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#congratulations you get the very first one of me answering
ggidolsmuts · 3 days
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Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena
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"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"
"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.
"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"
"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 
Yena's a good girl.
At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.
True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.
"What? I haven't!"
"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.
"How would you know?" you fire back.
"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"
"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."
"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."
"Yes."
"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.
"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."
"That's all it took? My son is good!"
"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.
Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.
"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.
"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"
"That's great, you eat so well!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.
"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.
"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.
"Thanks, I gotta go now."
"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.
"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"
"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"
"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"
"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"
"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"
"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"
"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.
"Fine."
"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Please sir."
"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.
"Spank me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.
"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.
"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.
"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.
"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"
"Oppa?"
"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.
"Manners Yena."
"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.
"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.
"Are you forgetting something?"
"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"
"Say it like you mean it."
"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.
"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.
You slam her down on you.
"Oh fuck!"
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"
"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."
"Okay I'll go get the beer."
"No dear, get the ginseng wine."
"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.
"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.
"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."
"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"
"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"
"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"
Yena's a good girl.
The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.
In bed.
In the heat of the moment.
While you're deep in Yena.
~~
"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.
"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.
"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.
"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.
"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.
"That many?"
"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.
"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.
"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."
"Of course, your parents are so nice!"
"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."
"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"
"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.
"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"
"Yena..." you start.
"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"
"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.
"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.
"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."
"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.
Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.
A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!
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deathfavor · 9 months
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@ashrifts said: "3, 2, 1..." for serpent <3
Send "3,2,1..." for a new years kiss from my muse
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One year dies and another is born, and such an event calls for only the most exuberant celebrations as if to appease the new year. The club is full of dazzling lights, glittering chandeliers and the finest of decorations served alongside phenomenal food that is more art than food. ( Some people seem reluctant to destroy such beauty but ultimately cave for the exquisite flavors that burst upon their tongues. ) It is to be expected, when the underworlds greatest and society's elite are the guests of the exclusive club. More often than not, they are one and the same.
It was no surprise to Serpent that her presence was requested. Something dangerous and beautiful always gets hearts racing, and the rich are gluttonous for such catered shows. ( But they are happy, Serpent can taste the happiness in the air. ) So she appears with her venomous snakes, with her magic that no one seems able to comprehend ( how do airy bubbles turn into vibrant blue butterflies? how do flames become snow sprinkling from the ceiling ? Secrets she shall not divulge. ) They laugh and clap and look as enraptured in her shows when she's on the stage.
It is different the moment she steps off. People like dangerous things then they're protected by glass cages or seated in the audience, not when it can walk among them. Serpent is used to it, the mix of fear and awe. But no one dares approach. Certainly not as midnight draws near and traditions come to mind.
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Then, Serpent sees Ran, and her pleasant enough smile becomes little more genuine. She hadn't known he would be here. Serpent makes her way easily through the crowd to him, a bright smile on her lips. " I didn't know you'd be here! Aw, if I'd known, I could have gotten you something extra. " Maybe another time. " Are you having a good time? Did you like the show? " She asks, while Vesper lifts her head from where she's been laying draped against Serpent's throat to flick a tongue in greeting towards Ran.
A cheer from the crowd draws her attention away briefly from the man. Displays flick on to show a timer, and the energy in the building becomes a buzz in the clamor to get celebratory drinks or conveniently find someone to happen to stand by. Serpent observes - she's always been alone at this time, a monster among humans. But Ran doesn't cower away from her or Vesper seems unfazed by her own serpentine visage. It'd be fun to try this tradition, at least once. Maybe she'd finally taste the happiness she brings others.
Serpent turns her hand and two cards appear in her hand, and she offers a playful wink towards Ran when they seem to dissolve into flower petals, just for her to suddenly be holding two glasses filled with blue. One she keeps for herself, but the other she offers to him with a smile. " On the house, of course. " It's sweet on her tongue when she takes a sip, no surprise to herself.
The buzzing grows louder as the countdown gets louder.
10...9...8...
Serpent blinks and then turns to Ran, till purple eyes and serpentine eyes meet.
7...6...5...
He doesn't seem opposed, so Serpent stands up on her tippy toes, cool fingertips resting gently against his cheek.
4...3...2...
Thankfully, he bends down so the strain is not so great.
1 !
Serpent leans forward and presses her lips against Ran's while cheers erupt in the room by those not participating in the tradition. It's silly, but it's all in good fun. Serpent's kiss is gentle, sweet like caramel rather than bitter like a snake's venom. Her kiss is soft and demands nothing, and she pulls back after a moment, leaving the sweetness to linger upon his lips even in her absence. She offers a cheerful giggle, sinking back into the flat of her feet again.
" Happy new years! " She offers him, turning her head a fraction to take a sip of her drink.
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no-144444 · 28 days
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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)
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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)
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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa  (F2 -> F1)
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Clip 1: Prema video 
Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March. 
“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane. 
“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”
“The plane is landing, idiot!”
“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”
Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior. 
As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her. 
“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!” 
Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.” 
Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”
“No way I have any chance with her, I-”
“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself. 
He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed. 
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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel
Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March 
“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line. 
“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar. 
“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”
“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”
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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said. 
Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”
“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”
Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”
“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled. 
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Clip 3: Prema video
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.
“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”
Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching. 
“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”
“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”
Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.
“What?” Oscar laughed.
“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked. 
Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”
“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)
“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed. 
“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned. 
“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you. 
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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video. 
Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England. 
“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”
“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead. 
Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."
Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”
Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you. 
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”
Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”
He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him. 
“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”
Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them. 
“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin. 
“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.
“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.
“Yes!” they all answered. 
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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go. 
“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film. 
“I can help,” Oscar whispered. 
You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled. 
“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?
“Fine,” you smiled. 
You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave. 
“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.
“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss. 
He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”
You chuckled. “Yes.”
Oscar was elated. 
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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage
Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd. 
You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest. 
You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled. 
“Feels good, huh?” you smirked. 
“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.
“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.
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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage
 Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race. 
“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!” 
Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall. 
“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said. 
“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace. 
“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”
“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly. 
“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car. 
As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news. 
“What happened?” he asked. 
“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”
“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”
Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified. 
“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright. 
“Is there any news yet?”
“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen. 
“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked. 
“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved. 
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Clip 6: Prema video
ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.
You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back. 
“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”
You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”
Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh. 
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Clip 7: Prema footage
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December
“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!” 
You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it. 
The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person. 
Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on. 
“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.  
You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet. 
“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.
“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”
And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on. 
He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”
You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss. 
---------------------
Clip 8: Prema footage
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December 
He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible. 
You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won. 
“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away. 
“Thanks baby,” he smiled. 
---------------------
Post-race interview
“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked. 
“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.
---------------------
Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel 
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1. 
“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”
You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.
“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.
“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”
“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you. 
“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries. 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”
“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go. 
---------------------
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy. 
“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”
“Great driver,” he added. 
You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.
“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”
You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled. 
You laughed. “It suits you.”
He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back. 
---------------------
Clip 10: Prema video 
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy. 
You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably. 
You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off. 
“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles. 
“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”
The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!” 
“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled. 
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”
“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again. 
---------------------
Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November 
“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n  Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”
You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it. 
You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard. 
“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours. 
You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Osc.”
---------------------
Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023. 
“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!” 
 Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so. 
He was in awe of you. 
He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him. 
“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.
“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled. 
“You were amazing out there,” he smiled. 
---------------------
Clip 13: McLaren video 
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 
“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”
Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”
“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”
“But it’s the truth!”
“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?” 
“Max Fewtrell?” 
Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”
Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”
Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him. 
“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 
“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself. 
“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him. 
“Bad flight?”
“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you. 
“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?” 
You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself. 
“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview. 
“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked. 
He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
---------------------
Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog
Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023 
“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling. 
---------------------
Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram
Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”
As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him. 
“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled. 
“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!” 
“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”
“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”
---------------------
You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them. 
---------------------
Nicole Piatri’s instagram live 
“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up. 
“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed. 
Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile. 
He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-" 
You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”
“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled. 
“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal. 
“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed. 
“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”
“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”
“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.
You both turned to Nicole with confused faces. 
“You’re still filming mum?!” 
This live has now been ended by the host. 
---------------------
Clip 16: Sky sports channel
​​Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar 
“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!” 
“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!” 
“I said P2 for you,” he reminded. 
“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together. 
“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid. 
“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard. 
“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed. 
---------------------
Post-sprint conference 
“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”
You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”
The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. 
“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh. 
“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face. 
“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 
He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”
The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face. 
---------------------
Clip 17: Drive to Survive 
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2. 
You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh. 
You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”
“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”
You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”
“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”
“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh. 
