’s fucking complicated, you know? She’s Roman’s spawn. And she has a job to do, and none of that requires bobbing her mouth on my cock. She is there to watch Lyla Beatrice when I can’t,” Ari smirks, nodding his head, and not believing anything that Lloyd says.
“She’s not a whore wanting to be used.”
“How do you know that?” Lloyd didn’t know that. In fact what he did know was you were obedient, and reacted to him. He could feel the heat wafting off you. Could smell your scent change when he set you on fire. The Verb could not possibly give you all that you deserved in any way shape or form. There is no way that he could treat you like both the princess and slut that you craved.
“She’s got a,” Lloyd wants to retch for even saying the words in the same sentence. “A boyfriend,” Ari lets out a long chuckle, framing his beard with his fingers as he watches the usually in control Lloyd. “And he’s a damn problem.”
“Why is that, sunshine?”
“Because he wants to assert dominance over me. In my fucking house! They’re mine.”
“Who is yours Lloyd?” Ari’s mouth turns up into a devilish smile, and Lloyd pounds his fist on the desk. Ari truly didn’t understand the predicament Lloyd had placed himself in, “Easy there. You wouldn’t want to show your dominance by your temper tantrums.”
“Lyla and her au pair are mine,” he speaks through his teeth. Contemplating on the ways he could get rid of The Verb. It wouldn’t be long. He couldn’t handle staying away from you. He couldn’t possibly know what it takes to be a man that has to be away. He’s young and needy. Stupid and impulsive. It was a matter of time before he messed up.
“So you just want to own her?”
“I pay for her,” Ari purses his lips as he squints at Lloyd, “And I sound like an ass. No, I don’t want to own her.”
“You want to devour her.”
“Shut up,” Lloyd is never the one to concede an argument, so Ari lets it go. Realizing there is much more to whatever is bothering Lloyd, and his lingering obsession with watching you.
Just as he starts to speak up, he gets an alert on his phone, and he grabs it up immediately. Having nothing to do with his job, but there he is. The Verb. The ingrown hair on his perfectly round ass. Standing at the door of his apartment while you hold a slowly drifting asleep Lyla. You stare up at him with a bit of fear in your eyes.
“I will enjoy slowly murdering that boy.”
“You could just show him who is boss,” Lloyd places a finger over his mouth as he turns up the volume. He needs to see your reaction to The Verb being there.
You gulp as you stare at Chase. Giving Lyla a quick glance as you rub a finger over her soft cheek. You need to remember you have a child in your hands, and unfortunately she is about to be used as a barrier.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you don’t even fully open the door. Lloyd was very clear on his rules, no Chase in his home. “I’m working,” you add in, looking back down at Lyla who had fully drifted to sleep. What could you do to wake her up? Keep her interfering in this conversation that wasn’t going to end well for someone.
“Is the weirdo here?”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Fine, is the neurotic nut job that was staring at you like a personalized sex doll here?” Chase had no idea what had transpired between you and Lloyd last night, but you couldn’t forget, and feel a bit annoyed that Chase would use such words against your employee.
“Well, no, he’s not, but,” Chase pushes past you into the front door, and you check the baby to make sure she is still sleeping. “Chase, you can’t be here. There are rules, and…”
“You always follow the rules precisely as they're given,” he falls back onto the lush couch, pulling up the remote. He even turns on the TV. This isn’t going to be good. You just knew Lloyd had cameras all throughout Lyla’s room, probably everywhere you would be with her. Most definitely had a camera on the front door.
“You are always the type to shut up and listen when it comes to a man in authority. Do you know why?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me,” Chase always fancied himself the smartest person in the room. He graduated a few years ahead of you as a psychiatrist. He always assumed that you wanted him to diagnose you. You didn’t. You wanted to have fun, and let off some steam. You didn’t care about his psychoanalysis bullshit. You were doing just fine.
“Because your father left you. Your mother never took up for you concerning your step father, and now you want to be perfect. Hoping that one of the three will not only notice, but will praise you for your good work. It’s why you took this job. You’re in no way equipped to raise a child, but daddy asked you to. So you obliged, and here you are. Of course he stuck you with some weirdo that was looking you up and down, and all I see is my girlfriend being in a place where she is going to let a man she doesn’t know dictate what she needs to do because he’s become your replacement for your father who never loved you apart from being an accessory. And a step father who loved his son, and tolerated you, and a mother who looked at you like a burden because she couldn’t have her perfect life with her new husband.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? All of that was not necessary. I didn’t even ask for it. You just opened your arrogant mouth and told me, and it's not true,” he throws both arms over the couch, giving you a cocky little grin and it infuriates you. “It’s not. And I told you months ago I didn’t want to be analyzed.”
