Hiya :) thank you for taking the time to read anything I write. If you like something (and are comfortable with sharing) let me know. It always makes my day! - ❤️ Lauren
ao3: Laureolive (if you see my writing anywhere else, please let me know)
Tag List or follow @seresinhangmanjake-library
Jake “Hangman” Seresin Masterlist
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Masterlist
Sinners Masterlist
Benny Cross Masterlist
Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist
Tyler Owens Masterlist
Thorn (Expendables 3) Masterlist
Additional Characters:
Hero - Johnny Storm x reader
OMG I loved all of the Feyd Rautha stories! The way you write him, is the perfect balance of his original character and a bit of (well needed) softness! Do you still plan to write for him? If so, could you please write reader saving his life? Like, something big happens like a raid or something in the middle of the night, and someone sneaks upon Feyd from behind, and she beats him to 💀 with a heavy object? Feyd would fall for her over and over again, especially if she's shaken from it but did it anyway. Like Jessica saved Paul in the desert :) Or Feyd teaching her his language? This is your fault, I'm so obsessed bc of your writings 😅🤣
Thank you! Its funny you ask, because I just got back into writing after 6 months of not writing and started with Feyd. I love your idea and im always here for inspiration from anyone ❤️ Im excited to start. I can't promise how fast I'll be, but I'll do my best :)
Note: Ty Authors for writing these amazing pieces!
Multi-Part
Oneshots
Manchild by @the-shedevil-writes: After too many heartbreaks and enough horrible dates, you’ve sworn off love completely. But it's hard to resist when every Friday, like clockwork, Jake Seresin shows up flirting like it's his full-time job. So when you say yes, you expect the worst, only to be surprised when he treats you better than any man has before.
Husband? Never Heard of Him by @tw1sters: When Jake stumbles into your office attempting to flirt with you, all you can do is humor the fact that your husband seems to have forgotten you.
Lunchbox Confidential by @all-my-love-for-harry: The Daggers suspects Jake has a girlfriend when he starts taking homemade food to base every day.
All Bets Are Off by @hangmanssunnies: When Jake "Hangman" Seresin starts coming onto you in a club, you are convinced it is too good to be true. Your past experiences have taught you that there is only one possible reason this man might be interested. The question exactly is just how much money does he have riding on this bet?
Jake Seresin x Plus Size Reader
Multi-Part
The Girl Behind The Bar by @somethinginthewayiam: You freshly moved to San Diego and were in desperate need for a job. That's how you wandered into the Hard Deck, following the "Help Wanted" sign in the window. Not only is it your first time working in a bar, the crowd it hosts is also very new to you and one navy pilot in particular managed to get under your skin quite quickly...
The One I Want by @seresinhangmanjake: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
Feyd POV
He can’t recall a time when nerves have taken over his body the way they do now. Normally, fighting, or the thought of fighting, or witnessing a fight pumps fire through his veins. The anticipation of bloodshed and screams of pain are like the crescendo of a good high, but today, he can’t grab hold of that euphoric feeling. It’s not there, there is nothing to grab hold of, because today, it’s you fighting.
Feyd sits beside his uncle in the stands as he watches you enter the arena, and immediately, he recognizes his first mistake. The hand not holding your blade is raised to shield your eyes from the brightness of the sun. He should have found a way to train you outside. He should have gotten you used to an environment that is much brighter than your home planet. Though he has no idea how he could have arranged that, if the blinding sunlight is the difference between your life and death, he sees no road to self-forgiveness.
“You think to take that one for a wife?” the Baron asks as your opponents join you in the arena. The six prisoners enter from three corners, honing in on their prey, but you’ve yet to step into your fighting stance. Your body anxiously twists in all directions to take in the men descending upon you and only you, your hand still acting as a vizor from the light. “She hardly seems capable. She’ll have a blade run through her before five minutes have passed and you will have gathered the masses to witness a bore of a show just like your useless brother.”
Feyd ignores his uncle, knowing the old man speaks only to agitate him. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you finally prepare yourself, spreading your legs, bending your knees, and dropping your hand so it may join its twin around the blade’s hilt.
One of the men is bolder than the others and he runs ahead. He takes the first swing at you, but you dodge him, ducking under his knife and throwing your arm out as you pass his legs. The sharp edge slices through the back of his thigh, and he instantly drops to his knees. You turn to face his back and thrust your blade downward into the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. When you yank steel from flesh, blood sprays, splattering your thin clothes, and drains down his bare chest. Feyd can see the body heave before it falls.
There’s the girl who killed my men, Feyd thinks as a rush of claps roars through the crowd at the first death. He knew you hadn’t shown him everything you’re capable of during training. Maybe you just needed the threat of imminent danger to display your full potential. If that’s the case, then fine. Feyd doesn’t need you to prove yourself to him, he needs you to show the people of Giedi Prime the woman they will soon be bowing to.