---------------------
Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!” 
You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”
“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”
“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed. 
---------------------
“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced. 
“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?” 
“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled. 
“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it. 
He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him. 
“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”
“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. 
His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”
Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care. 
You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.
---------------------
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌
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Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.
I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst
Word Count: 2.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.
He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.
Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.
It’s bloody fucking brilliant.
Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.
With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.
He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.
They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.
You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.
You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.
Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.
He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.
But he does. Because why not?
Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.
You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.
Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.
Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.
Your…son.
Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.
He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.
“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?
The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.
“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.
He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.
It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.
“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.
Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”
John Price
John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.
He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.
Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.
Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.
John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.
He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.
Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.
John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.
If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.
He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,
“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.
Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.
John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.
“You have the wrong number, bud.”
The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”
“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”
John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.
“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.
This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.
And each month is fucking agony.
When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.
But fuck it. He’s here.
Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.
John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.
The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.
“John,” you breathe.
He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.
“Is that—”
“Yours?”
Fuck.
John glances up into your eyes and swallows.
You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.
“It is,” you confirm.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.
But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.
He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.
Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.
But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.
Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.
In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.
It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.
You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.
You are fucking pregnant. With his child.
It’s growing in your belly.
Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.
It’s fucking painful watching you like this.
He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.
But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.
Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.
Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.
He has to play this right.
He has to.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”
Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.
The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.
Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.
He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.
That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.
Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.
But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.
Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.
He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.
It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.
Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.
Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.
“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”
Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.
Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”
Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”
The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.
Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.
Is that?
No. Can’t be.
His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.
There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.
But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.
You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.
“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.
“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.
You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.
“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.
“Is that?”
“It fucking is.”
“She’s fucking pregnant.”
Johnny swallows. “Aye.”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.
But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.
You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.
You’re staring right at Johnny.
And he’s staring back.
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Text
chemical override (3)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
Both having busy schedules and working in different cities, the reader and Ewan make an effort to keep contact with each other. Will Ewan ever make his feelings known? Will a possible scandal derail their budding romance?
A beautiful floral arrangement awaits you as you return to your hotel suite in LA.
Luxury red roses preserved in an elegant black velvet box, accompanied by a printed note on the side.
Congratulations on your new project, darling.
All my love, Ewan.
Your assistant had alluded to a special package having arrived just before you came in, and you're met with this.
It's the loveliest of gestures and you instantly wish to call Ewan to express your thanks. However the hour is late, the digital clock face reading 10 pm. You'd had a long day at work, having gone through the entirety of rehearsals once more. Filming will officially begin in September, and your focus is much needed as you step into a new role.
Noting the time difference - it would only be around 6 am in the UK - you decide to put off calling him for tomorrow.
It's only been a week since he first confessed that he misses you, and since then, he's had no trouble saying it each time you speak, almost as if the floodgates are opened and he's more confident in expressing himself with you.
I told you, Phia had simply said when you shared this with her.
The strong possibility of Ewan harbouring feelings for you has caused you to become distracted the past few days. If he does, why hasn't he asked you out yet? Granted, you'll be working long-distance for a while, but still.
You quickly wind down from a long day and soon find yourself comfortably huddled in blankets with your laptop propped open in front of you. Winding down, of course, includes some time scrolling on your phone or watching things without a care.
A new video catches your attention on Youtube's home page. One of the segments from Ewan's Vanity Fair feature.
Ewan Mitchell on his firsts and currents
You smile to yourself before you even realise it.
The video starts with Ewan introducing himself - "Hi, Vanity Fair. I'm Ewan Mitchell and I'm here to talk about my different firsts and currents." - He smirks at the camera. You smirk right back as if he can see you.
"So first ever role?" he says, directed by prompts behind the camera. "Technically, my first ever role was for a very small, short film called Stereotype ..." He laughs, remembering how young and inexperienced he was. "... and my current role - none other than the One-Eyed Prince. So far, my favourite as well I have to say."
He continues with his first and current favourite film, pets, song or type of music to get into character... and so on...
Then he gets asked about - his first ever and his current celebrity crush - "Uhhhmm," he looks to the side bashfully, clicking his tongue as he thinks of the simplest answer, "I don't think I had celebrity crushes growing up. It could have been some of the actors I admired, that inspired me... "
Such a classic Ewan answer, that one. You wonder how he would also dodge the question of his current celebrity crush.
"As for my current crush... well... it might be someone from the cast of House of the Dragon, actually." He smiles knowingly, as if he's aware that your stomach is in knots as you watch. Who will he say? Phia? Olivia?
"I really admire ... " He says your name, and your eyes widen like saucers. "She's an amazing actress - I think we can all agree - and a very dear person to me... "
Ewan, you sneaky charming bastard.
" ... so yeah," he shrugs, nonchalantly, but he surely knows he just sent you - and the entire fandom - into a tailspin. "I guess you could say she's my current celebrity crush."
Curious, you pick up your phone and get to scrolling. You've turned all your notifications off, not wanting to become occupied because of them during work.
Sure enough, it's an endless flurry of likes, comments, and messages.
In your most recent post, tons of people comment about Ewan's interview, trying to bring it to your attention.
hotdpolska29: girl, go watch Ewan's Vanity Fair video RIGHT. NOW.
melodygellerr: be honest, is this photo for Ewan???
peraltajake99: now she has to say that Ewan's her celebrity crush too !!!
cassiethemendler: forget Ewan... guys she's acc with jacob frickin elordi. Did yall not see the pictures
There's simply too many comments to go through. One statement and already everyone has formed their own opinion, their own conclusion about how things are in your personal life. It's one of the drawbacks of being in the public eye, and you still don't fully know how to handle it.
As part of PR for your new film, you and Jacob had been tapped to make appearances in public together, photographers hired to make it seem like the two of you are on a date.
The whole thing confused you. You're friends with Jacob, and naturally you hang out with him anyway. All this celebrity subterfuge seems unnecessary. But he was kind enough to guide you through it. "It's just part of the job," Jacob assured. "This whole Hollywood thing is silly, isn't it?"
Since you're both single actors, it wouldn't hurt for people to believe you might be dating. It attracts attention and any publicity is good as they say.
As long as you know what's true, then the public can believe whatever they want.
You end up liking and responding to some comments, and ignoring most of the other ones that pry too much into your private life. Never mind the haters, who also give their own two cents about your alleged involvements with Ewan or Jacob.
Suddenly, the screen is brightened from an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye . You are still pleased with yourself about the name. Your excitement is spiked as you press answer. Having a crush never gets old.
"Mornin', you," you greet him. 11 pm for you in LA, 7 am for him in England.
"Evening, darling," he says with a smile. He's still in bed, with one hand behind his head while the other has his phone pressed to his ear. First thing in the morning, and he feels compelled to call you. If that's any indication, the boy doesn't lie when he says he misses you every day. "You about to go to bed?" he queries.
"Mhmm," you hum, lying down and mirroring his position. "By the way, I think I've got a secret admirer or something."
"What? Who?"
Struggling to hold back a laugh, you continue, "I think you're missing the point of a secret admirer."
"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Anyway, what's going on? Are they bothering you?" He sounds worried already, but a bit more should be fun.
"No, but I found a box from them in my room."
"Did they break in?" He sits half-upright, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you breathe out a tired laugh. "Ewan, I'm - " ... kidding, you want to confess, but he rambles on.
"If you need me, I can take the next flight out."
"Ewan - honey - I am messing with you. I do appreciate the floral arrangment box, by the way, thank you."
A beat of silence. He slumps back down on his pillows. A smile creeps up unrestrained on his lips. He fondly thinks that his girl almost gave him a heart attack at 7 am.
And he loves it.
"You're welcome," he replies. "And if I wasn't fully awake before, then I am now. Good work, darling."
You're pleased - he didn't deny the admirer bit of it all.
"Seriously now, thank you. They're the best surprise after a long work day."
"I'm glad you like them," he says sincerely. "Rehearsals still going on?"
"Yup, two more weeks of this, then a month-long break, and finally filming in Atlanta."
"Hmm," he says, then pauses, framing his next question as best he can. "Are you... do they... that PR relationship business, is that - "
You help him to it. "Well, technically, yeah," you respond. "But they're not laying it on thick with Jacob and I. Everything is alleged by the media and no one will make any sure statements."
When you shared the truth of the pap walk, he had a bunch of questions about it. He had sounded detached and cold at the beginning of that call. Then you complained about relationships for publicity, and he quickly got the gist. You'd think his mood took a complete 360 then.
From sounding completely disinterested with Jacob, Ewan then took to reassuring you that he's a good guy who would respect your boundaries. He's still not a fan of the whole thing, but it's your job.
And... well... it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. What claim could he have over you?
"And something you said has the public divided," you add.