“Because you know I’m right. Poor little rich girl. You’re no different than the rest of us. Our parents fucked us up in the head, and now we’re doing what we must to survive. Except you have become a glorified babysitter, and if that jerk has it his way, a blow up doll for his enjoyment,” how could he even say something like that? Like you didn’t even have agency on what you wanted.
“The man pays well, but you’re still under the thumb of a man in power.”
“Is this what this is? You don’t get to power me, so you’re trying to wear me down in hopes that you can?”
His bright blue eyes stare too long at you, while you look at Lyla. Despite the conversation at hand, she remained sleeping peacefully. “Put the baby up, and quit using her as a shield. You know that I’m right, and you’re now refusing to make out with your boyfriend because of the man in charge told you I shouldn’t be here, huh? It’s not your rules, but his. And you’re going to make sure you follow every single one of them. Now, put the baby in her room, and talk to me like an adult. Or are you too scared?”
“She wasn’t held enough when she was with her mom, and she sleeps better when she’s being held.”
“Excuses. Excuses, Dolly,” he almost sneers at you when you pop your sight in his direction. “Go on, go put the baby up. I love when we get into our little debates, and I don’t want to wake the sleeping cherub. Go on,” you didn’t want to have the conversation, or wake her up. And with the way Chase is right now, you’re going to have to do one of them.
You spin on your heels, and walk towards her bedroom. Giving her forehead a kiss before walking back into the living room, and Chase rubs his thighs. Rebelling just enough you sit on the couch beside him, but pull the remote out of his hand, turning off the television. “I told you that you shouldn’t be here.”
“We’re debating.”
“No, you are. And Lloyd doesn’t want strange men in his house. And…”
”I’m your boyfriend. I think it’ll be okay. It’s not like I’m some stranger. We’ve had fun this past year. And,” he pulls your legs over on top of his, running a smooth hand up your thigh before he lifts himself up. Pushing you to lay flat on your back while he hovers over you. “What are you scared about?”
“Losing a job.”
He presses his mouth against your neck as you start to melt a bit. Feeling the heat from his body, coupled with the intense tension you still felt from last night you weaken, “Daddy dearest won’t let that happen,” he whispers against your neck, and you throw all caution into the wind. Lloyd is at work. You aren’t doing anything in front of his daughter. He couldn’t keep you from Chase.
Chase’s thigh goes between your own, and he chuckles when you start to grind on him, “You’re always so needy, sweetheart,” you want to cuss him, and tell him to just get a quickie in. Anytime he talks the paranoia slightly kicks back in. Paranoia, frustration, and being horny isn’t the best combination.
“Shh,” you moan, pulling his mouth towards yours while your fingers fiddle around with his stupid pants. Who needs pants anyways? Stopping a bit to rub over his growing bulge while you mewl his name. “Chase, I…”
He has your panties and leggings halfway pulled down your legs. His hand running through your slick when the front door to the apartment slings open, “I thought I gave you very explicit instructions. The Verb goes immediately!”
“Lloyd,” pushing Chase off your body, you sit up, and stare down at your bare legs. Biting at your lip, and looking between the men. “He was — he was just visiting, and…”
“I said no!” He leans towards Chase getting his face inches away from your boyfriend’s, and his whispered threat is more menacing than any of his yelling, “I said go immediately,” Chase looks at you, saying your name, but you shake your head, “Now!”
He screams so loud you can hear Lyla’s pitiful whimpers from her room. It takes Chase a beat too long to stand up. He buttons up his pants, and gives you a regretful look, but you stare down at your legs like a scolded child. Still afraid to move even though you're exposed when Chase walks out the door, leaving you alone with your neurotic boss.
“I thought I told you…”
“I’m sorry,” your voice is meek and hardly audible, and your eyes never meet his. “He barged in on me. I didn’t ask him to, and he was insistent, and — Lloyd, I’m sorry,” he takes a step back from you. Glancing down at your pants, and barely there underwear before he looks back into your eyes. “I didn’t…”
“I can make sure he never bothers you again.”
“I don’t want you to kill him!”
“And I thought I told you not to be out of your room with no panties on,” your body straightens up, and you glare up at him. Daring to make due on the promise he made you last night. “Stand up,” you shake your head no, and before you can count to three Lloyd is sitting on the couch, and pulling your body over his lap.
Your hands cover your backside, in hopes of not being so exposed, but he swats them away. Gritting through his teeth before he holds both your hands behind your back, and your ass as naked as the day you were born right there for him. “Please, Lloyd, don’t.”
