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nor-4 · 5 months ago

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The "B" word trend - Formula one and Reader

A/N: @23victoria when i saw her posts i immediately think of this one so thanks to her! Love her works sm

⋆.˚ Max Verstappen

"Hey everyone, love say hi to the camera." You informed max as you touched his legs to catch his attention, "Hi guys" He waved into the camera throwing out a smile.

"So i saw this trend on tiktok.." You started talking while arranging your bag that is on your lap trying to distract you from nervousness, "Yes.." Max nodded as he turns to look at you.

"If i gave you the permission to say the B word, how would you call me?" You stated as you were looking out the window and back to him.

"What i always call you beautiful, what do you mean permission?" Max looked at you with his typical confused look, "No babe what. I meant by you know the curse word." You giggled as you lightly pushed his face away who was about an inch away from you.

"Oh that, i would never say that to you even you say that to me." He shrugged laughing too, "Called me once a bitchy whore for wearing my suit and an attitude." he faced the camera as if he is complaining to the viewers before ending the video.

⋆.˚ Logan Sargeant

"If i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him on ig live while eating beside him, "B word? Bookie? Bookie you look good and shit." Logan continued as he is looking for an answer on your reaction. He isn't fond to these kind of trends but he knows damn well what pookie and bookie is.

"You know bookie but you don't know the b word." You questioned him.

username11: Bye i didn't know this is how the trend is supposed to go

loganlover34: Logan chronically online confirmed?

⋆.˚ George Russell

"So if i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked george and oh boy he is ready as he already seen that trend earlier this morning.

"Okay it's something like this. Biiitch you look so fucking gorgeous or Bitch! You look so fucking gorgeous girl." George sassed waving out his fingers infront of you, "Aw you look like a little twink georgeyy." You stated pressing the e on the nickname as you know how much it cringe him off.

"Eugh, you are taking a piss." George pointed out at you with a disgust changing out his mood, til this day it still makes you laugh on how he acts like the videos of Paul and Morgan on tiktok.

⋆.˚ Lando Norris

: Babe, random thought. If i let you say the B word to me, how would you say it?

Lando reading the text out loud for the stream cause he couldn't show to everyone what contains you conversation. "Oh i think i know this one, It would be like. I love you bitch, ain't never gonna stop loving you bitch." He is saying what he is typing as his friends talk to the background.

Lando: It would be liek. I love you bich, ain't never gona stop loving you bicht.

: You are typing bich baby, that doesn't count.😭😭😭

"You are typing bich. Like bich, what the hell is that spelling right there. That's so british." He yelled at the mic reading out that one typo and ignoring the other.

⋆.˚ Carlos Sainz

"So would you call me the B word if i let you?" You asked facing the phone at him, he is very familiar of this kind of trend as the ferrari hospitality is flooding him with trends especially the "Watch carlos for a second" video.

"Bello. That's the b word i will call you." He smiled very proud of his answer, "Noo you know what b word I'm talking about carlos."

"Bebita, you know papa will kill me if he ever found out I'll call you something like that." It's true though Carlos senior already threatened him about saying things like that around you and to you. "But you know-"

"No. Bello that's the word." he cut you off.

⋆.˚ Daniel Ricciardo

"I already told you danny i wouldn't do anything if you say it." You have been laughing for solid straight 10 minutes now ever since you asked that question, "Bii... Honey i really can't say it." Daniel is like that one Noah and Lori video and that's why you are laughing because of the resemblance.

"Come on, do you want me to cheer for you?" You teased him as he has been jumping, walking, running or just doing anything other than saying the B word.

"Sorry i just couldn't bring myself to say it, okay i lost." He shrugged defeated before slumping down to your feet resting his head on your lap hugging your legs as if his life depends on it.

⋆.˚ Lewis Hamilton

"So how would you say the B word to me?" You have been asking the same question for fifteen times now as he is trying to avoid that question by changing the subject or asking something back at you.

"No i wouldn't say it it's either you will cry or you will be aroused." Lewis said before slumping down the sofa beside you and roscoe beside you.

"Lewis, what?"

"What, who said that?" him acting cool as he wrap his arm around you waist eventually reaching up to roscoe cuddling up the both of you as if you guys are the most fragile and comfortable thing ever in the world.

⋆.˚ Charles Leclerc

"If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked charles and yes it is a very easy question for him as cursingg at your significant others isn't a thing for him it will never be and he thinks that everyone thinks like that too.

"Hello beautiful." He answered before biting into his food, "That's sweet, but not that b word. The other one you know" You corrected him leaving out your food for a second for his reaction.

"Oh i didn't know you are into degrading when it comes to intimate stuff." Charles said before giggling like a teenager, "Cha you know that's not what i meant."

"Yeah but you are into it though"

⋆.˚ Fernando Alonso

Oh girl we didn't see that asking this on live is very bad idea. "If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him placing the phone infront of both of you.

"My belleza? It's the best b word, it fits you." Nando confidently said placing a hand on your back rubbing it, "No i mean by the bad b word." You cleared him.

"My bitch, doesn't sound good. I prefer my belleza more, it fits you well especially when you look under-" You slap Fernando's mouth before everything went down for you as how it is already, "We are on live you oldie." you joked before jokingly throwing his head away.

username3: Got that on screen record lmao

username4: Fernando you nasty girl😝

⋆.˚ Oscar Piastri

"Oscah if i gave you permission to say the B word to me, how much say it?" You asked out of nowhere which made him give you a stank eye once again, "You know you are the B word but i will never say it to you." He rolled his eyes before continuing to type on his phone for his twitter post.

"So if i am there's still a possibility you will say it?" You asked once again pretty same question cause we know you are not gonna let it go, "No, leave it now miss girl before i make you." you know what he means by that and because of that you wouldn't leave him alone.

⋆.˚ Zhou Guanyu

"babe if i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" The first thing you asked in the early morning after a tiring night, "Woman i know this is a trap stop it right now." Zhou finally learned with all these stupid question you asked after failing many times and completely losing his mind.

"I'm just a woman to you know?" You pouted before turning your back at him deciding to cuddle sweetcorn who is sleeping beside you, "Of course not love, you're my woman." he stated before sneaking his arms around your waist and petting sweetcorn.

⋆.˚ Pierre Gasly

"If i gave you permission to say the B word-" yeah he knows it another chronically online men.

"No baby." Pierre said shaking his head from side to side, "I didn't even finished." You raised your eyebrows looking at him as if you suspicion him of something.

"Did your other bitch ask you this question? Why do you know this trend?" You asked pierre as he turned his head at you as if you are going crazy or something, "Are you okay? Literally every post i upload on Instagram your face is there." he tried defending moving his arms in the air while talking.

"So you are getting tired of it?" You asked again feeding his frustration as he just look at you with mouth agape.

#max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #pierre gasly x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #zhou guanyu x reader #fernando alonso x reader #oscar piastri x reader #george russel x reader #lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

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sinofwriting · 4 months ago

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Clingy - Ollie Bearman

Words: 1,211 Summary: Ollie just wants to touch his girlfriend. Which is a bit of a problem when the public doesn’t know about your relationship. (Requested)

Masterlist | Support Me!

Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. The sky is blue, Charles Leclerc is a future world champion, and Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. Those are facts of life as far as he is concerned.

But honestly he dares anyone to not adore her. She’s perfect. Her eyes shine, lighting up and nearly glittering. She listens attentively to everything and everyone. Her hand perfectly fits in his. She always has a sarcastic comment on hand. He has hundreds of thousands of things he loves about her, adores about her, and they all make her perfect.

And it’s hard for him to pick one thing he loves the most about her. There’s the excitement on her face that greets him every time they see each other. Or how she rubs at his earlobe when they fly together. Maybe it’s how she knows all of his favorite things, from snacks, candy, music. But really, it’s the way she lets him cling to her.

He always has to be touching her. It embarrasses everyone they know, the way he just clings to her, gluing himself to every inch of her that he can. His parents, his mom especially, pleads with him to give her space, to let her breath, but he can’t help but touch. Her best friend, every time she sees them, always groans, telling them to get a room. Dino’s face screws up in disgust, usually mock. And she just laughs, running a hand over him, leaning more into him, silently letting him know that it’s fine and that she wants him to touch.

But now, she won’t let him touch, cling, and he pouts.

“Baby,” He whines, reaching out for her, but she stays where she is. “Ollie, if you touch me now, you won’t stop.” “I know.” Her hand comes up to rub at her chest. “And you can’t do that or fans will find out.” He shakes his head. “They won’t! We’re only around Prema and they all know not to post photos of us.” She looks unsure. “No fans will be able to see us. Please let me hold you. And I’ll stop as soon as we leave this area.” She still looks unsure but opens her arms, stepping forward and he quickly meets her.

His arms wrap around her tight, hands finding their way underneath her shirt, to get some much-needed skin contact.

“This is so much better.” He breathes, eyes closing as he lets the feel of her wash over him.

Thirty minutes later when they move to go to Prema’s motorhome, he doesn’t stop touching her. His arm slung around her shoulder, keeping her close as he kept dipping his head down to brush his lips across the top of her head, no matter how difficult it makes it to walk. He’s so wrapped up in her, and her in him, they both fail to notice the person taking a picture of them.

Then later when it’s dark and all the fans and press are gone, only the teams are allowed to still be at the track, a group of them all go to where the fans sit on camping chairs and blankets, sitting on the grass somewhat close together.

“This is nice.” She murmurs. He smiles, moving a little so she can rest against him. “Isn’t it? We don’t get to really ever hang out like this. I mean at restaurants and clubs, sure. But there’s never this many of us at the track together and chilling.” She looks around at the drivers that came with.

Dino, Paul, Jak, Christian and Pepe are all throwing something at each other. Luke watches them and is clearly trying not to laugh as they keep nearly dropping whatever they are throwing. Dennis is fiddling with his phone that's connected to the speaker he brought, Arthur standing behind him also looking at the phone screen.

“It’s a good group.” He laughs, “well, I would hope so since they are all my friends.” “You have more than I thought. Track friends.” She clarifies. “When we first got together, I thought maybe you’d have two or three. But you’ve got nine, they all are amazing.” “It’s too bad Fred couldn’t be here.” “Yeah.” She agrees. “But we’ll see him next week.”