"What did I say?" he smirks, playing it coy.
"Ewan."
"You're going to have to elaborate, darling."
An idea pops up in your mind. Two can play at this game, Mitchell. "Listen, I'm flattered that I'm apparently your celebrity crush, but you can't say shit like that! I don't think my boyfriend Jacob would appreciate it. He's very protective, you know."
A full minute passes, you hear his heavy breathing on the other line. He wants to curse out at the picture you presented but holds back for you.
Then, "You're so funny, darling."
You laugh genuinely, and all his worries dissipate. "I know."
"A downright comedian."
"Thank you."
"I can't believe you're my celebrity crush," he sighs dramatically.
"You put that on to yourself, mate."
"Hmm." He sure did. He wasn't lying in that interview - you are his celebrity crush, but that seems reductive. He likes you, he misses you, he loves being around you. "The only right answer would have been you. You're the one I think about all the time."
He says things like this, so sweetly, and it's everything. It drives you off kilter that you get tongue-tied at work when you think about it.
But he hasn't said or done anything more. The flowers were a nice touch, sure. Maybe he's gearing up to it? Does he have something up his sleeve?
In the moment, it appears not. He's flirty, as he always is, but you've had a damn long day and the butterflies in your stomach are exhausted too.
"Ewan, I'm gonna go to bed."
"Oh. Right."
"Long day tomorrow. You know how it is."
"Of course. I... I miss you, darling. Sleep well."
"Mhmm," you find yourself responding, not mirroring his statement. "Bye, have a good day."
You end the call, wondering if he caught on at the end. Perhaps you sounded a bit too dismissive, but a voice in your head says, hey - if he wants you, he gonna have to show you. It'll take a lot more than flattery and banter to win your heart completely.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
That night in London, Ewan sits in a corner booth of a pub with Tom, Luke and Elliott and it's relatively causal, with the boys just catching up over a few pints.
Until Luke mentions you and Jacob, questioning whether that whole story was real or not.
"Absolutely not," Ewan says immediately, shifting in his Adidas tracksuit as if to take up more space so the boys will pay attention. "I talked to her about it and it's all just PR nonsense, trust me."
"Look at this one gettin' all defensive." Tom claps Ewan on the back in jest.
"Well it's true," Ewan just shrugs. "They're not together."
Elliott jumps in, eager to rile Ewan up even more. "For now at least. I've heard that these PR couple things eventually get a little too real, if you know what I mean. The lines tend to get blurred."
Ewan slings his pint back, before engaging. "What do you mean?"
"Well, look at it this way," Elliott explains. "She hangs out with the guy a lot. They laugh, dine and work together. Maybe they even have to make out several times for the film. It's easy for feelings to spring up from all that business."
"Life imitates art, innit?" Luke offers.
"Yeah, maybe soon it won't just be PR. I've heard of some celebrity couples who did that," Elliott says.
Luke adds, "Wasn't there that one PR couple that got married and all? Who was it - I can't remember now - "
Tom intervenes, wary of the way with which Ewan grips his pint glass. "That's all nonsense, come on. Surely that's not a common occurence. I worked with all you guys, and I can't stand any of ya. If anything, she'll be so sick of Jacob after they work together." That earns him a laugh from the twins, who then assign him to get the next round as payment for that jibe.
Ewan stays silent, his mind whirring. Usually, the boys wouldn't mind. They know it's just his way, being a focused and observant lad on and off set. But they sense something else underneath.
The twins share a look, a bit guilty due to Ewan's expression.
Ewan looks up and reassures the table, "Hey, it's alright. Whatever she chooses to do, I get it."
"But come on, mate," Tom says. "Everyone knows you like her. Literally everyone. Even she knows it, I bet. Why don't you just make the bloody move already?"
"I dunno," Ewan starts, not sure of the answer himself, "it just didn't seem like the right time, with her being off across the pond for the rest of the year."
"So what, you're just going to let it slide? Do you want her or not?"
"Mmm, I do." Ewan keeps to himself most of the time. But Tom's got a way to loosen his taut edges.
"Well, as promised, I'm gonna get us all another round," Tom declares, earning cheers from the twins.
Two pints turned into three, then six, seven and so on. Pretty soon, the lads get properly and well smashed. Ewan's never been the biggest drinker, but when the social situation calls for it, he can put them back just as well as the next guy from the Midlands.
"So come clean, mate," Tom drawls, his arm slung around Ewan's shoulders. "Are you in love with her already or what?"
Ewan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face to wake up a little. It doesn't work - the glare of the warm overhead lights is strong and make him feel woozy.
"Could be," he says. "But that's none of your business." Smirking, he points at Luke, "Or yours," then at Elliott, "or yours."
"Hey! C'mon," Tom protests, feigning hurt. "Am I not going to be the best man at the wedding?"
"No way, Aegon the Magnanimous," Ewan shakes his head. "My brother'll be the best man."
"So there will be a wedding," Luke says. "Does the bride know about it?"
"He hasn't even asked her out yet," Elliott teases. "I triple dare you to ask her out right now. Right fuckin' now, Ewan."
"No," Ewan says, but in his sloshed out state, he secretly considers just doing it. "I gotta go for a smoke, lads. Tom was right, I can't stand you anymore."
"Oh, boo!" Tom shoves him out of the booth. "Hurry back, lover boy."
Ewan makes his way to the alley behind the pub. He's thankful that a pub at midnight offers the perfect setting to disappear into anonymity. Everyone's just as drunk or they simply don't care about celebrity culture.
He takes a few puffs of his cigarette, the nicotine quickly reawakening his nerves. Thinking back to the twin's suggestion, he thinks, why the hell not? Why shouldn't he ask you out already? Who cares about the PR shite? If word gets around that you're his, the facade about you and Jacob will get shelved.
With his cig lodged between his teeth, he has to take extra care to call you, the glare of the screen not doing wonders for his inebriation.
The lines beeps, and he's met with your voicemail. You must still be at work or just getting off it.
Still with Jacob. Something in him stirs, and it's not just the bloody alcohol.
He clears his throat, prompted by the notification to leave a message - "Hey, darling. Hey... beautiful... I guess I'm missing you and I... I miss you, isn't that funny?" he starts, proud of himself for making the joke. "I'm out with the lads right now... had a couple of pints. Maybe one too many? I don't know. And... uhhh - "
He stomps his smoke under his shoe, nervous ticks getting the best of him. Here he goes, make it or break it. "I was thinking about you. As I always do. Because I've never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. And I'm sorry it took me this long to ask, but I want to be with you. No - that's not right, it's too quick... I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but I gotta do this right. I want to take you out, properly, on a date. Will you... will you please? I've got some business stateside and I could have that scheduled sooner, and I could come see you. And we could... I just want to see you. So fucking badly, baby. I - I - okay then, I suppose that's all. Good... good morning? No - evening. You're beautiful and I just..." he sighs deeply, because words will never do you justice. "... goodbye."
The line cuts off and he tucks his phone away. Smiling to himself, he feels euphoric from getting that off his chest. The message was coherent enough, he thinks proudly, and it couldn't have sounded better all things considering.
If he could pat himself on the back, he most definitely would. He can already see it, the perfect first date with you.
The lads are going to go nuts over this, he knows for certain. He makes his way back inside the pub, a boy renewed.
A lover boy, as Tom and Phia call him.
No truer words have been spoken.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
It's 10 pm yet again when you make it back to your suite. Having notifications on your phone turned off while you're at work, you're met with a barage of messages and the usual social media frenzy.
But only one thing stands out - a voice message from Ewan One-Eye, sent just around 4 hours ago.
You settle in for the night, making sure you're all prepped to go to bed before playing it, thinking you can maybe call him afterward.
You hear the beep, and the message starts - "Hey, darling... uhhhh so hey, I - uh fuck I'm missing you right now, must be at work eh? And I miss you - " You note how he sounds drowsy but his words are punctuated. Like he's making an actual effort to simply speak. You realise he must be drunk. What's a drunk Ewan doing calling you? " - that's so funny, innit? Which suits cause I'm just a bloody joke cause I took too long... to tell you... that I... I think about you all the time, I'mcrazyboutyou y'know... I wanna be with you... withyou - " He's drunk, you keep reminding yourself that he's drunk. But the effect of his words aren't diminished. He's got you hooked. " - I got work out there too... so I'll - uhhh - see you then and... take you out then and - fuck - kiss ya... I want to kiss you so fucking badly, baby. You're perfect for me, and so beautiful, and I wish Aemond would wed your character cause - as th'twins said - life imitates art!" He snickers at his own remark, and it's the most endearing thing ever. "So... yeah, good, darling. Goodb - " and the line cuts off.