The next is the smallest of the six. Skinnier, shorter, but filled to the brim with fury. His anger is his mistake and it’s clear you know it. You don’t fortify yourself. Instead, you watch as he leaves behind the other fighters and charges with a scream that echoes through the arena. A side shift of your body and a quick swipe of your blade and he pauses, his arms go limp, and he stumbles past you. A wash of dark red flows from his neck.
You rid yourself of three more. Not without difficulty, but you manage. Their bodies are littered around you, the evidence of their demise soaking your form. Your shirt sticks to your figure from the amount of blood weighing down the fabric. Your arms are dyed scarlet from layer after layer of the red fluid. With each of your steps, scarlet prints are left behind. Exhaustion is evident, but you’re not done yet.
The final man is broader, thicker, taller than you and some of the now-dead prisoners combined. He could crush your windpipe with a squeeze from one meaty hand. He could break your bones with a sharp flick of his wrist. All you have to do is stay out of his way. You’re faster and your limbs are leaner; you should be able to outrun him, but you need to move, now, before he traps you against a wall.
You jump back from his swing, barely evading the sheer power and force that could have cut you right down the middle. Before you can recover from the attack, he leaps at you. You fall onto your back, blade skittering out of reach. Feyd swallows hard. He refuses to blink.
“Well, this doesn’t look good for your girl, does it?” the Baron says, sucking at his pipe.
Feyd wishes he could disagree, but you haven’t found your footing. You’re crawling backward, trying to gain some distance from the predatory stalk of a confident aggressor. A blade swipes toward your face. You turn your head, receiving a slash across the cheek, and from how quickly you bleed, it appears deep. At least your head is still attached to your shoulders.
You kick at his knee, knocking the joint out of place and momentarily rendering him unable to take another step. With the spare second, you scurry to your knife, getting your hand on it just as you’re yanked back by your ponytail. Feyd winces at your shriek, fingernails digging crescents into his palms, jaw aching from his clenching teeth.
Your head wacks against the ground and you’re eyes pinch shut. Potential concussion. You’re disoriented. You need to move. Move, Fremen Girl, Feyd internally snaps, but you’re not moving. The man towers above you, his feet on either side of your thighs. Feyd leans forward in his seat. Your eyelids slowly flutter.
“Move,” Feyd mutters.
The man’s whole body goes into the downward jab of his blade. He expects the pointed tip to land right between your eyes, but when you twist out of the way at the last second, it clashes with the ground. The over-expenditure of force knocks him off-balance and he falls on top of you, his chest slamming into yours, crushing you entirely.
Jumping to his feet, Feyd rushes to the edge of the balcony. The crowd is silent. He can’t breathe. Are you breathing? You better be fucking breathing, Fremen girl.
Suddenly, your knees bend and with the last of your strength, you roll the man onto his back, your thighs straddling his hips. His jaw is slack. His arms flop to his sides. Your knife is plunged into his chest. Then with both hands wrapped around the hilt, you pull out and stab into his heart once more, this time twisting the blade.
As the crowd erupts in cheers, Feyd finally exhales. His shoulders release their tension.
You stand on wobbly legs and wipe the back of your hand across your scarlet cheek. You’ll need stitches, but you’re alive. Feyd turns, heading for the stairs so he can meet you at your extraction from the arena.
“Not yet, nephew,” the Baron stops him.
Feyd glances over his shoulder to find his uncle’s gaze still fixed on where you stand. Feyd’s brow pinches and he eases back to the balcony railing as three more prisoners stumble into the arena. The crowd dies into silence. His head whips to his uncle.
“What is this!” he spits. “What did you do! She’s done!”
“She is done when I say she’s done,” the Baron says, sucking at his pipe once more. “Now sit down and watch the show, or should she live, I will give her to Rabban.”
“You will not!” Feyd shouts. “All of Giedi Prime knows the challenge you set and she met it! She is mine now and I say she's done! Bother Rabban if you want more entertainment!”
The Baron won’t argue further, not now. People were shocked enough that Feyd’s first potential bride would have to face six prisoners compared to the three for his brother’s brides. Whispers of gossip were uncontrollable and even managed to make their way through the halls, passing from servant to servant. They questioned the integrity of the Trial if centuries-old rules could be changed for one woman, and altering them again after you’ve won would be a great disappointment to all who witnessed. The Baron’s thirst for excitement has made him forget that, but Feyd is happy to remind him.
The crowd suddenly gasps and Feyd turns his head. You’re trying to step away from the prisoners, but those steps are wobbly. The knife has slipped from your grasp. Feyd rushes off to the entrance of the arena.
Hi, just wanted to say you're one of my favorite writers and one of the only people I follow because your Feyd fics are the best I've read and I feel the need to tell you that I appreciate you and I was so, so glad to see you back on my feed. Much love and all the kudos 🫶 💋
Thank you so much 🥹
Life has been such a mess lately, so this is really nice to read and so sweet of you ❤️