He doesn’t really think about the day. It was just a normal Thursday, it was whatever. He went over the data he needed to, did a few interviews, did some funny stuff for socials. The two things that stick out are her being there and him being able to cling to her and the hangout they had.

He wakes up on Friday to his girlfriend not beside him, but rather standing at the foot of the bed. “What happened?” “A fan took a picture of us yesterday. And Christian posted a few photos on his Instagram story last night and in the very background you can see us.” “Fuck.” He breathes. “Yeah.”

“We’ll just have to be a bit more careful today.” He finally says, sitting up. She gives him a look, “I think it might be best if I stay here for the rest of the weekend, or just stay away from the track.” “What? No!” “Baby, I love that you want to touch me all the time. I would never change that about you.” She tells him, moving onto the bed and holding his hand. “But, we are supposed to be secret. And y’know, we tried me coming to a race and now we know that we can’t do that.” He thinks about her words for all of a second before shaking his head. “No.” “Ollie.” “No.” He tells her. “I know that we were supposed to wait until like August to be public, but it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know that I’m signed with Haas for next year. And I’ve already signed the contract with them. They can’t rip it apart because of this.”

He sighs when she doesn’t say anything, carefully taking her face in between his palms. “Let me worry about what Haas might or might not do. This is on me after all for being clingy.” Her hands come up, fingers wrapping around his wrists. “I love that you're clingy.” Ollie smiles, blood rushing to his face at the quiet words. “It will be okay.” He tells her, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Promise.” “Okay.” She agrees, smiling at him. “Just promise me that you won’t put your hand in my back pocket.” His eyes widened, “You can’t ask me to do that. That’s like asking me not to kiss you.” Her nose wrinkles as he presses a kiss to it. “I can ask that. I don’t think we need pictures of us with your hand on my ass.” He pouts, hands moving from her face to her hips, giving them a squeeze. “But it’s so nice.” He whines before sighing. “Fine. But only if I can put my hand under your shirt.” “Well, I can’t deprive you of everything.” “Exactly.” He grins. She shakes her head, but there’s a smile playing on her lips as she gets off the bed, extending a hand out to him. “C’mon baby, let’s get ready for our first appearance as a couple.”

#f2 imagine #formula 2 imagine #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #sins fics

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sethsclearwater · 5 months ago

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Okay possible imagine/blurb idea: Paul gets into a fight and gets arrested (by chief swan maybe??) and calls reader to pick him up and she’s pissed that he got in the fight in the first place so she takes her sweet time going to get him, she gets her nails done with Emily, she does some shopping, she gets a coffee. She finally picks him up and he’s about to be pissed off about her taking so long but she’s like ‘do it again and I’ll leave you there’ and he’s like 😔sorry ma’am😔

i'm obsessed with this lol

...

"you what?" you repeated back into the phone despite the fact that you'd heard your imprinter loud and clear the first time he said it.

"princess," paul sighed through the line and you almost lost your composure but quickly pulled it back together.

"don't call me that. what the hell were you thinking getting in a fight?" you asked, already knowing it was going to be something dumb. although paul had definitely learned to manage his temper once you came into his life, he still had his moments - especially when someone as annoying as your ex was involved.

"30 seconds remaining," an automated voice cut both of you off before either of you could continue.

paul let out another heavy sigh before continuing, "can you just come pick me up? i don't think incriminating myself over the phone is the best idea," he grumbled and you rolled your eyes, also letting out a loud sigh.

"i'll be there in a little bit. don't do anything stupid," you spoke into the phone before you hung up and emily, who had just picked you up from your apartment, burst into laughter.

"he got arrested? at 9 in the morning?" she laughed and you rolled your eyes, also cracking a smile when you realized just how stupid it was that he managed to get arrested by none other than chief swan (who had taken a bit of a liking to him recently too which made it all the worse that paul was currently sitting in some cell with chief swan monitoring him).

"apparently," you sighed, letting out a breathy laugh, "we can still go to port angeles though, i have until 5 to come get him." you added and emily's smile somehow got even wider.

"let's do it," she laughed before putting the car into drive so the two of you could continue on your shopping day.

by the time you had gotten back to la push, grabbed your car, and gotten over to the forks police station, it was 4:45 and paul had been stuck in there for almost an entire work day.

you did feel a tad bit bad that you'd left him in there for so long but you also knew he'd most definitely learned his lesson and wouldn't be doing this again anytime soon.

so, when you walked inside and filled out all the paperwork, chief swan brought your imprinter out who looked quite bothered to say the least.

"is that all you needed me to fill out?" you asked charlie as he uncuffed paul.

chief swan nodded, "you're all good to take him home," he reassured, "i just got off the phone with the other party and it doesn't sound like they're going to be pressing charges so you two should be all good. i'll come by if there's anything that changes," he added and you let out a sigh of relief, happy to know paul wouldn't be stuck doing court ordered community service or anger management classes thanks to a dumb one-off event.

"thank you," you flashed charlie a smile before you were grabbing your purse and heading outside, already knowing paul would be following shortly behind you.

as soon as you got in the car and paul got in the passenger side, you both finally turned your attention to each other, "8 hours? you know if it was you i would've-" he started but you quickly cut him off as you turned the car on.

"i wouldn't have been dumb enough to get myself into that situation in the first place. you're lucky i even came and got you - next time you're staying there," you threatened, suddenly much more annoyed with the fact that he was annoyed with you.

paul seemed a bit caught off guard by your sudden burst of confidence, staying quiet for a moment while he considered the pros and cons of getting into a fight with you about this.

after a few moments, he let out a sigh, nodding, "yes ma'am," he mumbled, dramatically leaning away from you so he could rest his head against the window while you drove the two of you back to your apartment.

you cracked a smile at his choice of words, reaching your free hand over to give his hand a gentle squeeze which he seemed to appreciate, quickly interlacing your fingers together so he could hold your hand for the ride home.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #pau lahote imagine #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote angst #paul lahote oneshot #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote fanfiction #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #imagine #blurb #fluff #angst

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pha55ed · 3 months ago

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Painfully Oblivious || F2/F3

type :: crack/angst tw/cw :: none contains :: ollie, kimi, paul, dino summary :: reader is completely oblivious to the guys' crush on them, no matter how hard they flirt - made as driver!reader in mind but can be ignored - inspo: glue song by beabadoobee f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 03

Flirting is already hard enough for Ollie, but you make it 100x times harder

He literally has no clue on how to get you to understand that HE LIKES YOU

Ollie usually flirts in subtle ways, like slightly lingering touches, complimenting your outfit, doing small acts of service, etc

Only problem is, you don't notice them at all

And when you do notice them, you just assume he's a super nice and friendly dude! :D

One time you were complaining about how cold it was, especially since you forgot your jacket

Ollie instantly took off his jacket and gave it to you, not saying another word out of shyness

But your dumbass thought he just wanted him to hold his jacket...

So you and him were walking side by side, with you carrying his jacket in your arms whilst still complaining about how cold you are

Ollie looked at you, dumbfounded, how could you not piece together to wear his jacket???

So he had to explain to you to wear his jacket,,, and that he was giving it to you on purpose,,, not for you to carry around,,,

You literally went:☝️😲💡 OHHH!!!!

He laughs it off, helping you put on his jacket (which was extremely oversized on you)

Yet still, you have the audacity to jokily say: "Haha this is so rom-com! It's just like those movie scenes when the guy likes her and then gives her his jacket hahaha"

Ollie looks at you deadpan,,, he regrets liking someone who oblivious...

But he's fallen too deeply to back out, so he's stuck pining after someone who's dumb as shit

Maybe one day he'll confess, but not yet, not for a very long time

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Getting a crush on someone is kind of new territory for Kimi

He's extremely realistic, and he knows that relationships most likely won't work when being so busy with racing

But for some reason, his brain completely malfunctions every time he sees you, it's as if you rewired his entire mind

He hates it, but he can't help but smile every time he's around you

Following old traditions and media is basically what he tries to do to get you to understand his feelings

But you're so blinded and naive that you can't piece it together

One time he got pole position after a super exhausting race, giving him such an adrenaline boost that he got the balls to ask you out

He asked you out to dinner, which you said yes to eagerly

And he was on top of the world, he’s never felt luckier: to not only win a race but to win over his crush???

He gets dressed super nice, does his hair, and even gives himself a pep talk

The dinner between you both goes amazingly, and he’s over the moon

That is, until you say: “Where’s everyone else? No one else came to your Winner Dinner? :(“

And he literally wants to strangle you…

A great dinner that lasted almost two hours of chatting and eating great foods

Connecting on so many different topics, relating to each other

So he face palms, making you confused as hell? Cause what you asked wasn’t odd in your eyes???

But he gets so frustrated that he just says, “No one else came because this is a DATE!!!”

And instantly you’re like 😧, blushing even. You had zero clue and were too dumb to piece together that all of this was a date

He can’t even be mad at you because he finds your obliviousness kinda cute - but he does hope you get the hint that he likes you from then on

Paul Aron | 17

Everyone knows Paul is a bit of a player, but contrary to popular belief: it’s not on purpose

Ladies just throw themselves to Paul, which is super understandable

But Paul literally has no clue how he has so much rizz despite him doing literally NOTHING to earn their affection

(It’s because he’s gorgeous and flirty on accident)

Despite how many girls like him, for some reason he can never get you to like him,,, or at least acknowledge he likes you

He’s been pretty forward with his crush on, the most forward out of all of the guys by far

Giving you flirty compliments, always searching you out in crowds to talk with you, being possessive over you when anyone else tries to get your attention, even remembering what you said you liked so he can buy it for you

He’s basically already your boyfriend, just without the title and without you knowing

And he kinda likes it? But also hates it?