"What the fuck," is all you can speak out into the quiet room. Lying back on your pillows, you actually laugh out loud and kick your feet like a puppy-love drunk highschooler.
The sun is rising across the pond and Ewan has probably just made it back home, immediately collapsing in his bed all wasted.
But he's getting a call tomorrow - and you pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that his intentions are clear, drunk or otherwise.
Kismet is a funny thing. Once a fan of the show, you're now an actress on it, about to date the Aemond Targaryen.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Ewan's eyes flutter open. The sunlight is weakly coming in from the window shutters in his room. Confused, he glances at the digital clock face and it reads 6:18 PM.
So he slept through the whole day. Brilliant.
It's unlike him to mind his phone first thing after waking up, so he trudges to his bathroom to douse his face with cold water and brush his teeth for a good long while, trying to recall the events of the previous night.
It had the usual workings of a proper pub night with his lads, and he barely remembers the last night he got that sloshed. But anyway, all in good fun, and he genuinely enjoys their company so it must be worth the pounding headache he feels right now.
The lads... an unknown and possibly excessive number of pints... Oasis playing on the speakers... Tom generously buying a round of drinks for everyone in the pub... and of course, you.
The memory has his attention, and he thumbs through his phone as he makes his way to his kitchen to prep his staple black coffee with seven sugars.
He remembers it - kind of - leaving a voicemail, and he's pleased that he finally, finally asked you out. Never mind that it took him getting drunk off his noggin to do it.
But there's nothing from you. Not a message, nor a missed call, nor a voice note.
He tries not to let it worry him right away, but it does. Maybe you didn't hear it yet. Maybe you were too tired from work and weren't checking your voicemails.
Maybe... maybe...
His phone suddenly buzzes in his palm and he mumbles, fuck's sake, out of surprise. But it's not you calling. It's his publicist.
"Hello, good evening. How are you doing?" he greets cordially.
"Ewan!" she exclaims. "Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day."
"Oh, right," he says guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I just had a long night and - "
"I know, Ewan, I know. The whole country - no - the whole world knows by now. Bloody hell, it's always The Sun, isn't it? Those idiots, I swear."
He straightens at that. If a tabloid is involved, it can't be good news. "What's happened?"
His publicist sighs, ready to relay the news, "The Sun did a story on you and the other cast members. About having a wild night out in the pub. It's useless fodder, really, nothing wrong with having a night out."
"Right, right... but - " Ewan says, sensing there's something more. Something worse.
"There's a picture of you with a girl - "
"What?"
"I think I've seen her before. She must be a cousin of the Tittensors? You know her, of course."
"I... I don't - "
"Anyway, according to the paper, you and her were flirting it up a storm at the pub. She had her arm around you and everything. Do you want to look it up now? I can give you a moment. I'll stay on the line."
"Fuck," Ewan mutters to himself as he does a quick search of his name. The headlines make him wish he never did so.
House of the Dragon Stars On A Wild Night Out: INSIDE SCOOP!
EWAN MITCHELL SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY LADY
Aemond Targaryen IN LOVE? See PICTURES Inside!
"I don't think I remember her," he swears to his publicist, "I was just drinking with the lads and there might have been others that joined us but I - what the fuck - I don't - "
"It's okay, Ewan," she reassures him. "We can deal with this. This bullshit just comes with the job, as you should know. It'll be fine."
No, it's not fine.
Because it dawns on him why he hasn't heard back from you.
"Fuck."
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Not drunk Ewan thinking his voice message sounded a lot better than it did! 😂
The story will extend further than 3 parts, as it turns out! In the next one, the reader and Ewan will be reunited - any guesses on what will happen?
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Text
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: your BeReal for the day is, perhaps, a little too real
contents/warnings: smut (18+, minors dni)
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There's no mistaking the notification that chimes on your nightstand. It's BeReal, the unique sound lets you know, and you're not in the best position right now to answer it.
You're in the best position, period. You're sprawled out against Aaron's silky bedsheets, the fabric soothing and cool against your flushed skin. You're sweaty, hot, and bothered, your cunt begging for more as Aaron drives his cock repeatedly through your sopping folds.
"Fuck," You hiss, partially at the feeling of Aaron's teeth scraping at your collarbone, and partially because you panic at the sound, "Aaron, my- gimme my phone."
"Don't you think this is a little more important?" He grunts, nearly knocking his skull into your jaw as he lunges for a kiss. He takes you by surprise, and you're nearly pulled away from your urgency to post when his tongue practically slips down your throat.
You nearly gag on it, and your nails take a break from scratching up his back to weave through the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. It's not long enough to tug, but he huffs at the feeling of your nails scraping across his scalp, and rocks his hips into yours slightly faster.
"Oh, fuck, Aaron," You pant when he finally lets you breathe, burying his head in your shoulder to bite at the skin there instead, "Aaron this is so hot, I wanna- please, I wanna post it."
"No face," He instructs, and you're more than happy to choose a different area of his body to focus on, "Don't need Garcia figuring us out."
The moans that escape your mouth, albeit muffled by Aaron's own, are so pornographic that you're paranoid they'll somehow be captured in the photo you snap. When you finally get your hands on your phone you aim it at Aaron's back, as well as the red stripes left by your newly manicured nails, and snap a photo. Then, with the front camera, your jaw that's been sucked sore by Aaron, and in the corner of the shot, his short black hair and strong jawline nestled against your skin. You keep it just as he's instructed, vague enough of a profile so that your coworkers shouldn't be able to figure out that it's him, and his post without a second thought. You feel the buzzings of replies soon after, but you're no longer capable of caring about them while they vibrate against your nightstand, much happier to focus on Aaron's relentless jackhammering into your pulsating cunt.
--
Gathering in the conference room the next day means that you get a lot of shit-eating grins. You'd expected it, what with the soft porn you'd posted, and you're surprised when even Rossi offers you his congratulations.
"Nice going, kiddo," He knocks elbows with you, and you laugh sheepishly.
"You saw?"
"Morgan filled me in," He nods, "Garcia was the first one to know, of course, but it spread very quickly."
You don't have it in you to be embarrassed in front of your team too badly. You're all adults, and they're more proud of you than anything, even if Reid's smile is extra awkward today.
"Just be glad Hotch doesn't have the app," Emily laughs, and for a moment you forget that they don't know you're together. But you play it off with a wry smile towards her as your Unit Chief walks through the door, and you're happy to let your attention drift to him as he speaks.
His tone is authoritative, like always, and you fight to stop something from stirring between your legs. You tune into what he's saying instead, something about a double homicide in Kansas, and that helps dissuade any distracting thoughts you might have had.
"-and those pictures are... not on the monitor." Aaron narrows his eyes at the black screen, and Garcia nearly breaks the remote trying to get it to respond.
"Sir, I'm trying! I'm sorry," She frets, mashing all of the buttons at once in her panic, "It's not working, I- I think the batteries might be dead?"
"I changed them two weeks ago," Hotch shakes his head while taking the remote from her, stepping up towards the monitor to fiddle with the buttons beneath it, "It's alright, Garcia, it's not your fault."
He cranes his head down to peer at remote in his hand, intent on making sure no acid has leaked from the batteries, but when he does so, the back of his neck is no longer covered by his shirt collar, and it's bright red.
There's clear marks from your nails, red streaks that haven't faded in the mere hours they've been left alone and probably won't for another day. It barely takes any time for a room of profilers to connect two and two, and Penelope's position as technical analyst doesn't hinder her realization.
Your hand shoots over your mouth as the rest of your team exchanges incredulous gasps and jeers, all looking rapidly between you and Hotch. He turns to raise an eyebrow at them all and his eyes land on your bashful grin.
"Remind me to rub some aloe on the back of your neck when we get home," You mumble sheepishly, and there's only more scandalized comments made about how you two go home together.
Aaron's jaw clenches and he sighs defeatedly at the realization that you've both been caught, a hand flying up to cup the back of his neck.
Everyone waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say for himself but he can't manage to muster up anything to save the awkward situation.
"We'll look at the details on the jet," He grumbles, setting the faulty remote on the counter and snatching his bag off of the ground beside his chair, "Wheels up in thirty, and we never speak of this again."
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luveline · 3 months
Note
i know you said hotch and reader baby requests… but what about hotch’s daughter that he met as an adult meeting Jack for the first time? two babies in one! love you 💕
—You meet your little brother, with your dad’s support. fem, 1.6k
To grow up wondering if your father might love you is odd. You spend years wondering if you’d ever know him. Would he be proud of you? Would he like you? If you could find him, would he want you to? 
And then you do find him, and you’re floored by how desperately he wants to take care of you. 