“You knew the rules,” his voice growls as he slaps your left cheek hard. “Count,” you stay silent, and he smacks the other cheek, “I said count, goddammit.”
“Two!” You cry out only to hear him laugh. “Two!”
“You missed the first time, so we’re starting all over again. Let’s make this quick, Dolly, my daughter needs you,” smack! You blubber out one, and his hand smooths over the sphere of your ass with a smile, “Good girl. Now let’s get to five, and I’ll let you get Lyla Bee, so we can have a little talk. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whine, and he spanks you again, “Two.”
Slap. “Three,” this is humiliating, and the worst part is you didn’t hate it. He is giving you more attention than your father or stepfather ever did. Smack. “Four,” it stings, and burns, but when you look back at him, he has a proud smile on his face, and you arch your back to push your ass more into his view.
Spreading your legs a bit so he can also see between your thighs, and you get the hardest slap yet. His hand lingers on your ass, and those large fingers stroke the tender skin softly, “Five,” you weakly say, and he pulls you into a standing position right in front of him.
His face completely facing your exposed core, and he pulls up your panties first. Grinning up at you before the black leggings are pulled up your body, and he taps your hips a few times, “There, there, you did such a good job,” he isn’t even flinching, or looking up at you. He continues to stare at your covered pussy, taking slower, deeper breaths as he inhales your aroma.
“I believe Lyla is still crying. Why don’t you go fetch her,” his voice is so even and deep, showing no emotions as to what just transpired. How is he so calm? “Dolly, you have a job to do,” those eyes look up at you, and his pupils are so wide, very little of the blue is peeking through. Just deep pools of black. Giving him the appearance of being high from spanking you, “Dolly, I need you to get my daughter.”
Giving him a nod, you walk into Lyla’s room, and her sweet face is turned up, and she swishes around trying to find someone that is normally there to comfort her. Been with Lloyd for such a short time, and is already spoiled on touch, “Hey, miss Lyla Bee,” her lips tremble as she looks up at you, trying to calm herself.
It isn’t until you pick her up, and hold her close to your chest that she starts snuggling into you. Calming down even more, “Oh, honey, I’ve got you. I’m right here,” Lloyd listens to your sweet words to Lyla as he cracks his neck. You were going to be the death of him. Twice he took things too far.
But he did warn you what would happen if you didn’t have panties on. And dammit you were right there looking so pretty and…he shouldn't have looked, but he did. Delectable is the perfect word to describe that moment. And you weren’t all innocent in it. You enjoyed it. He could tell from the heat pulsating off your core, and the wet spot that lingers on his leg. You wanted him to see your cunt, so he did look. Trouble. You were the devil for him.
“There’s your daddy,” you coo, bringing Lyla into the living room with you, and she gives Lloyd a sweet smile. “Tell him that you were asleep the whole time.”
“Dolly, do you know why I don’t want that boy here?”
“Because your jealous? Oh — um,” you press your hand over your mouth, wondering if putting your foot in your mouth was an option. “I mean…what I meant to say is…”
“I don’t get jealous. I can have whatever the fuck I want. And what I want is for my daughter to be safe. You may not know it because I’m keeping you and her away from my business, but I am a feared and known man. I have many enemies, and people willing to pay millions of dollars to see me crumble. They want my weaknesses. They want to see me tortured slowly. And do you know what my weakness is?” You shake your head no as you look at the coffee table. Unable to stare at him, and you’re not even sure why.
It is hard to even look at the sweet girl’s face that you’re holding. You feel ashamed. You did have the one rule, and Chase was seeing to it that it was the one that was broken. “My weakness is that tiny little girl in your arms. And you by extension. I have to trust you.”
“I get that, I really do, but —“
“There’s no buts here. There are real people who will not hesitate to kill you or Lyla. Do you understand that?”
“I do. But Chase isn’t one of them, and you want me to break up with him, and —“
He is always interrupting you. He never lets you finish a thought before he tells you what is going to happen. “Keep the fucking asshole. I just don’t want him in my damn house. And just for the record,” Lloyd reaches over towards you to get the baby. Moving his gaze to her instead of you. Almost like it pained him to see you. “You deserve more than that boy can give you. He’s an asshole.”
“You don’t know him,” you only feel like defending him because hearing someone call Chase an asshole reflected on your choice for keeping him. It is silly, but it’s the truth. Chase had his flaws, but he wasn’t all bad.
“I heard what he said to you,” you look up at him, figuring he had cameras in the main rooms, and Lyla’s room. It shouldn’t surprise you, but realizing Lloyd heard Chase’s psychoanalysis was heard by Lloyd is infuriating. “Even if it's true, he shouldn’t have said that to you. You’re not his patient, so don’t let him treat you like one,” he slowly stands up. Leaning over to hand Lyla back to you. “I’m going back to work. Don’t make me regret not spanking you five more times. I mean what I say. Panties off in the bedroom. Panties on out here.”