He loves not having the complete title of a relationship so he’s not fully committing

But he also hates it since he can’t stop feeling jealous when others hit on you or when others crush on you

So he decides to just blatantly ask you out, hoping you’d finally understand that all this times he’s been trying to pin after you

He sets an entire day dedicated to you. Giving you a beautiful flower bouquet, taking you to your favorite restaurant, and even taking you on a night walk on the beach

It’s extremely cheesy, but he doesn’t even care

So at the end of the day, when he’s dropping you off - he goes for it

He kisses you in his car, right in-front of your house, exactly like every rom-com movie to ever exist

He does it because he knows there’s no way words will get through you dumb pea brain that he actually likes you

So when he gently removes his lips off yours and looks at your shocked face, he’s hoping you say you like him back

Or even better, he hopes you kiss him again

Dino Beganovis | 01

You two are kinda in the same both, you’re both insanely oblivious to your feelings to each other

Dino only realizes he likes you after Ollie and Kimi point out how much happier he is with you: as if he’s on cloud 9 the second you’re in his vicinity

He’s in denial at first, he asks Paul and Paul straight up says: “I thought you two were dating already???”

And now Dino is having a crisis because OH MY FUCKING GOD HE LIKES HIS BEST FRIEND??? THIS WHOLE TIME??????

So now he’s super nervous around you, he can’t even mutter a word to you without looking away

Your eyes have suddenly gotten 10x times prettier, as if they were a black hole sucking his soul in

Your hair is suddenly so much shiny and soft, making everything else in the world seem rough and coarse in comparison

Everything about you is stunning, and he can’t get you out of his head

He wants this crush phase to be over, but you won’t allow that since you’re too blinded to see that he likes you

It makes him go crazy because he’s so anxious of you not liking him back and possibly ruining your whole friendship

But every driver encourages him to make a move and test the waters - which takes him weeks of planning of how he’s gonna do it

So, while you two were having your usual movie night: he made his first move

He stretches his arm and rests it on your shoulders, basically side hugging you

But you confuse his action as wanting popcorn, you shove a handful of popcorn into his hand and smile at him

He smiles back, kinda disappointed his flirting didn’t work but he tries again

Being super risky, he decides to put his hand on your thigh

And you look at him like: 🤨 what? meh,

And go back to watching the movie without caring at all

All he does is just sigh and take his hand back, he decides he'll just try again a different day

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

#f2 #formula 2 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #paul aron #paul aron x reader #dino beganovic #dino beganovic x reader #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #f3 #formula 3 #formula 3 x reader #f3 x reader #prema racing #hitech

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daddyhausen · 5 months ago

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「 COMMISSION FOR : @kashmirclam 」

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡「 JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY 」｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

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「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 WWE MASTERLIST 」 | 「 DOMINIK MYSTERIO MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

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「 SUMMARY 」 — dom is a little jealous that you’re spending all your time around a certain blond haired narcissist

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, dom!dominik, sub!reader, brat!reader, brat taming, hair pulling, spanking, degradation, jealous sex, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasm, squirting, internal cumshot, vaginal creampie

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 2.9k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x dominik mysterio

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @mjfass @wardlow @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwriter @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper @nev-danielgarciawife

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dominik’s heavy footsteps trudged through the backstage area, echoing with the unbridled jealousy that raged within him, as if his furrowed brow and tightly pursed lips weren’t a definitive indication. he was never one to shy away from displaying his jealousy, especially when it came to you. he’d seem it just before his match, you engaged in a particularly flirty conversation with one narcissist logan paul, who’d taken quite a fancy towards you himself, despite your relationship status. now you were not stupid, a little naive at times but certainly not stupid. flirting back seemed like a natural playful response despite his more devious intentions to bed you himself. despite the constant avoidance of eye contact the more persistent his flirtation became.

dominik’s eyes held heavy with jealousy, annoyance moreso. the browns of his irises seem to hold more crimson in rage over anything. a small huff of a breath prominent against his lips, his chest tightening with proactive rage, threatening to spill as the blond’s fingertips lightly grazed your forearm with devious intent. dom’s throat ran dry, even in an attempt to wet his lips only left him feeling parched, the anger within him never subsiding. his gaze tunnelled at you and the blond, everything else but faded black in his eyes as he made a beeline towards the two of you.

his movements were subtle, he did not want to start a fight in catering despite his more protective instincts desiring otherwise. he remained outwardly patient, lips folded into a tight scowl, back pressed against the wall, listening in on your conversation.

he watched the way your lashes fluttered softly each time you blinked, the soft creases of your eyes crinkled each time you smiled. the sweet giggles left your lips, flowed off your tongue like angelic hymns. to dominik, he knew logan was not competition when it comes to your relationship, but something about the way he was able to make you laugh so easily, it irked dom. he’s the only one who’s supposed to make you beam like that, the only one who has the damn privilege of making you smile! hell, he knows he’s the only one who's ever made you beg, fall to your knees in a fit of pleas and whines, practically grasping at his thighs in a desperate attempt to please him. he’s the only one who can stuff your mouth so full of his cock that it leaves bruising in the back of your throat, a sight he most definitely enjoyed.

dominik kept his gaze fixed on logan now, the prick's eyes staring down at you with a subtle yet lustful intent, and you were none the wiser of his intentions. poor, naive girl. he watched the way logan’s hands swiped away a stray, curled lock of your hair, one that resides by your neck, his fingers dangerously close to your breast, but subtle enough not to cause a stir. dom’s eyes darkened, the rage burned with him. fuck subtly, he once again made heavy trudges towards, the two of you, completely bypassing logan, his hand wrapping around your wrist, practically dragging you behind him.

his steps were wide, determined. you were pretty much hobbling twice your normal speed behind him.

“dom! what the fuck?-”, your retort was loud and intentional. in which you hoped others would gain notice of your boyfriend’s unprecedented behaviour.

still, dominik remained silent. moreso in order to hold his tongue from exploding. the tightness of his drip increased on your wrist, the eventual arrival in the parking lot only prompted him with a two word response.

“get in.”, his hand wrapped around the door handle of the passenger side of your rental car. his knuckles bleached with anger. you stared at him for a moment, absolutely dumbfounded at your boyfriend’s highly irrational behaviour.

“now!”.

the subtle widening of your eyes went unknown to him as you stepped into the car, a soft scowl forming across the curve of your lips, more so of a pout than the former. the slam of the car door left a dull ringing in your ears for less then a second, the recoil shaking the car slightly. dominik entered the car beside you, hands gripped on the steering wheel with a tightness that could rival even the strongest of men. the skin around his knuckles were already void of colour, somehow the appeared more pallor the tighter he held it. somehow, you could not shake the thought of said hand around your throat, grasping tightly, enough to constrict your airways but light enough to leave you in such a wondrous dizzy haze.

the car ride was met with silence. a painful one that was undertoned in malice. dom’s gaze was fixated on the road, all dark and brooding, the veins in his forearms pulsing with anger.

“you still didn’t answer my question”.

your words fell on deaf ears as dominik continued to stare invisible daggers through the windscreen, as if his gaze was piercing the glass.

“dom, answer me-”.

you slapped his arm lightly in an attempt to rouse him out of his enraged state, to no avail. dom continued his tunnelled glare, not breaking his stare, he didn't even acknowledge your presence even upon arriving at the back at the hotel.

“get out”.

he continued to respond in stern short sentences. his gaze still purposefully avoided yours.

“get the fuck out of the car.!”.

his words were spiteful and bitter, like venom dripping from the tip of his tongue with each syllable.. when you did not budge, barely moved an inside aside from a subtle flinch at the loudness of his voice, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you from the passenger seat, a small sudden yelp left your lips. in any other situation you would have stood your ground, retorted with a flurry of curses and insults. dom’s possessiveness had never held a forefront within your relationship previously and seeing him act out in such a way, as immature as it would seem to some, to you it was rather arousing.

the way his eyebrows were tightly knit with an accompanying scowl, eyes heavy set with rage and jealousy. you were his and his only. the only thing so pure and untouched by others, he was the only one allowed to revel in your flesh, let the taste of you mingle on his tongue. even by the sheer grip around your wrist others could tell you belonged to him, not just in the context of a relationship, but primally, you were meant for him, your entire existence, at least romantically, revolved around him.

as he practically dragged you up the stairwell, your apartment only being an hour or so drive from the arena, speckles of dusk still littered the sky as it slowly blended with nightfall amongst the horizon, the glow gave his skin a more honeyed complexion, the same can be said for his eyes, more amber despite how darkened with rage they seemed.

he was quick as he unlocked the front door, his movements did not falter once, even in his enraged state. if anything his hands held more precision than normal. the soft click of the lock met your ears, dominik shoved you inside, his hand rested on the small of your back, yet he made no attempts in touching you further. instead, he stood still, his body towered over your meek form, arms folded across his chest, as he stared down at you with what could not be described as hatred, more or less, disappointment that you would stoop so low as to converse with the likes of logan.

“tell me what you did wrong”.

it was not a question. more so a demand.

you stared at him, your gaze matched the disappointment his eyes held, albeit more rage held in yours.

“what i did wrong?”, a scoff fell from your lips, an emphasis on “i”. dominik simply nodded, unmoving in other aspects. “talking to someone isn’t a crime-”.

“well i wouldn’t consider what you were doing to be “talking’”,

dominik’s voice lowered an octave, an accusatory tone laced in his words. you narrowed your gaze at him.

“so what?, it's a bit of harmless flirting, that just the way i talk-”.

dominik scoffed. “and how do you think he would have interpreted that, huh?”.

dominik stepped closer to you, his frame pinned you against the wall, his palms flush against the wallpaper, your head entrapped between them.

“you know i don’t like you talking to him”, he cocked his head to the side in some sort of pseudo-playful facade.

“you don’t get to decide who i talk to-”.

“this is different”.

“how?”.

“because he likes you! how are you so blind as to not see that?!”.

in your peripherals you noticed dominik’s fists clenched together, his knuckles matched the paleness of the wallpaper. his jaw set, teeth grinding in frustration.

“oh my god dom, you’re acting paranoid!”.

he shot you a glare that was a mixture between confusion and anger. he let his left hand fall from beside your face to hover just above your shoulder. he still remained silent.

“or maybe, just maybe you're insecure”, you accused. “you're so worried that he could steal me away from you at any moment”

“me? insecure?”, dominik let out a sarcastic chuckle. “and i’m sure as hell, not worried about that prick taking you from me, you wanna know why?’.

dominik took another step towards you, his body pressed flush against yours. hips lips lingered centimetres from your own.