Honey, his message starts, sent at 5AM that morning. Just to remind you, dinner is at 5PM, but you don’t have to worry about being late. You can come whatever time you like, please let me know beforehand. Jack was so excited last night he couldn’t sleep.
Another sent at 5:16AM. I can’t wait for you to meet him. How are you feeling about it? If this is too much, you don’t have to. 
At 5:25AM. Please call me to talk when you’re awake, if you can. 
You think perhaps your father might be as nervous as you are to introduce you to his family. Because Aaron, your dad, has a wife and child. Haley, his high school sweetheart (though there had been that brief separation in college that allowed your existence), and Jack, his four year old son. 
This might be hard for everyone, but at least you aren’t destroying a family by existing. Aaron didn’t do anything wrong in getting your mother pregnant. He had no idea about it until you showed up at his office. 
You rub your tired eyes and decide against calling him right away. You have work soon, and he’s probably at his own place of work already. Instead, you make yourself a cup of tea and breakfast you can’t eat. Turns out you’re more nervous than you thought. 
You call him on your lunch break. 
He said you can call him whenever you want, just he’s busy, and can’t always answer. He also said you can call him whatever you want. It had been a strangely touching moment at one of your ‘catching up on a whole life’ dinners. Mr. Hotchner was extremely formal, and made him laugh every time you said it. Aaron was better, but you could call him dad, if you liked. The paternity test agreed. 
“Will that be weird for you?” you’d asked. 
“Honey, I’ve had someone calling me dad for the last four years. You can call me what you want.” 
Some part of you wished he insisted, but maybe it’s best the choice be down to you. 
“Hello?” he asks as he picks up. “Y/N?” 
The will to call him dad dies. It’s too awkward, what if he hates it? “Hello,” you say instead, stammering trying to sound natural. 
“Hi, honey. Are you still coming to dinner tonight?” 
“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.” 
After an investigation and a mother’s confession, you found Aaron Hotchner online. Watched him behind podiums and sat at conference tables, even found his guest lecture at your university. It was a few years before you’d attended, but you can’t help thinking: what if you’d watched him talk? Would you have known he was your father? Of course, you couldn’t know. But maybe he would have. 
Aaron took one good look at you in his office and believed you. Well, you had a photo of him and your mom, and you offered to take a paternity test then and there, but he told you he knew pretty quickly.
“You okay?” 
“Just terrified,” you say. 
“Haley… Haley isn’t mad at anyone. She has,” —he clears his throat— “a very tight picture of her life in her head, and her husband having a child without her wasn’t in that picture, but she also has a really big heart. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” 
“It’s not Haley I’m scared of.” 
“Honey, Jack can’t stop telling people he has a new sister. People keep giving Haley congratulations.” 
You rub your eyes. You’ll be surprised if your makeup survives the day. “Are you sure you even want me to come?” 
“I want you more than anything.” 
Which doesn’t answer the question you’d voiced, but reassures the one you’d been thinking. “I just wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to. I can’t imagine how terrible this has been for you. I’ve disrupted your whole life.” 
“Is that what you think?” he asks gently. 
You can imagine him sitting at his desk. His office was roomy, with heavy furniture, big windows, and a gaggle of photo frames on the desk. He is intimidating, but he doesn’t talk to you with any meanness, or sternness. He’s been careful with you this whole time, so no, you’ve no reason to think he doesn’t want you around, but maybe he’s too good a man to admit it. 
“If it’s too much for now, we can wait,” he says. “We have all the time in the world. But I promise it won’t be what you’re thinking. You certainly aren’t disrupting my life.” 
You decide to be brave about it and go to dinner. Only when you’re standing on the Hotchner porch do you remember he’d wanted to talk to you about something. He opens the door quietly, ushering you in with a smile, and before you know it he’s offering a hug in the small foyer. 
“Hi,” he says, patting your back. Your hands rest tentatively on his sides. 
“Hi.” 
He holds you at arm’s length before dropping his touch. “You look pretty,” he says. 
Which is a whole other category of thing. “Thank you. Is this the sort of thing you wear to dinner?” 
“You can wear pyjamas, if you like. Jack usually does.”
“That would make a good first impression.” 
Haley appears from a doorway. “Oh, you’re here,” she says, smiling. “Hello, hello!” 
You get another hug. Haley smells like expensive perfume and softness. Her hair is perfect. She’s one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, and it’s emphasised by her glowing smile. “Jack is bouncing off the walls, but he might get a little shy when he really gets to meet you.” Her smile softens. “Wow. You don’t look much like him, but you have his frown. How’s that possible?” She nudges Aaron. “You’re so moody it’s in your DNA.” 
“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous,” you explain. 
“Me too,” Haley says. 
“It’ll be okay.” Aaron gives Haley a squeeze around the shoulders. “He’s in the living room. Are you ready?” 
“Maybe she should go in by herself.” 
You and Aaron both stare at Haley. 
“I should?” you ask. 
She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere. But maybe Aaron can introduce you and then bow out. It’s less pressure on both of you.” 
You honestly couldn’t agree less with her, and Aaron’s giving her a dubious frown, but she’s Jack’s mom and your dad’s wife and you’re too scared of upsetting her to disagree. 
Aaron, however, isn’t worried. “You don’t have to,” he says, giving Haley a rub on her shoulder, “it’s just a suggestion.” 
“It’s okay. Um, whatever you guys think is best.” 
So Aaron opens the living room door and walks you in. 
Jack is drawing a bright picture on the floor, surrounded by a spread of crayons and washable markers. He has a huge sketch pad, where light from the TV stains the white with cartoon colours.
“Jack.” Aaron touches the back of your arm. “Bud, Y/N’s here for dinner.” 
Jack whirls. As predicted, he sees you and his smile turns to shyness. You’re feeling shy, too, tempted to hide behind Aaron’s arm, but stepping forward when he prompts you to. 
“Hi, Jack,” you say. 
“Hi,” he says, lookin at Aaron. 
“This is your big sister,” Aaron says. 
Because Jack is your little brother. Half brother, but brother. You weren’t expecting to feel so awed. 
You step out of your heels, you should’ve at the door, and use the armrest of the couch to lower yourself onto your knees. You just wanna see him. 
He’s quite big, for his age. He’s tall. He has brown hair with slightly blond ends, and his eyes are big, flush with dark lashes. You have some of the same DNA, but you’re not sure you could tell with the two of you side by side. 
“You look like your mommy,” you say. 
“You don’t,” Jack says. 
“I look more like my mommy.” You smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” 
“You don’t look like a sister,” Jack says. “You’re old.” 
“I’m not that old.” 
Aaron laughs and touches your shoulder again. It’s nice to think he’s standing by. 
“I… I can still do big sister stuff, even if I’m old,” you hedge gently. “I can still do fun stuff, I swear. I’m super fun.” 
Jack pulls himself on knees to sit very close to you. He takes the skirt of your dress into his hand and pets it. “What if we ruin your dress?” he says worriedly. 
“I have so many like this, it’s okay.” 
His smile warms. “Okay. You want to colour with me?” 
“Yes, yeah, I do. I really want to, what can we colour?” 
“I’ll draw you a picture.” 
You look up at Aaron with a smile that threatens to set with the wind. You’d be stuck like that, grinning with a mixture of relief, pride, and affection. 
“I’m gonna go help Haley set the table,” he tells you. You’re probably wanting more than he’s giving, but you swear, he talks with love. “Okay?” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay, dad,” Jack says, taking your hand to pull you to the crayons. “We’re gonna colour now.” 
“Okay, buddy. Draw me something nice.” 
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lundenloves · 1 year
Note
DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k
dad!simon masterlist | taglist
Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.
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Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.
And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.
In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.
"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.
“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.
“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”
Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.
“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”
“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.
It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.
“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.
“Solid. Johnny.”
He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”
Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.
Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 
“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.
“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 
“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”
He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.
“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 
It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.
His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 
Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.
“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 
“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”
“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 
“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 
“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 
And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 
So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.
“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.
“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 
Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.
“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside
And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.
“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.
Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 
“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 
There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 
Not now anyway.
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simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Text
make a move || fridolina rolfo x reader ||
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frido's teammates convince her to make the first move with you.
mapi snickered as she watched frido watching you. it couldn't have been a mistake that you almost always found yourself near their bench whenever you came to report on their games. you had always loved the sport, and barcelona was your favorite team. it was why you had initially jumped at every opportunity to report on the women's team. you still loved the game, but admittedly, you also had developed quite a crush on a certain swedish player.
"what is so funny?" alexia asked as she glanced at her friend. mapi pointed at frido, who was staring at you like she was head over heels. the two of you had spoken several times over the course of her time in spain, and the whole team had caught onto her feelings for you. "she's wearing that dress frido likes."