Lloyd stomps back towards the door. Never giving you and Lyla another glance as he hurries out of the apartment. Sighing as he adjusts his jeans. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had dwelling between his legs. He wouldn’t allow that moment to be a weakness. You had no effect on him. None.
Lloyd’s dark gaze finds you as you walk out of your bedroom. Wincing on your way into the living room, but you walk past him and into the kitchen. You didn’t know what to say to Lloyd. You had betrayed his trust. He saw you a bit more intimately than he needed to. There’s a lingering embarrassment in the pit of your stomach, and your damn ass hurts.
Grabbing out the things to make a quick snack, you turn around, and there he is. Still glowering at you. His brow is still low on his forehead as he watches you get out different noodles than the first night. Clearly, you and Lloyd had a noodle thing. “Would you like some butter noodles, too?”
“If you’re offering,” he responds solemnly, and you answer with a curt nod. He won’t apologize to you, of that you’re sure of. You just would have to put your foot down a bit more concerning Chase.
“Where do you all have cameras?”
“Anywhere that Lyla will be,” there’s no emotion in his voice, it's just the factual evidence. You aren’t sure where to take the conversation from there. Standing in silence is crippling. It’s like the air in the kitchen is so thick you can’t even breathe. “How is your, um, your ass?”
You snort as you glance back at him. He isn’t as quick with averting his gaze from the subject at hand. “It’s sore,” well, what else are you supposed to say? It feels amazing, thank you for showing me who is boss. I promise to never disobey you ever again.
“Do you understand why I did it?”
The spoon falls onto the counter loudly and you saunter over to the kitchen island where he resides, and lean over it, demanding he looks at you. He does, but his chin is still jutted up. He’s still in control, “Please, don’t try to parent me. I’m a grown woman.”
“People who say that are often trying to convince themselves of that. I’m not parenting though. I have my rules, and I expect you to follow them. That’s strike one. The only reason you’re still even here is because of Roman,” you begin to speak, but he smirks, shaking his head, and you immediately stop talking.
“You do know how to listen, even if it’s not words, I’m impressed. You are Roman’s daughter, and he has been loyal to me. I really don’t give a fuck about him not being present in your life,” his mouth twitches, and you slowly retreat from him. He stops you by wrapping a hand behind your neck, holding you in place. “He knows who I am, and trusted me with his precious daughter.”
“He was just a sperm donor.”
“And for some unknown reason, I like you,” your eyes brighten, and a slight smile pulls up your mouth, “Don’t get to excited, Dolly,” he slides over a tube of cream, and you glance down at it confused, “It’ll help your ass,” is he giving you some form of relief? He sees you uncomfortable and is offering aftercare. Not at all what you had assumed of Lloyd Hansen.
“I should finish the noodles,” you finally pull away from him leaving the cream untouched on the island as you separate the noodles into the bowl. You slide over his bowl, but remain standing as you take a bite.
“Are you struggling to sit down?”
“I think that’s quite obvious, Lloyd.”
“The cream would help.”
“Then why don’t you put it on me since it was you that caused it?”
Lloyd takes a slow bite of his buttery noodles, and then another. Keeping those cool blue eyes on you the entire time he finishes his bowl before letting his fork drop into the bowl with a clink. He stands up, walking around you as he cleans up the mess you made before his body towers behind you.
Leaning his head around you until his mouth is right at the shell of your ear, “Put it on yourself,” he starts to walk back to his bedroom before stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, “Make sure you clean up your mess,” even though you can’t see his face, he smiles. He still had control. And if you want him to put anything on you, you need to learn how to ask with manners. He wouldn’t be commanded. He was the one in control. Despite the strain in his pants. Fucking nymph.
You exhale, not even realizing you had been holding your breath. Sweat beads around your hairline, and you struggle to control your breathing. What is he doing to you to make you feel so…weak? Did you actually want him to see your ass again?
“Ugh,” you groan as you put away your dishes, and grab up the cream. Stopping outside of Lloyd’s bedroom when you hear the shower on, and an angry groan. Moan? You aren’t sure. He sounds like he’s not happy with his shower.
If he wanted to ice you out while also exposing you, you could do the same. You let a phone call from Chase go to voicemail. You weren’t in the mood for his games, or even whatever brand of medicine he had to offer. You are sore, and still left —
Wanting.
Needing.
Fuck Lloyd Hansen.
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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Promising myself to become the woman of my dreams.
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