“because i. own. you”, his statement was simple, once that only made you shake your head in response..

“oh, but i do, princess. all those times i’ve made you scream and beg for me, left you dripping my cum”.

he paused for a moment, his top lip brushed against your cupid’s bow.

“your body was made for me to fuck”.

your breath involuntarily shuddered at his statement.

“and he will never know what it is like to fuck you, have you scream his name because that…is only for me’.

his hand rested upon your hips, his thumb swirled languid circles into the flesh, slow yet meticulous as he trailed it up your waist, his fingerprints created small divots in your skin, ones that made your breath quiver on exhale. he took notice, a small smirk crept upon his lips, his tongue lightly flicked across his teeth, canines gently grazed against the fleshy appendage.

“oh? you’ve gone quiet now, huh?”, his breath fanned against your neck, lips moved in featherlight touches as he spoke. “where’s the brat i was talking to before, hmm?”.

you remained silent, defiant before him, you did not give him the satisfaction of a response. but deep down you knew he was right, no other man had made you feel the way dom did. his presence itself was alluring, it drew you in, as if he was the only man on earth in your eyes.

his gaze bored into yours, it left you with a slight sense of unnerve.

“don’t worry princess, before the night is over, i’ll make you scream for me”.

his movements were agile, taking a fist full of your hair, as he tugged at the roots, with all intention of being rough. you gave a small yelp in response, still did not offer him a concise and clear sentence.

“still not talking, huh?”, his words muttered against your neck. “i’ll put that pretty mouth to better use later, but now…”.

he paused, as he inhaled the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume, his breath hitched in his throat as the subtle fragrance of jasmine met his lungs.

“i’m going to fuck your brains out”.

dom was far too impatient in his own right to drag you upstairs to the bedroom, instead, he placed a hand onto your shoulder, he forced you down onto your knees. your initial thought was that he was going to abuse your throat for a while like he’d previously mentioned. rather he simply stood behind you, his foot pressed between your shoulder blades, he left you pinned and prone against the bottom step.

“dom what the hell-?!”, you finally seemed to acknowledge him, in lieu of the fact you’d become so incredibly wet by his dominance.

with a lack of response on his part, the sound of his zipper hastily coming undone was enough to prick your ears up with intrigue. his foot still present on your back, the shuffle of his jeans as he pulled them halfway down his thighs. his fingers still woven in your hair, the other hand fisted his swollen cock. he gave a soft grunt in reaction to his own touch.

“keep still for me”.

his fingers traced against your clothed cunt, your body stiffened against the sudden pressure at your core. he hummed, satisfied that he’s already gotten you so sensitive. he let the digits slip into the waistband of your leggings, his fingertips danced across your clit, as they dipped into and between your soaked folds.

“mmm, so wet… you like me being rough with you?”.

it was a rhetorical question and he knew it. he knew you enjoyed being toyed with , thrown around and preyed upon like a piece of meat. he pulled his fingers from between your folds, eager to fill you up. then again, eager wasn’t exactly the word to describe it, more so impatient. he did not utter another word, instead, he bunched up the fabric in his hand, scrunched between his calloused fingertips, as he ripped a hole directly down the seam, your panties on full display for him.

you gasped at the sensation, cool, midnight air hitting your semi-exposed cunt, the pool of wetness that built on the fabric certainly did not help with the chill. dominik let out a soft hum in satisfaction, his fingers once again weaved their way into your panties, this time not to toy with you, to simply slide them out of the way for easier access. he removed the pressure of his foot from your back, it allowed you some reprieve and slightly better breathing room. He knelt behind you as he stuffed his cock between your folds, instantly feeling the warm, wet stretch of your cunt as he filled you to the brim.

“fuck…look at that, princess. didn’t have to prep you or anything”.

his words held a small lilt and a chuckle at the end of his sentence. his hips were ravenous in their motions, denied the time to adjust to the size of him, simply to mould the shape of his cock within you with each thrust. he wanted to be quick, to prove to you that he did not need time or patience to prove who you belonged to, just the sheer force of his cock would be enough to have you worship the ground he walks on, completely subservient to his needs.

“you know that he would never fuck you this good, baby”.

he mentioned logan again, all without mentioning him by name, as if it was an insult to his tongue for him to utter.

“mmm fuck…”

your whimpers muffled against the polished redwood of the staircase. cheek pressed firmly into it, a small pool of drool gathered around your lips,. making the wood glisten under the dim yellow glow of the hallway lights, the only source of illumination of your semi-exposed figure, a sort of luminescence that made you radiate with the aura of a siren or some other mythical succubi.

“so fucking tight”, dom’s teeth bit at his bottom lip ravenously, almost drawing blood just from the pressure he put on it. “you take my cock so perfectly, princess”.

his moans escaped his lips in stuttered grunts, only paused to inhale with each violent thrust every time his hips connected with yours.

“only need my cock to satisfy you…”.

you remained silent, only moans spilled from your lips in the absence of words, his cock filled you up completely, the vicious slap of skin against skin, his tear-inducing thrusts accompanied the pleasured sounds. you felt so full with him, his meaty cock filled your slick cunt, gummy walls clenched around him with tight pulses.

“gonna fill you up…so he knows you belong to me”.

dom had every intention of doing so, even as he felt your impending orgasm, the contractions around his cock closed in with shortened intervals, your cunt drooled as slick glistened down your thighs. he knew you would revel in it, in the pleasure he provided, in the warmth that he’d fill you with, you’d savour the feeling as if you could taste it. his hand wrapped in your hair, he tugged tightly as your head flung back in pleasure and with the force of his movements, your cheek sticky with spit. he made no attempt to announce his orgasm, a simple grunt on his part was all it took to let you know, and the viscous warmth that spread through your loins, heat pooled in your belly. before you could even savour the sensation, he pulled out, with the lack of acknowledgement of your own orgasm as the feeling slowly dissipated. a small whine left your lips, your own orgasm slowly ebbed back into nothingness.

dom gave a small chuckle, he simply admired the sight of you all spread for him, your cunt leaked with hot ropes of his lust, you whined, almost begged for him to, at the very least, reach your peak before he stopped. he noticed the way you made an attempt to stand, your thighs shook, quivered with pleasure. he made no effort to help, he insisted that you crawl on your hands and knees if you had to.

“get your ass upstairs princess, i’m not done with you yet”.

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#{ my fics : 🤍 }#dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio smut #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fics #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe

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intheupside · 5 months ago

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That year, the NHL was embroiled in one of its periodic work stoppages, this one a lockout.Players were allowed at practice facilities, but team officials were not.

Crosby took on the role of media relations director. A day in advance, he’d tell the media what time Penguins players — usually around a dozen — would be working out. One time, in a particularly endearing moment, players canceled the next day’s workout. So, Crosby called me and asked me to tell the rest of the media not to show up. It was a very strange time for hockey and especially for Crosby, who had just lost 100 games in his prime due to a concussion. Now, he was missing more time in his prime because of a lockout.

Also because of the lockout, Crosby had plenty of time for introspection along with his hockey player and media relations duties. He had time to pay close attention to the rest of the hockey world, too, a privilege he typically isn’t afforded in October.

Two hours north of Pittsburgh, a 15-year-old sensation had arrived in Erie, Pa. — Connor McDavid was taking the Ontario Hockey League by storm. I had decided to travel to Erie with Penguins broadcaster Paul Steigerwald on Saturday, the night of McDavid’s second home game, when the Erie Otters were taking on the London Knights.

On the game’s first shift, McDavid split defensemen Olli Määttä and Scott Harrington and then scored to finish off a highlight reel goal.

Dan Bylsma, then coaching the Penguins, was there. Following the game, he chewed out Määttä and Harrington, a couple of Penguins draft picks, for allowing that goal on the game’s first shift. After seeing the interaction, I joked to Bylsma, something along the lines of, “I don’t know, that McDavid kid is kinda good.”

Bylsma looked at me and said: “He’s 15. They shouldn’t be getting split like that.”

I relayed this story to Crosby, who asked if Bylsma really said that. Then he took my side.

“Doesn’t matter how old he is. He’s different,” Crosby said.

Oh?

Crosby always politely answers questions about players, but he doesn’t typically go out of his way like that.

Then it occurred to me that Erie Otters games aren’t televised in Pittsburgh. I had assumed that Crosby had never seen McDavid play.

“Got some time on my hands these days,” Crosby said with a smile. “I’ve seen him. I’ve seen highlights of him.”

The greatest player in the world is checking out YouTube highlights of a 15-year-old hockey player?

“Yep,” Crosby said.

Then he said something I’ll never forget. Sensing that he saw something in McDavid that was different, I asked him if McDavid reminded him of anyone. In a non-arrogant way, Crosby quietly said, “He reminds me of me.”

Make no mistake, he admired all of the players who were compared to him. He once told me that, if he could shoot the puck like Alex Ovechkin, he wouldn’t pass as much as he does. I once saw him shake his head when he watched Patrick Kane stickhandle around an opponent on TV.

But he never anointed other players, even if he would marvel.

With McDavid, stylistically, Crosby saw himself. And he saw talent that was out of this world.

Crosby didn’t feel threatened. He understood that someone else always comes along.

from the athletic

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #connor mcdavid #edmonton oilers

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firelilyfox · 8 months ago

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Crush

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: None / just fluff

You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you

This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)

comments/reblogs are appreciated :]

If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!

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The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.

Only he was there. Paul Arteides.

The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.

You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.

But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.

„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.

Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“

You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“

He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“

„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.

„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“

You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“

A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“

„I liked it.“

His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“

„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“

He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.

Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?

You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“

A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“

„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.

„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.

You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.

„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“

„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.

„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“

„Sometimes?“ You asked.

„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“

You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.

A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.

Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“

„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune part two #dune movie #dune part one #fluff #paul atreides fluff #dune fluff #timothée chalamet #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you

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hisbuni · 4 months ago

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𓂃 to fit in ˖ ݁ patrick bateman ⊹ dark, sfw content.

you were better than jean. your skirt fit perfectly, well organized, always on time, never spoken unless spoken to, but you were paul allen’s assistant.

c. readers skin is described as smooth n is called pumpkin twice. jean slander but i still love her.

patrick was disgusted by most things: people who felt they were better than him, women who weren’t slutty and didn’t know how to shut their mouths, anyone below him… the list could go on. but, you weren’t one of them. when he looked at you his sanity always began to slip. especially when you were speaking with your boss, paul allen. paul had a lot of things patrick wanted, and you were the number one thing.

your skirt always an appropriate length, heels arching your feet, pen and paper in hand readying for whatever paul needed, your shirts dipping just enough to see the swell of your breast, skin smooth, hair styled and you never spoke much unless you were spoken to.

you would look perfect on his arm- you would make him fit in perfectly. besides, replacing jean wouldn’t mean anything to him, she was a mess; her outfit never being what patrick wanted, her scheduling process always a slow, she never caught on to his jokes, and she was always questioning him. he was simply never satisfied with her. he wanted to be satisfied.

unlike what he was feeling now, as he sat mindlessly at the conference room table. it was full with business men unlike any other day but that was because of paul’s presence. conversation had been going around for a while, none of their conversations ever peaking his interest. “so how’s the fisher account?” bryce questions, fixing his suit against his body as he sits upright, in front of bateman. “fantastic as always,” his smile small as he speaks, “i’d tell you how i got it but i’d have to kill you.” everyone listening laughs, it annoys patrick, so he simply lets out a stiff chuckle, smiles and nods profusely. he even goes as far to comment quietly, “hilarious.”

as the laughing quiets down, the light sound of heels hitting the carpet floor gains patrick’s attention and some others. you’d already made it halfway across the room before any of them noticed. once you’d made it to the end of the table on patrick’s side where paul sat, you give the table a small smile. “sorry for interrupting,” you fix your eyes onto paul, “your reminder for your meeting at 1.”

paul glances at his watch, before looking up at you, pointing a finger at you in recognition, with a small smile and nod, “thank you.” patrick face is stern, eyes giving away the greed he feels when looking at you. they’re almost low as if he’s on cannabis, lips slightly parted at the looks of your wet ones. not noticing his gaze, you don’t hesitate to nod back to paul, and make your way towards the door, eyes of all colors following you until you can’t be seen. a light whistle sound comes from a couple men around the table, one of them being van patten. “mother of god, how’d you get her?” he speaks, leaning back in his chair a bit.

“who?” paul almost looks clueless for a minute, but the smile that cracks on his face gives him away. his coworkers still push the question. “seriously,” bryce insists, eager for the answer. “i’d definitely bang that,” mcdermott comments with a nod, and everyone follows shortly behind in agreement. “she’s marvelous,” luis comments, to the left side of patrick— while he sits annoyed for the second time since sitting down at the table.

after the conference “meeting” everyone went about their day of work, patrick’s being not very pleasant because of the lingering anger he felt about you not sharing him a glance in the conference room. so angry that he found himself hating the show he watching and began to be heavy annoyed by jean’s presence. the greed, lead him to your small office outside of paul allen’s office.

“do you need something, mr. bateman?” you call, from your desk, eyes watching him closely as he stands in your doorway. “call me patrick,” he says, giving a smile as he walks further in. “patrick…” you let the room run quiet for a second to looking down at paul’s schedule on your desk, “do you need to schedule something with-” he’s quick to interrupt. “no.” his tone is stern and irritated, but he lets out breath to calm himself. “dinner. the two of us,” he tells plainly.

you’re taken back by the sudden offer, and you almost let out a chuckle but you don’t. only cracking a small apologetic smile, “can’t. i have a boyfriend.” it was a lie, of course. you had to admit you found patrick quite attractive despite his indifference to the rest of the men in the office who have tried to either get your number or take you home. you could never really put your finger on why though.

“come on, pumpkin. you can do better than that,” he says, not being deceived by the known lie. you don’t comment on him catching you. “pumpkin? never thought i’d have a nickname like that.” you smile enduringly at the name he’d given you in this short time. ignoring your comment, he asks, “how about dorsia?”

you search his face to see if he’s joking, but he stands, waiting for your answer. “sure,” you smile giving him what he’s been waiting on. “paul saying their sea urchin ceviche is great. i’m excited to try it,” you comment, playfully, and patrick gives you a light chuckle. the mention of his name slight irritates him but shakes it off. “right. friday, i’ll pick you up.” he doesn’t care for a reply and turns to leave. his mind too busy worry about how he was going to get the reservation, but he’d kill for it, if he had to, just to have you.

#. ( patrick bateman )#american psycho imagine #american psycho x reader #american psycho #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #୧ nova

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qvrcll · 7 months ago

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Warnings: mentions of political marriages, strangers > friends > lovers, kissing near towards the end, mentat at mind, lover boy at heart

The ordeal is simple — at-least on paper. You and Paul are meant to be wed on the single promise of a shared goal between the two of your houses, which come down to one thing and one thing only: security. Wealth, power and standing do not surmount to what, in Leto’s words, the Emperor has planned for the futility of house Atreides. He knows, Thufir knows, everyone knows, that Arrakis wasn’t branded to be some sweetly wrapped gift that fell into his lap when the time came to reward the duke. No - matters of this sort were much too systematic, especially at a scale such as this. Something must be done, to solidify the house of Atreides upon the rain-swept expanse of Caladan. Something to bind the Atreides to their mother planet long enough, so there might not be strife or conflict that sharpens whatever blade is held against them. So, wed Paul you must.

Simple doesn’t translate so easily against the obscurity that is the real world.

In the real world, the two of you are mere strangers. The only thing that binds the two of you is the responsibility bourne from the insignias that you wear, that are soon to culminate as two adjoining houses; whilst his happen to be two thick lines of silver against his collar, yours take on a different shape, a strange alterity between curves and striking lines, and shot through with gold against the sleeve of your garments. There is it — the mere tellings of your differences, as pure as day. He wonders how the symbols will look like, meshed together and serving as one. He wonders how he will appear next to you - frail boy or able man?

Half of the time, you catch his eye simply because you are there, sitting duly next to your father and ascertaining the weight of such a marriage past paper, when all is said and done. Other times, you are a blurring fragment in the hallways, swathed in your house’s colours and too fleeting to get a hold on, sometimes even flanked by your house’s livery. Mere strangers, he reminds the indiscernible feeling in his chest.

“Where is your head at? Focus!” Gurney growls out, more harsh tempered than his usual mood, as he crouches and takes Paul’s fair strike for what it was - a clean swipe that was meant for his chest, which now deflects smoothly off of the older, more haggard man’s shield, and sets the room abuzz with vibrations. And so the smell of ozone worsens, Paul calculates in his head, as he shakes his head thoroughly and shifts his grip on his weapon. Gurney isn’t impressed — not in the way he usually is. Paul knows he must answer.

“This is me focusing,” Paul offers, and doesn’t grit his teeth or possess a sudden candour with his strikes because he respects Gurney. But he cannot help the mood that has blanched him - voids, how he wishes he could confess those words, verbatim, to the older man who currently encircles his passes like a seasoned ring-fighter. But the word ‘mood’ had gotten him in line last week, when Gurney had simply upped his antics with the mere mention of it, “I’m just out of breath.”

“No, you’re not.” Gurney smiles, clenching his palm around the ragged hilt of the Kindjal. He knows, Paul thinks bitterly.

“No, I’m not.” Paul confesses. He tests a low swoop of his dagger - ill-advised - and reigns his laugh in when it catches Gurney off his feet, his back staggering against the training table.

Let’s see how you like this, lad, Gurney formalises in his mind, as he presses his defence like a bull and keeps his attacks slow and pulsing through the air, blinding all of Paul’s spots, “Is it the marriage?”

Cornered for tactics, and focusing mostly on not getting cleaved to pieces during training, Paul scoffs, “Of course it’s the marriage.”

“You’re scared.”

At this, Paul counters metal with metal, bounding back when it rings against his ears, rings against the room, “I’m not scared. I’m prepared to fulfil my duty, even if I am given options,” a dull parry, which still creates momentum, and thus space, between the two men, “I’m only uneasy because I’ve never actually met her.”

“You have. Several times. Or have you been asleep throughout your father’s meetings?”

Paul stresses a firm strike against Gurney, which repels off of his own shield by how close the dagger strikes the space between them. But he’s good at catching himself. Gurney, unused to Paul’s strange and newly learnt manoeuvres, falls short. He tries to counter, but cannot, but he is most impressed for it.

“Concede.” Paul breathes, low and attempting a threatening veil, as Gurney’s back meets the floor. The old man grunts, before nodding deftly as Paul hauls him to his feet with one palm alone. They settle in different corners of the room, silence beseeching both of them suddenly - they’re not two men for silence, but in Gurney’s head, Paul is undergoing a strange part of his life. He wonders if Paul fears it in the night.

Paul interjects Gurney’s thoughts.

“Do you - have you… met her?” his voice is meek. Uncharacteristic. Gurney smirks.

“Once or twice, in the hallways.”

“And? How is she?”

Gurney laughs. The boy is eager today.

The next time I see her, I will speak, he promises.

Better said than done. With no similar companions his age - a course of action being the very result of his heritage, his mother reminds him - he truly doesn’t know how to properly seek you out. You are more shadow than friend, more idea than person, and the more he sees you, the more he forgets.

“Something on your mind?” Duncan nudges him with the edge of some Fremen equipment, that bothers him well enough to dredge out Paul’s concerns. Not that he needs to. It is written on his face.

“Yes,” Paul confesses, readjusting for comfort, “It’s about my marriage.”

“You speak as though you will marry tomorrow. It is not set it stone. Not yet.”

Paul scoffs, “I know that. I just haven’t met her yet. And I want to.”

Duncan, in the midst of polishing some hardware and solar devices, that smell quite faintly of hot sand and the sun, pauses to glance away from Paul’s face. When his gaze returns, it is almost teasing, a smirk ripping across his face, “You’re in luck today.”

“What?” Paul swivels and —

Oh. Oh.

You’re standing there. Hands clasped behind your back, yes. Stoic, assessing expression, yes. Clothed in rich colours of your house, as you always are in his passing vision - only this time, it is a green so deep that it comes across as black. Suddenly, realising that you have been found out by not only Duncan Idaho, but by the Duke’s son himself, you uncharacteristically let slip your own embarrassment through wide eyes.