"trust me, she definitely noticed. isn't that right fridolina?" mapi teased. frido reluctantly tore her eyes away from you to glare at mapi. "(y/n) looks good in that dress. it does wonders for her ass."
"careful, frido can fight," ingrid warned. mapi didn't listen and continued to tease, earning herself a water bottle thrown her way. their antics continued throughout the end of the game, just a small distraction that you could see from the corner of your eye as you reported on the end of the game. the team began to file onto the field to celebrate, which was when you took your opportunity to speak with frido.
"excuse me, miss rolfo, do you have a moment to talk about the game?" you asked. frido let out a small sigh as she heard mapi and alexia laughing behind her.
"for you, i have as many as you need," frido said. you blushed at her words. years of media training had never stood a chance against the charming swedish woman. every single time that you interviewed frido, you felt like a bumbling idiot. some of your co-workers had noticed this, but the players that you interviewed liked you quite a bit and always let you interview them no matter what, so nobody said anything.
"thank you. congratulations on the win and successful header in the corner. i know that it's definitely my contender for goal of the match. what was going through your head today?"
"we're coming in as champions, and this first game is just a taste of what's to come for the rest of the season. everybody has been working hard, and we all just wanted to show that today," frido answered. the two of you continued your interview, and once it was finished, you reluctantly let her go and found more players to speak with. after about 30 minutes, you were finished with post-game interviews and your crew began to pack up their things.
"go on, they're getting ready to leave. this is your chance," ingrid said as she pushed frido towards you. the blonde felt like a baby deer as she tried to walk casually over towards you. luckily for her pride, your back was turned as you chatted with a young fan.
"ahem, excuse me, do you have a minute?" frido asked as she noticed your conversation come to an end. you stood up and looked at her, more than a little surprise she came over to talk after the cameras were done rolling.
"i guess i could find a few for you." you were definitely flirting with her, but were doubtful that it would amount to anything. flirting with frido was nothing new for you, and it always ended up the same way. you never went on any dates or saw each other outside of the football stadiums.
"good, i was hoping that maybe after this we could meet somewhere. i don't know if you have much work to do after this, but tonight, the girls will all be out at a bar. maybe i could get your number and let you know which one? i bet you could get some pretty interesting quotes." frido was trying very hard, and you appreciated the obvious effort.
"i would like that a lot." you scribbled your number on the back of one of your business cards. "the ones on the front are for the channel, but my personal one is on the back. feel free to call or text me for other things, i hear that i'm great dinner company."
"well, i can't drink on an empty stomach. does 7 sound okay?" frido asked. she felt like her lungs couldn't quite pull in enough air, but you were smiling at her, so she must have been doing something right.
"perfect, i look forward to dinner and a few drinks. it's a date," you said. frido swallowed nervously as she nodded, and she swore she was going to pass out when you leaned in and kissed her cheek.
"you know, it isn't too late for us to just turn around and go somewhere else," frido offered as the two of you turned down the street the bar was on. your dinner date had been nice. in terms of first dates, it was one of the best ones you'd been on. the restaurant was nice, frido was great company, and everything was just casual enough to keep you out of your own head.
"that sounds nice, but i'm kind of excited to see what everybody is like off of the field. and don't worry, i'm not going to be collecting any quotes," you told her. frido sighed and pouted at you, which nearly did get you to agree to go somewhere else, but one of her teammates spotted the two of you.
"about fucking time! do you know how long we've been waiting for you to get over here?" you had met claudia a couple of times before, mostly from your coverage from the barcelona b-team games. she had always been one of your favorites to interview, despite how difficult it could be to get to actually answer your questions.
"oh good, they're waiting for us," frido grumbled. you rolled your eyes as you grabbed frido's hand and led her into the bar. the patrons were mostly the players, and they all turned their heads to look at you when you walked inside. frido was quick to pick out a spot with some of the quieter girls and led you over to join her. "what can i get you to drink?"
"a manhattan if they have it. if not, just a shot of vodka," you told her. frido looked surprised by your choices, but didn't say anything. you had been a bit of a partier at university, so you knew that you could handle anything. the drink thing was also a good test of your dates because the last thing you wanted was someone who was overly judgemental.
frido left and came back just a couple moments later with your manhattan. she had something clear for herself that she took a sip of as she slid in next to you. it was a bit awkwardly cramped until you moved her arm around your shoulders. the two of you sat there with two of her teammates, marta and caroline, who were more than happy to sit out some of the more rambunctious activities of the night.
"do you dance?" you asked as you noticed more of the team move onto the dance floor.
"not really, no. you can go if you'd like to though," frido answered. she started to move out of the booth, but you held onto her to keep her next to you.
"no, it's fine. i'm having fun like this. i'm a little too sober to dance by myself."
"do you have to go all the way to madrid?" frido whined. you had your bags packed for your weekend in madrid. the weekend was full of games for both the women's and men's leagues, and your boss wanted you at all of them. it was a big step, and while it was a lot of work, you were more than ready for it.
"yes, i do, and while i would love to stay and enjoy your bye week with you, i have to go. don't miss me too much, okay? i have to go, my cab will be here any minute," you said. frido grumbled, but sat up to give you a proper goodbye hug and kiss anyway.
the two of you were a few months into your relationship and it felt unreal. you loved frido, you were sure of it, even if you hadn't said it yet. you hoped that frido loved you too, and a part of you knew that you wouldn't feel this way if she didn't. everything was too strong to just be coming from one direction.
"text me before you get on the plane and when you land. then, if you feel up to it, give me a call at the hotel? this feels like an awful long time to be away from you." frido cupped your cheeks in her hands and leaned down to kiss you. without your heels, you felt so small next to her. you had never really realized how much of an edge those gave you when standing around athletes all day.
"i will, i promise. see you monday night, love you," you said as you stepped out of frido's apartment. you hadn't even realized what you said until you were in the car and riding towards the airport. you were terrified to look at your phone, but when you did, you couldn't stop smiling from frido's message.
*'i love you too <3'
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lunaritex · 2 months
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DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. . .ᐟ — s. rintaro
—✩ content: established relationship, timeskip! suna, reader is female (she/her pronouns), tooth-rotting fluff.
—✩ author’s note: first post and it’s for none other than suna. its been a while since i write so forgive me if this is rusty heh...
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Dating a famous volleyball player means you have to deal with unnecessary fans. Fans who are desperate to do anything to get their attention, even if it means putting themselves in embarrassing situations. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be in a romantic relationship with Suna Rintarou. You had known one another since high school and you were by his side through thick and thin. 
After graduating from high school and entering the corporate industry, you managed to secure a stable job for yourself. With the combined salaries from both of you, you were living a rather decent life. Currently, you were in the VIP seats as you watched the rather intense match unfolding itself before your very eyes. You tuned out your surroundings, focusing on your lover as he moved across the court with years of experience. 
You dug your nails into the fabric of your high-waisted pants, chewing on your bottom lip as you mentally prayed that they would win the final round. And to no one’s surprise, they won. The entire place was engulfed with outstanding applause and cheering noises, as the audience rose to their feet to clap enthusiastically. You wasted no time in leaving your seat, heading down so you could greet and congratulate your lover. 
You nodded in acknowledgement to the manager, waving at Suna’s teammates as they made way for you to approach the middle-blocker. You could never get enough with how his eyes lit up, how the smile stretched across his face when they landed on your approaching figure. Knowing he was all sweaty, you merely stopped before him and gave him a smile. 
“Well done, Rin. I’m proud of you,” you spoke up, voice crystal clear despite all the commotion occurring in the background. 
The middle blocker’s features softened, eyes now filled with nothing but pure love and adoration. “Thanks, love.” 
“Mm, I always knew you could win,” you teased him, playfully nudging your elbow against his and your action elicited an amused chuckle from him. 
“Of course I-”
“Excuse me, Suna. Is it alright for me to interview you for a short while?” 
A professional female voice interrupted your conversation, rudely cutting in and even went as far as to shove you to the side. You would have fallen flat to the ground if Osamu was not quick enough to catch you. Nodding your thanks to him, you turned to your lover and sniggered at the evident annoyance on his face. You knew how much he disliked being asked to do interviews as according to him, the industry is filled with nothing but nosy people who kept poking their noses into his private life. 
He wanted to reject the woman but a warning glare from his manager made him reluctantly accept it. Not wanting to distract Suna, you moved away from him and mingled amongst his teammates, chatting and laughing with them. You did all of that while remaining blissfully oblivious to how your lover was staring at you, flames of jealousy burning in the depths of his stomach. 
“..na? Um, Suna?” 
“Huh?”