“Oh. My apologies — I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious by the - er - gadgets.” you fumble for words at a rate that would be comical if not for the morbid embarrassment seizing you by the seconds. You’re shaking your head politely, smile strained and legs rooted where they are and ready to melt into the various corridors - back to your own duties, you assume. Away from company. Paul, however, stands linearly and full of purpose, face constructed of hard lines that all smile at you.

“No, please. Join us,” his voice is smooth - you’ve never heard him talk, even around those board room meetings - and his hand is extended to gesture within the space, “I insist.”

Duncan raises a brow in amusement and Paul wants to tamp his feet down with a neat blow. That pulls a chortle out of the man, which only further startles you. Paul invites you cordially to take a seat, where you fit awkwardly, like you were truly imposing. However, in a manner of minutes, that is all erased when Duncan lets the two of you weigh the objects in your hand – sand compactor, weapons, stinted devices that were far too aged to be still of use but gathering attention nonetheless. When Paul passes it to you, he feels your soft fingers pass underneath his own, where a warm feeling curdles as an afterthought.

“This—is a sand compactor?” you ask warily, tilting the device as though it would spring up on you and dissolve to bits. Duncan barks out a laugh.

“For sand compacting, yes.” he humours you. You, however, are too lost on the object, still swirling it around in your palms; eyes peeled downwards.

“Yes. I see.” you reply.

The two men dissolve into a fit of laughter. You look up, eyes helplessly trailing from one to the next. The day is easy.

Paul is thankful for the event, and so are you. It doesn’t solve all his problems, and his head is always probing with inquiries and worries, but he can count on the off chance of seeing you in the hallways. He can count on the fact that you will pause, meet his eyes and smile.

You’re walking the countless hallways of the estate - Caladan had so much water to offer, but no one on your native planet ever mentioned the striking architecture, the hollowed out walls and think-pieces painted across rooms. High domed ceilings, with absolutely nothing to offer but soft light. Some rooms contained scintillating glass, chairs of different shapes and mediums, tables too big for just a few affairs. Others were bound shut, but that didn’t discourage nor intimidate you, nor your entourage.

On one such day, you’re caught in your explorations by none other than the Atreides heir.

In actuality, it is you who catches him first, stood perfectly still at the end of the corridor and holding a terse expression. When he spots you, his shoulders relax and he manages to blink once, before his mouth opens underneath the realisation that you were really here.

“Hello.” his voice is strong, and carries well.

That was awkward. This is always awkward. He curses himself.

You smile, and it swipes at the ground beneath his feet, “I didn’t expect to see you here.

“This is my residence, yes?” more jest than anything else. You snort.

“I am aware. Your residence is quite beautiful. I like to wander,” you say, finding yourself fixing a meandering pace beside him, and he smiles softly when he realises that he, too, steps beside you at a similar speed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Never.”

It is quick work after that – by pure coincidence, that you joke to Paul that is it is methodical instincts and ground-work as a mentat that he is able to summon himself almost anywhere you are present from that point onwards, you two bump into each other more and more in the corridors, and from there, it extends to the rather large library, the training space with Gurney skirting its edges, the ever-blossoming gardens even, which held more water than shrubbery in retrospect. Meetings pertaining to your marriage held an element of amusement now, as Paul actually tries to catch your eye this time, drumming his lithe and smooth fingers against the table in a way that could’ve passed off as a wandering of his mind as his father droned on about security measures and fuel caps, but you notice.

You hadn’t, not before, but you did now. To his pleasure, you even respond in a tiny flickering of fingers against the age-old meeting table, the vibrations a blur against his obvious contentment.

“You look glad.” Gurney comments and Paul realises how uninvolved his attention had been on the room before him. He quickly assesses it and whatever lays within it; table, check. Light source, check. Scratchy walls, check. Gurney’s ever-gracing height, check.

When had his habits, trained and chained to duty, begun to sweep towards you?

“Do I?” Paul asks, keeping his voice as still as he can manage. He had swiped at his face to rid the itch off his brow, but he unwittingly catches how warm he is. Not uncomfortable, no. But enough to leave a mark on his consciousness. It was like he was simply losing grip on his own composure when he thought of… something. It was still fleeting in his own mind.

He is too afraid to retrace his steps and find a familiar pair of eyes staring at him in the recesses of it.

Gurney slaps a hand on Paul’s shoulder, seemingly articulate with the latter’s feelings. Old man, Paul would curse out in jest, but he merely smiles. It is strained, and strange. Paul never puts an effort into his smiles, Gurney notes.

“Something is on your mind.” Gurney clicks his tongue.

Paul blinks, swallows, “Something is on my mind.”

“Out with it.”

Paul hesitates, which is strange, because in all his fights he is the first to stoke the flame. He isn’t vengeful – at-least, he doesn’t think he is – that’s why his strikes lack a hunger for blood and instead, settle for calculation. Briefness. No means to an end just yet. Or ever, he thinks.

But with you, it’s different. That’s what he spits out, what he lets Gurney work with. How you were a supposed intrusion into his life – something he had assumed would be awkward, like a stab wound that had scabbed over and began to weakly throb in pain, always to remind itself of its own compromise to work around demise. He thought you would be that; but upon meeting you, you were anything but that. You were curious and brilliant in your own way – similar to him, yet miles apart so that you were the form of a friend he had always wished for in his youth. You talked about your interests and spent double your time inquiring about his. When your hands brushed, his own grew clammy – that’s the strangest one of them all, Gurney – And something was blossoming – was it friendship? Was it trust? Was it fear?

What was this spattering and gooey mess slipping over the swell of his heart whenever you appeared? What was it?

He talks and talks and talks until Gurney squeezes his palm over Paul’s shoulder in a way an uncle would do to his nephew who he might want to reassure. Or a brother would to his youngest companion, as if to say: I see you. I hear what you say.

“Sounds to me like there’s an awful lot of trust between the two of you,” Gurney clicks his tongue again, only this time, Paul scoffs. Ah, there he is – there is the Paul Atreides I know, Gurney smiles, “And something else too.”

“What is it?” Paul asks. His eyes are curious, brows furrowed. Gurney holds down the laugh building in his chest, and the emboldened words in red: you’re falling in love with this friend of yours, boy, and instead, pats him on the shoulder.

“Piece of advice, if you’ll heed to anything I say,” Paul straightens with attention, “Let the truth flow. Do not stop it. Do not push it back. To live with the truth, you must learn its ways and be one with it.”

That night, Paul walks back to his room with the truth beneath his skin, and listens to his own heartbeat against his pillow. The rest of him warms with the realisation of, oh, oh, oh.

The next time you see Paul, you think you’d done something to offend him. Or bore him. Or something other.

It had become a pleasant habit; meeting him at the Caladan gardens, opting for a spot and sitting with your backs to the grass, counting the stars as you talked. Before, conversation had tipped forth whenever. Now, there was something in the air – tension. And it is him that brings it.

Paul avoids your eyes, settling instead for the vast colouring of grey across the hallway walls whenever he caught you in it. He had stopped sending you the familiar drumming of his fingertips across the meeting table, and instead always froze up when you met his gaze, whereby he turned red with anger – or was it anger? What was it?

He’d always be staring at your face, and you would wonder if there was a piece of parchment stuck to it, or if he was merely bored around you; most days, you allowed it. It stung, yes, but you had nothing ill to hold against him. But it accumulated, unbeknownst to you, and for him to miss your question yet again made you sigh in defeat – disappointment?

“You seem distracted,” you say, not bothering to shield the hurt in your words, though you couldn’t begin to understand why and when you had ever begun to crave expect the attention of his earthen-dusted eyes, “Am I boring you?”

He straightens up, his eyes wide, which in turn surprises you, “Bored? Seven hells, no. ‘Course not.”

“What did I just ask then?”

He cringes, “I promise I’m not bored. Just…”

His fingers flex in his lap, before curling into themselves, and his cheeks warm slightly. Is it happening now? Is he doing it now? The weather was right; a typical Caladan breeze, heavy with the wetting of the sky from the day, and now shrouded with clouds and a darkness that was impenetrable. Even as the two of you laid against the bare grass, no one outside could tell either of you apart from the ground itself. In the moonlight, you were almost one with it.

“Just?” you ask. You were curious of this now, “Just what?”

“Just!” he sucks in a harsh breath, his sharp face now boyishly soft and pliant in a way you hadn’t seen it before, “I… Just promise you won’t take offence to this.”

How ironic.

“I promise, Paul,” you smile, shoulder bumping against his as you glance at the side of his face, the way his nose shapes perfectly against the dampness of the Calandan wind, “Tell me.”

Be one with it. Be one with it. It is a mantra in his head.

“I realise that I have begun to grow a certain, uh, affection for you. Yes, I like you. I don’t know how it had begun. And I know it’s foolish of me to even act this way when we are set to marry. But I know, in my heart, that—“ a breath, as he nervously glances at your now surprised face and oh, he shuts his mouth. He opens it again, panicked, “My apologies. I shouldn’t have—let me—”

“Paul.” you stop him, hands against his one arm that seems to be quivering ever so slightly – how much of it can he hold?

He waits. Bated breath.

You smile, shy and sweet and it whips against him in a way that the wind of his mother planet had never managed to. Here is my dear friend, he thinks, my dear friend who was but a stranger a long time ago and is set to marry me once talks have been concluded. Here is my friend who I have poured my stupid, ill heart to and who still looks at me with kindness.

“I like you too.”

He blinks. He looks at you when you speak and watches, really watches, how your mouth forms against the words. I like you too.

“As a companion? Or friend, at best? Is that what your ‘like’ refers to?” he asks, nervous in the face of your admission. It makes you smile, as he rambles slightly, and though his countenance is that of poise and grace, beneath he is a a boy of tender heart. Smiling, you grab the front of his thick coat lapel and watch his words die on his tongue as you place a feathery, warm and soft kiss against his mouth. It was so unbelievable, he thought he’d conjured it all up – that you weren’t here, timidly kissing him with a sheepish smile on your face, and the stars of his home glinting against your skin. He lets his finger brush your cheek, still dumb-struck.

“Again.” he whispers. His heart hammers at the sound of your breathy laugh, as you repeat the action, conviction in your palms as they lay upon his cheek, “Again, please.”

“Again?” you ask, voice soft and muted as he hoists you atop of his front, chest to chest, and gazing at him like he was everything. Within the action, your golden insignia brushes his own, silver ones so briefly that he can make out a shape bourne from the contact of either two, before they separate. You wanted him, as he wanted you. And soon, you would wed, and the image of gold upon silver won’t be so unclear anymore. Maybe, somewhere warmer and less unbelievable, he could let himself grow familiar with the reality of you. But for now, he could settle for this to be a mere dream he had grown to relish so very much. Even now, he could almost believe none of this to be real, just a trick of the mind. Maybe fatigue or delusion.

He says your name so quietly, a plea, and it has never sounded sweeter, “Please.”

And yet, the soft press of your mouth upon his convinces him that it is so much more.

i wanted to incorporate some inferences of paul’s character from the early novel (mentat, solitude in terms of companions, great fighter), as well as the film, whilst wanting to stray away from the destruction of house atreides after the gifting of arrakis, which would explain why the marriage needs to take place. sooo no one dies! HURRAH!!!!!!!!! enjoy :]

#paul x you #dune paul x you #paul atreides fic #paul atreides x you #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x y/n #dune x you #dune x reader #dune part two x reader

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kxnkprxncess · 4 months ago

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Edging myself to the thought of my Husband training me to be a perfect housewife. I cook, I clean, I bend over on command, I swallow. I had been so dumb before I met Him. I could barely cook eggs. I was awful with money- I fell for the rent scheme, paying money to live alone when I could live with a good Man for free. The apartment I lived in wasn’t even clean. I had thought having a job was more important than keeping a home. My Husband saved me, taking me in and buying me cooking classes, managing my finances, and showing me that my cluttered apartment meant a cluttered mind, a clear home meant a clear mind.

He begins showing His friends how good a wife I am. Inviting them over for the game and having me keep their laps warm while they used my tits as stress balls. When His team wins they get to fuck me to celebrate, and when His team loses they take their anger out on me.

One of His friend’s begins coming over more often. I start expecting him almost nightly when preparing dinner and soon even for dessert where I now start sucking them both of. First separately, then together.

The first time I see my Husband kiss him my jaw drops open and their cocks fall out of my mouth. My Husband slaps me across the face saying He didn’t tell me to stop. They cum at the same time and I choke on their huge loads.

My Husband has me clean up and sit down at the kitchen table. He tells me that I’m such a good wife I deserve two Men in my life. And since I’m only a woman, He needs someone in the home he can actually relate to, especially when the children come around.

This shocks me. We had been against having kids before I became a housewife, so much so my Husband had a vasectomy. Now, after learning the error of my ways, I constantly feel barren and useless. He looks to my new husband with a smile. We’re gonna make you a mama, he says. I cry with joy. Can we start now?

My Husband has me get down on my hands and knees and pull my dress up. He positions Paul behind me, fingering my baby hole to get me wet for my new husband. I’m positioned in front of a mirror and I watch Him get behind Paul. He fucks himself into Paul while Paul fucks into me. The idea of my Husband pumping a baby in me makes me wet and Paul whispers in my ear, I’m going to fuck you full of dozens of children. You’re going to be such a good mommy to me and His kids. You’re going to get so big you won’t fit in clothes and your tits will be so heavy and painful with milk he’ll stop taking you out in public. You’ll be used just for breeding and feeding our children.

He cums inside me but my Husband hadn’t finished yet so he is forced to ride out his orgasm still being fucked into me.

I become a house slave for my two husbands and they breed me daily so I will be pregnant and finally useful every chance I get.

#degrade and humiliate me #men are superior #misogny kink #patriarchy kink #objectify me #cnc k!nk #housewife kink #dumbification

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jpnriikicore · 3 months ago

Note

heyy could i request a paul aron boyfriend headcanons? i feel paul nation is in need of some cheering up😭

paring paul aron x reader, word count 356, genre fluff, authors note sorry, for not releasing this faster <3 ( masterlist )

001, porsches.

paul would drive you around estonia in an black porsche 911 listening to les madeleines by andrea vanzo speaking about how johannes erm got second after european champions decathlon.

002, vacations.

he takes you on vacation with his friends and siblings especially the one’s in italy. traveling around italy on vespa’s to dinner dates. he always manages to encourages you to jump off cliffs with him despite your initial fear.

003, boat dates.

you take the boat out on the waters every time you can. he always jumps into the waters as you lounge around on the white seats on the boat watching him fondly resurface. he ends up slashing you or pretends to climb back onto the boat to dry off, but ends up wrapping his arm around your waist drawing you into the water instead.

004, traveling to estonia ( headconnon ).

you travel back to estonia with him. though it’s a lot of traveling back and forth you wouldn’t have it any other way. in his home he gets to relax a little away from all the pressures of racing.

005, traveling to estonia ( imagine ).

you asleep on the flight to estonia head leaned againist the seat with a mask over your eyes. your mouth agape as you breathe soundly. his heart warms at the sight with a smile on his face. he squeezes your intertwined hands. OH, he’s definitely the type to attempt to put the movies on at the same exact time on planes.

006, supporting estonia.

if not estonian you act like as if it is your own country. always supporting the country when it comes to such things like the olympics.

007, anniversary.

for an anniversary at an fancy restaurant he gifted a necklace with his initials on it. you’ve never taken it off since he clasped it on you.

008, race days.

in the garage nervously picking at your nails with his brother by your side. paul’s jacket draped on your shoulders as you watch. his race seems to be going well for him. you refuse to celebrate for him to early on in order to jinxes him.

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prettypinkporkchop · 2 months ago

Note

How would Paul react to his wife being known as a milf😭 jealous or proud

A MILFFFF!!!! Okay, so imma say in this story, you've had a child, right? You've got a very hot mom bod and then and then and then and then uhhhh you're also a tiny bit older than Paul. HERE WE GO!

You lean down to grab your toddlers sippy cup. When you are just about to ask her what she wants to drink, there's a loud and stinging pop on your ass.

"Paul!" You cry out.

He starts laughing and you stand up, threatening to throw the cup at him.

"Do it! Do it!" Embry cheers.

"I'm about to." You sigh, rolling your eyes. You look down at your smiling daughter, who has Paul's eyes. "Baby, what do you want to drink?"

"Juice!" She claps.

You walk into Emily's kitchen. Sam is standing there, scrolling on his phone.

"I drank all of the juice." Sam says, nonchalantly.

You lay your head on the cold fridge door and close your eyes. "Paul!" You call out.

"Coming!" He stands out of his chair.

Sam starts chuckling. "I'm just playing."

You groan and then open the fridge.

After you finish making her drink, you walk to the table and sit on Paul's lap. His hand grips on your thigh and the other goes around your waist.

"Mm, hey, beautiful." He winks at you.

"MORE LIKE MILF!" Embry yells.

Paul nods his head in agreement. "That's very true. She's my milf." Then he turns to Embry, glaring daggers into him. "Let me repeat, MY milf." He growls.

Embry raises his hands in defense. "I mean, everyone calls her that. All of the pack and imprints. ESPECIALLY Brady and Collin."

Jared shoves Embry. "Shut up! We can't let them know she's Kim's milf."

Paul sighs and squeezes the side of your ass that hangs off his thigh. "As long as we all know she's mine."

"Dad?" Paul looks down at your daughter, "what's a milf?"

Everyone bursts into laughter except you.

Emily walks in with the bag of groceries. "Haha... what's happening?"

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #sam uley #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader

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slaybestieslay946 · 8 months ago

Text

Stay

pairing: paul atreides x reader

word count: 2000

warnings: light angst with a happy ending

summary: you are the empress of the known universe alongside paul atreides, however, you dont agree with what hes doing, so you give him an ultimatum.

You had always loved the rain. Especially on Caladan. Yes, on your home planet it had rained fairly frequently, but it wasn’t the same. The rain on Caladan came down by the bucket full, not measly little drops. Each minute sheets of water fell from the sky like rolls of silver fabric.

The only thing that lulled you to sleep more effectively than rain on a window, was the slow, contented breathing of your husband beside you, and the slow movement of his fingers brushing against your waist. Every now and again he’d re-adjust his position to get even closer to you.

Usually he fell asleep before he was practically clinging to you, but tonight was not one of those occasions.

“Paul,” You laughed breathily, pushing away from him a bit in order to spin in his arms and face him.

He groaned in complaint as you moved away from him and opened his eyes blearily.

“Why’re you moving away…” He complained, trying to pull you back to him.

“Because you’re practically on top of me, I’m not a hot water bottle.” You chided, although the teasing smile on your face gave away your true feelings.

“No, you’re better.” He said, a sly smile on his face, “Now c’mere, I’m cold.”

You sighed, but did as he said, tugging his arm around you and lacing your fingers together.

You could feel Paul’s smile on the back of your neck as he found a way to hold you even closer.

“I love you.” He whispered, and you replied in kind, the smile that formed on your face certain to match the one he was currently wearing.

“Promise you’ll stay with me?”

“Mhm. I promise.”

Now, as you paced nervously around the hangar, you couldn’t help but think back to that promise you had made. At the time, you thought that nothing could tear you away from Paul Atreides, not the sun nor the stars.

Of course, you could never have planned for him becoming Emperor of the known universe. And you could have never known that it would be him tearing the both of you apart.

At first, when you had been planning your escape, you had hoped that the aircraft would arrive before your husband. That was before you remembered who your husband was now. He would notice you were gone almost immediately, so you had to plan for confrontation, not avoid it.

“What is this?” A voice came from the entrance to the hangar, echoing through the cavernous room and into your ears. He didn’t sound angry, merely confused.

You turned to face him and his expression was just what you thought it would be, torn between angry and distressed. In his hand, he held the note which you had written, telling him to meet you down here.

“I am leaving, Paul. For Caladan.” You said firmly, turning to face him.

He smiled weakly, shaking his head, “Why all the smoke and mirrors? If you wanted to return home you should have said so. I would have prepared a ship for us both-”

“Because I am not going with you.” You interrupted, your voice harsh.