He blinked, snapping back to reality and turned his attention to the interviewer, who had a mild annoyed look on her face but it vanished in a blink of an eye. She plastered a fake and professional smile, pushing the mic closer to his mouth so it could clearly pick up his voice. 
“I was actually asking if you have a girlfriend or not?” 
“...What?” He owlishly blinked his eyes, rather taken aback at the bold and daring move she pulled off in front of the camera. 
“Did you not hear me the first time? I said-”
“No, I heard you loud and clear. I am so glad to answer your question, just give me a minute,” he flashed her a closed-eye smile before heading over to where you were. 
“...then poor Rintarou nearly fell from the- What the!” 
You were in the middle of telling an embarrassing moment about your beloved lover when you were abruptly dragged away from his teammates. Suna turned a deaf ear to your protests and struggles; his strength completely overpower yours. He eventually stopped before the interviewer and without warning, pulled you in for a searing kiss. You went as stiff as a statue, limbs and mind frozen. 
A part of you was well-aware of how he had revealed your relationship to the entire world and another part of you was starting to panic over how his career might be at stake, now that everyone knows about the two of you. The kiss ended as fast as it started. Suna pulled away with a smug look on his face, right hand resting on your waist as he made direct eye contact with the camera. 
“I hope that answers your question. Thanks for the interview, see you never.”
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kasagia · 3 months
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Right Hand - Epilogue
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~
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"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.
"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.
"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?
"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.
"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?
"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.
He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:
"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"
There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.
Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.
Which actually isn't far from the truth now…
"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.
"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.
"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.
"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?
"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"
"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.
"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."
"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."
You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.
"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.
"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.
You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.
"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.
"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.
"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.
"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.
You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.
So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.
"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.
"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."
"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.
"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…
"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.
"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.
He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.
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"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.
You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.
"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.
"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"
"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.
However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.
"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"
You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.
"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.
"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."
His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.
"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.
He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.
You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.
"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.
You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.
You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...
"Yes."
You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.
"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.
"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.
"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.
"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"
"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.
"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."
"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"
"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.
"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.
"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.
He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?
"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.
You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.
"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.
Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.
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You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.
"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."
"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.
"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.
"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.
As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.
"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"
"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."
"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.
Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.
You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.
"You are… how long?"
"A few weeks."
"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.
"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."
"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.
"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.
"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.
You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?
"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.
You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.
"I… had… visions."
"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."
"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.
"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"
"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.
You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.
"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?
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"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.
You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.
"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.
"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.
"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.
"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.
"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.
You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.
You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.
"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:
"Feyd."
The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.
You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.
He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.
"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.
You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.
You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.
"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."
"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.
"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."
"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.
"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."
"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.
"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.
Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.
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You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.
"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."
"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.
"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.
"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."
"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.
"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"
"No. Not at all."
"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.
"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.
"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.
"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."
You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.
"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."
"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.
You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.
"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."
"Everything we didn't have."
"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.
"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."
"I'm not my uncle."
"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."
He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.
"We should name the girl Katerina."
"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.
"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.
"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.
"And what do you want to name our son?"
"Feydor."
"Feydor? Why?"
"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.
Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.
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"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.
"My son?"
"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.
"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."
"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.
"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.
You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.
"These kids are going to kill us both."
"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.
"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.
A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.
The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.
Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.
And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.
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So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia
Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73
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thevoidstaredback · 5 months
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.
Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!
He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"
Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."
"That implies that you're planning on leaving."
Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."
Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."
Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"
"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."
The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"
Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."
Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.
...damn it.
***
First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.
The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.
He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.
The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.
The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.
Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.
The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.
The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.
Part 4 Part 6
Tag List:
@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581
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andypantsx3 · 5 months
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Hi hi hi, andy! I also have a question abt wimym. I loved reading it sm!! Shouto was so so so soft with the reader I melted everytime they interacted
I wanted to know how Touya reacted to when they became a couple. Did he ever think of the possibility of them being together?
And Rei, when she smiled at the immediate yes from Shouto for the run when the reader said she'd go for the run. Did Rei know?
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Ahhhh thank you to everyone who sent one of these asks, I am so overwhelmed and so very grateful. I had so much fun writing it and I'm so happy you guys liked it.
And I hope it's okay I grouped you all because you had a similar question!! One that I intend to answer with a drabble: What does the main character of our wimym universe Touya (lol) think of Shouto x Reader? ✨✨
(Fair warning the dabihawks shipper in me is at it again in this one).
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You arrived late, thanks to Shouto.
It had been a monumental effort to even get out the door, with the number of times you'd been dragged back underneath Shouto in bed, pressed into the wall and kissed breathless just as you'd escaped bed range, and then followed into the shower as you'd tried to get presentable for Shouto's family.
It was lucky you'd known the Todorokis your whole life, as this was not the first impression you wanted to make as Shouto's life mate.
"They will understand," Shouto intoned as you knocked on the front door.
His breath ghosted over a mark on the back of your neck he'd diligently sucked there not a half hour before, and you shivered with the accompanying memory of his long fingers dipping into the underwear you'd only just managed to pull on.
Before you could respond, however, the door pulled open and you suddenly found yourself with an armful of Fuyumi.
"Congratulations!" she said, and you could tell by the sound of her voice that she was beaming. The sound instantly put you at ease, and you could feel some of the tension leak out of you. She was a fellow beta, not that much younger than you, and always had a way of calming you.
You'd been concerned that his family wouldn't take it well, your being mated to Shouto. But Fuyumi carried on like nothing was the matter.
"We're all so happy. Mom said it was about time, and Natsuo has been inundated with winnings from all the bets he's taken," she said, laughing, punctuating her words with a squeeze.
You blinked. Bets. Had Shouto's regard for you really been that obvious to everyone else, too, all these years? Your ears heated.
Fuyumi released you only to drag Shouto down into a hug too, reaching up nearly a foot to ruffle his hair and murmuring her congratulations to him as well. Shouto's eyes met yours over her shoulder, and he blinked slow like a cat. You could tell how pleased he was.
"Mom's made lunch, I bet you two are famished after everything," Fuyumi said, once she released Shouto.
Your ears went even hotter with the implication, and almost nuclear when Shouto intoned, "We are."
"Shhh," you hissed at him, as Fuyumi gestured you inside. The foyer smelled like her, a cold spring morning, with the undercurrent of Rei's wildflowers.
"They do know what a life mate is," Shouto told you, even as he took your hand in his. "And they are aware that I've had you locked away for days."
Your stomach lurched even as it fluttered with the memory of what those days locked away had been like. "We were playing checkers," you said to Fuyumi.
A pert white eyebrow being raised was all the reply you got as she led you into the kitchen, and you frowned. Todorokis.
In the kitchen, you barely got a glance at the lunch spread before you were immediately engulfed in a hug from Natsuo. Rei smiled at you and petted your hair fondly the way your own mother did, cupping your cheek and looking at you like she'd always sort of known.
A yank from Shouto, however, pulled you out of the way just as a fabric napkin came whipping at your face. You jerked around to find Touya leaning over the table, glaring between you and Shouto like he didn't know which one of you to be more disgusted with.
"That is my baby brother," he hissed to you before rounding on Shouto. "That is my friend."
Shouto's grip on you tightened immediately, eyes narrowing. His mouth pursed. "Y/N is mine, Touya."
You suppressed an eye roll, even as Touya growled. "You wouldn't even know each other if it wasn't for me, you little pervert—"
Well there it was.
"Wow, lunch looks soooo good," you intoned over both of them, turning to Rei with a deliberate flourish. "You always take such good care of me, I am grateful."
Rei's smile was soft, in contrast to Touya's angry growl. You pretended like you were suddenly deaf to that corner of the room.
"Shouto has been in love for a long time. I am happy to know it is someone we all love dearly too," Rei said.
Your face heated, and Touya made another disgusted sound. "And you, what happened to not wanting some knothead idiot?" he demanded over his mother.
Shouto blinked and leaned back, apparently not as fussed with the accusation of being a knothead idiot as he was with the implication that he had to share you with anyone else.
You had to bite down a smile, knowing that would only enrage Touya further.
"I am hungry," Shouto said, ignoring his brother now entirely. "Next time I will make a larger portion for leftovers."
Your skin prickled guiltily. The two of you had worked up an appetite like you'd never had in your life over the past few days, decimating the leftovers and then all the snacks Shouto had packed away for you in his cabinets.
It was honestly only the promise of more homecooked food that had finally lured the two of you out this afternoon, after which you'd make a stop at your mother's and then grab Shouto's bodyweight in groceries before returning to—well, certain activities.
"Next time?" you prompted Shouto, eyebrows raising.
"My rut," he said, and bolt of heat went through you like lightning. You had not thought of that.
Touya made another noise like he was repulsed.
"I would love to not talk about that in front of your family," you said to Shouto, mortified.
"I would love to not be a part of this family," Touya said darkly from the table.
Fuyumi cast him a stricken glance, but before she could say anything, there was a knock at the door. You watched a strange expression overtake Natsuo's face, the same one that came over Shouto's when he was trying not to look too smug.
When Fuyumi returned, it was with a familiar blonde alpha in tow. Keigo grinned around her, leaning forward and giving you and then Shouto a fist bump.
"Had to be here for the celebration," he drawled, his tone airy, wiggling his eyebrows. He looked as at home in the kitchen as he had a lanky preteen, come out to play for an afternoon. "And Rumi's on her way too. Congrats, lovebirds."
You noted Touya's corner was suddenly a fraction more subdued, and your eyes darted to Natsuo again, a brow raising. He watched you back, tucking his cellphone into his pocket with deliberate focus.
You managed to steer Shouto towards Natsuo's side of the table while Keigo threw himself down eagerly next to Touya. Touya bristled like a cat over a bath, grumbling something, but it was drowned out by Keigo helping himself to Touya's personal space, an arm draping behind Touya's chair. Touya shoved him off, swearing.
But beneath the white mess of his hair, you thought the tip of his ear was a rather telling shade of pink.
"Called in reinforcements?" you asked Natsuo as you settled in next to him.
Shouto glanced over, frowning that your attention was elsewhere. You slipped your hand into his, almost melting with the way his thumb stroked over your skin, barely resisting the urge to pinch him for how cute he was.
For his part, Natsuo smiled, patting his pocket pointedly.
"That," he said, returning his gaze to his older brother as he squawked about Keigo's proximity, all dismay with you and Shouto forgotten. A smile pulled at Natsuo's mouth. "And I might have one more bet to win."
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yup-thats-me · 2 months
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—the street interview • Yuta. O
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pairing; bf!Yuta x gf!reader | non-curse au summary; Yuta is sure to let the world know how devoted he is to you warning; none
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“I’ll go to the shop for bit. You wanna come?”
Y/n asked her boyfriend, Yuta. He smiled, shaking his head. “No. Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
“Alright! I’ll be quick”, Y/n smiled pecking him as she rushed off. Smiling, Yuta took out his phone going through all the pictures he took of her beautiful girlfriend.
While on his phone, he was startled when a girl approached him with a microphone and a filming unit. Shit! Y/n come back fast!
“Hey,” He recognized the woman to be Yuki Tsukomo. The famous influencer who goes around town asking people about their romantic preferences.
“Hey…” Yuta replied awkwardly, his eyes darting around frantically, searching for his favorite girl.
Smiling, Yuki continued. “You’re so cute! I’ll get straight to the point,” she urged. “What is your type of girl?”
Yuta was stunned for a moment. His type of girl? He’s a bit embarrassed to reply. Sure, he saw them almost every day of his life, but he did not spare them as much as a glance. How could he look away from you? It will take forever for him to be able to take his mind off you. Thus, how could he have a type when he has you?
“I do not have a type. I have a girlfriend.”
This was an answer Yuki never heard in all her days of doing street interviews. “But surely you have a preference you like?”
Yuta thought for a second. “My preference would be my girlfriend.”
“Dude!” Yuki was getting frustrated. “You must have had girlfriends before her, right?”
“No,” He smiled as he remembered the day when he first met you in a bookshop. But that is a story for another day. “No. She’s the only (normal) one I ever had.”
Yuki’s eyes were wide in surprise. He is so pure, blinded by love; almost like a new puppy who’s fond of their owner. She congratulated the girlfriend in her mind. The girl this guy spoke of, she was being loved so devotedly, so wholly.  She must be very, very lucky.  But Yuki wasn’t the one to give up.
“Then,” She said giving a twirl. “Rate me out of ten?”
Yuta chuckled. Did this woman not realize how much he absolutely adored you. His laugh was the only answer she needed.
“I cannot rate you because my girlfriend’s so beautiful, she broke my meter.” Yuki’s heart was aching for this couple, honestly.
“Yuta!” Y/n came back, two matching keychains in hand. She was about to speak before she noticed Yuki and her filming unit. “You busy?’’
Without a warning, Yuta snaked his hand around Y/n’s waist, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, passionate exchange. Yuki squealed at the scene before her, jumping like a little girl. The bystanders who had been watching their short interview also clapped a bit, happy for the couple.
When they parted, Y/n’s entire face was red; she shyly hid herself in Yuta’s chest,
“Girl, you better keep a strong hold on this man. He’s a keeper. Absolutely smitten!”
Y/n with a smile said, “I plan to.”
And she did.
do not steal, copy or translate my work on other sites. all belong to yup-thats-me™️ on tumblr
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cosmic-waves7 · 1 year
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could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)
Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤
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Honestly?
He doesn't even really notice you at first.
Another student in class-E, just like any other.
Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.
It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.
He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.
Every. Single. Time.
Huh?
You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.
Clearly not.
Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.
It's almost as if you're happy for him.
You don't even know him, not properly at least.
This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.
Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.
Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.
You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.
Everyone comes up to you for anything really.
Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.
Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.
You're just so...approachable.
In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.
Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.
So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.
He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.
Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.
You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.
Anyway.
Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.
Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.
He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.
"_____, help me please?"
He'll even throw in a pout.
Nagisa has to pry him off of you.
You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.
A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.
Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.
Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.
Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.
Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.
Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.
But this whole game is tiring him out.
You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!
It's infuriating.
He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.
Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.
It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.
"I like you."
"...Oh."
(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )
Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.
can the ground just open up and swallow him already, oh god.
“I…like you too.” you shyly smile
karma.exe has stopped working
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nycreid · 9 months
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Just To Name a Few
Spencer reid x popstar!reader
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“Welcome back to the Jimmy Fallon Show, Y/N L/N!” Jimmy smiles and gestures his hands towards me, I smile and wave towards the audience and the camera.
“Thank you for joining me today and congratulations on the release of ‘Daylight’!” Jimmy says excitingly and props up a vinyl of my new album on his desk.
“Thank you Jimmy! It’s so nice to be back and talk with you again.” I say with a smile on my face, “You know this is like a yearly tradition every time I release an album, I was here when I released my first ever album two years ago and then my second album last year and now today!” I chuckle.
“You’re right, you have been here after the release of your past two albums. We should make this a yearly thing.” Jimmy winks and he starts to interview me about my creative process, how my life has been going, and my upcoming films and shows.
“Now the question I’ve been dying to ask.. you have been public with your boyfriend Spencer for about 1-2 years now right?” Jimmy asks with a mischievous smirk on his face.
“Yep..” I say suspiciously while nodding as well.
“We can totally fly past this question and go back to talking about the fire that happened on the set of your movie … but what songs on the album are about Spencer?” Jimmy asks with his chin resting on top of his hands feigning innocence as he leans closer.
I let out a laugh before answering, “You are very bold today Jimmy, I don't mind answering that but I like to leave my fans wondering. I love seeing their tweets and posts deciphering my lyrics, it's like they’re solving a puzzle and I love to see their theories.” I admit with a smile, “I can name you a few songs that are about Spencer but the rest will be hidden and for you guys to find out.” I say to the audience.
“Okay, we’re ready!” Jimmy pulls out a pen and paper, eager to write it down as if he’s going to forget.
I chuckle at him, “Okay, so ‘Dress’, ‘So It Goes’, and very obviously ‘Lover’ are all about him, just to name a few of course.” I wink at the camera.
““So It Goes" is the one that goes “Scratches down your back..” and Dress is “Only bought this dress so you could take it off..” … Oh my Y/N, I didn’t know you were like this.” Jimmy gives an exaggerated gasp and turns towards the audience, “What a way to wrap tonight up huh? Thank you everybody and thank you to the amazing Y/N L/N for joining me today!” Jimmy smiles and we stand and hug and leave the stage as the audience claps.
GARCIA : Spencer!!! you dirty doctor!!! *sent a video link*
SPENCER : ??
Spencer opens up the link and sees it’s an interview of his girlfriend and Jimmy Fallon promoting her new album and film. Spencer smiles as she talks passionately about her new album and creative process until he gets to the part Garcia seemed to be talking about. Spencer blushes as he recalls her song lyrics and the moments they actually happened, he opens up iMessage to text Y/N about it.
SPENCER : Revealing all of our secrets now? Lol. *sent a link*
SPENCER : Did I use “Lol” right?
Y/N : hope you don’t mind babe😚😚
Y/N : yes u did use it right u old man lol
Y/N : come over??
SPENCER : Of course.
Spencer smiles at his phone and sees she hearted his message before turning off his phone to head to Y/N’s house.
i kinda wanna make this an au but lemme know what u guys think and pls send ideas 😚😚
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