“What do you mean? It is not exactly typical for the Empress to leave her husband days after the coronation.” He laughed, but it was not the melodic sound you had once loved, instead it was forced, choked even.

“Well, you are not the typical Emperor. I am leaving, and you will not follow me.” You stated, remaining firm, even as your heart threatened to betray your mind and run back to him.

Paul just stared at you, his face painted white in shock.

“Why?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Because I can no longer stay by your side and watch you become this. You are becoming someone I do not recognise.”

“My love, what are you talking about-?”

“I'm talking about this, Paul! Your holy war! You do remember that, don’t you? The war you swore to me you’d do anything to stop? And now, here you are, at its forefront.”

“I had no choice.” He said, his eyes hardening slightly.

“You always have a choice. You are their so-called ‘messiah’. Their emperor. They would fly into the sun if you asked them to. So ask them, stop this war before it consumes everything.”

“You know it is not that simple!” He shouted, and you couldn’t help but flinch slightly before rallying yourself.

“The man I married on Caladan would not have cared about simplicity. He would have cared about what was right, what was moral! He would never have entered this conflict, he would have laid down his life to prevent it! And I would have been right beside him.”

“This conflict was inevitable! I am doing my very best to minimise the damage, can’t you understand that?”

“I understand that you are still not doing enough.”

Paul looked at you, incredulously, anger filling his gaze, “Really? How can I do more when my own wife does not believe in me! You claim to support me, and yet now you are leaving me. My position is still weak, and you leave the only man you have ever claimed to love.”

“Your position! You are faced with the massacre of your people and all you can speak of is your position!?. Have you no soul left Paul? Did it melt away on Arrakis, scorched by the sun?”

Suddenly all the anger and venom drained from Paul’s face, and he found himself dropping to his knees, and begging you to stay.

“You are my soul. You have been all these years. You keep me balanced, you are my morality, my goodness. Everything I do is for you, my love, for your safety. I only care about my position for it is your position also, all the power I have acquired is only in the name of keeping you from harm.”

You looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes, that piercing blue that you had thought so beautiful when they finally changed. Now they were just a reminder of how much he had changed since coming to this awful place.

“I want to believe you. But you have always had such a way with words. I watched the way you deceived those people into following you, is that what you’re doing now?”

He rose to his feet again, taking your hands in his. His face was frantic with fear.

“I would never deceive you. I mean every word, I’ve felt this way my whole life. You are the most important thing to me. You know I would never lie to you.”

For the first time since the conversation began, you hesitated slightly. Could you believe him? Eventually, you landed on an answer.

“...I do. You would never lie to me on purpose. You are lying to yourself too Paul. You know that I have never wanted position, nor power, heavens, I have never even wanted safety! All I have ever wanted is you, wholly, truly, with no barriers-”

“And you have me!”

You reached up to splay your hand across his cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from his blue-blue eyes.

“No, I don’t have you. I have splinters of you, and I fear the rest is lost. You may bear the resemblance of the man I love, but you are not him.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out.

Suddenly there was the immense whirring of gears, and you knew your ship was here to take you to Caladan.

“I’m afraid we do not have much time, so listen to what I say,” He didn’t react, his face remaining desperate and heartbroken, but you continued anyway.

“If you finally realise what you have done, and you fix it, come to me on Caladan. But I don’t want to see the Muad’dib, or the ‘Messiah’, or the Kwisatz Haderach. The only man I wish to see is my husband, Paul Atreides. Remember that Paul.”

You gave him one last longing look before turning away from him, and making towards the ship that was emerging from the floor of the hangar.

“I’ll see you again?” He called, his voice cracking slightly as he stared after your retreating form in defeat.

“Hopefully so, my love, hopefully so.”

And with that, you stepped onto the outstretched platform of the ship, and shut the door behind you. Paul stayed in the hangar until the craft was gone, biting his tongue so as not to call out to you again and beg you to stay.

The message that the Emperor would be coming to visit you had come far sooner than you expected.

And you were disappointed in him. He was breaking your agreement, and so soon. It had only been a year, and to your knowledge there had been no change in the situation.

Perhaps he was coming to ask for a divorce, maybe he’d found someone else since you left. That would certainly be ironic, considering the way he had begged for you to stay on Arrakis.

However, you were incorrect, because only a few days later a messenger came to tell you that the jihad had ended.

Immediately you leapt out of your seat, clasping your hand over your mouth in shock. He had done it.

For the next few days, Castle Caladan was abuzz with preparations for the Emperor returning home. You oversaw said preparations with a watchful eye, and though you wouldn’t admit it, you were happier than you had been in years. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you had missed Paul terribly.

Yet, when his ship landed, you were nowhere to be found.

“Where is my wife?” Paul asked one of your ladies in waiting as he strode through the halls of his childhood home.

“My lord, she left on a walk to the cliffs this morning, and has not returned since. Would you like me to send someone to fetch her?”

The Emperor’s harsh expression softened slightly. “No, I’ll go.”

It didn’t take Paul long to work out where you had gone, and as he climbed one of the paths up to the cliffs, he was glad to see you sitting on one of the benches, clad in the green silks of house Atreides.

He called your name, and his voice cut through the gusting winds into your ear, and you turned to face him with a searching look on your face.

You stood, and couldn’t help but jog towards your husband, gathering your skirts so you didn’t trip and make a fool of yourself. However, you stopped short of running into his arms, opting to stand just in front of him so you could inspect his face properly.

“Is it you, Paul? Have you finally come back to me?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly.

“It’s me,” He whispered, reaching a hand out to touch you, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, what I was doing was wrong, and I know that now, and-!”

You cut off his rambling apology by surging forwards into his arms and kissing him fiercely. He immediately responded in kind, wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head in his hand, whilst you held onto the lapels of his coat as tightly as you could.

Despite the fact you wanted to stay like that forever, eventually the need for oxygen prevailed, and you broke away to take a deep breath in, laughing lightly at the sight of his flushed face.

He grinned at you, moving the hand that was on the back of our head back to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face.

“You missed me?” He asked, teasing, but his voice had a slight edge of concern to it.

“Yes. I missed you so much.” You said immediately, emphatically. Because you had missed Paul, it felt as if you hadn’t seen the real him for years, and the feeling of being reunited was almost too much for you to contain.

He let out a short sigh of relief, “I missed you too. But it’s ok, because I’ve fixed it all. They still think I’m their messiah, but I’m going to stop acting like it. And you were right, I was power hungry, and selfish, and I exploited so many people, and I betrayed you, and-”

“Enough, Paul.” You said, looking at him with so much care that he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Yes, you have made mistakes, but it wasn’t all your fault. And you’ve made a change now, you’re doing the right thing. And I’ll always be there for you. I had to leave to help you, but I knew we’d see each other again. And here we are, back home, just like old times.”

“You’re right.”

“I often am, my love.”

He wrapped his arms around you once again, “Will you stay with me, here?”

You nodded, “Mhm. I’ll stay for good this time.”

#fanfic #writing #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides x you #dune part two #dune movie #dune #dune part 2 #fluff #minor angst #established relationship #theyre so in love i hate them #arguing

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pha55ed · 3 months ago

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You and I | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type ::fluff tw/cw :: fem!reader for all :( contains :: kimi!, ollie, paul, pepe request :: you and i w kimi ollie paul & pepe plsss (literally my top 4 drivers LOLL im surprised by how many f2 requests there are) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Being one of the only girls in F2 meant that you were basically shipped with everyone on the grid, no matter if you ever talked to them. It was odd, but you expected all the ships to die down eventually, which most did. Except one ship: you and Kimi. It made sense, since you both are teammates after all.

Kimi doesn't know how to react to the shipping. Because on one hand, he knows it's inappropriate since you're teammates but on the other hand, he has a huge crush on you so he doesn't really mind it. So he's stuck in the middle, not sure what to do when asked anything about you.

When people ask him things like, "Have you seen the (Y/N) x Kimi fans?" or "Have you considered dating (Y/N)?" he just awkwardly laughs. Which is the worse option he could have done, since it just fueled the fanbase even more because he wasn't outright denying it.

But, he might have planned that: since he does love seeing all the edits of you two together :)

Ollie Bearman | 87

Since he's one of the most popular F2 drivers, he's already experienced being shipped with other people often. But usually he's shipped with boys, and he's comfortable with his sexuality to not get offended by the shipping since he knows he's not gay. The only issue now with being shipped with you is 1. you're a girl, 2. he does like you.

Whenever he's asked about you, he gets slightly flustered. It's clear to many that he might have a crush on you, but thanks to his delusional fan girls (I'm one of them) they spam Twitter and Instagram stating that you're just platonic soulmates with Ollie.

But Ollie is secretly basking in the ship edits of you and him. He doesn't want to be your platonic soulmate, he just wants to be your soulmate, period. Since he scrolls online so often to keep feeding his crush on you, he accidentally likes one of the ship edits.

This sends twitter into a meltdown, tons of moms and teen girls sobbing over Ollie basically confirming that he likes you. But thankfully, they gaslight themselves into thinking he thought it was a platonic edit. He knew damn well what he liked, but he's not allowed to say anything since it's a risk for PR and contracts - having two drivers date each other can get messy so fast. But he'd be ready to risk it all for you.

Paul Aron | 17

He's surprisingly bashful about the ships of you two, it's cute to watch him turn slightly pink in the ears and cheek at the mention of your ship name. Whenever he's asked about you, he can't help but try and lead the interviewer on - yet never give them a full answer of your relationship.

Your team won't allow you two to date, due to the high stakes and PR damage it would do. Especially since you're both so sought after - Paul being wanted by every girl, and you being wanted by every boy. But Paul didn't care for any girl besides you, you're all he wants and he's determined to get you. Most likely by dating under the table, hiding it from the world.

Whenever interviewers ask him things about his love life, he always hints that he has his eye on someone. Or whenever he's blantanlty asked about you, he can't help but smile a little and give a cheeky shrug, since he can't speak much on the matter.

As your teammate, he does try to flirt with you - but not in a douchebag way. Which is surprisingly, since his Instagram posts and friends scream frat-boy, he's different from them. He tries to take it slow with you, not wanting to scare you away by being seeming like a weirdo or asshole in any way.

Pepe Marti | 21

Being shipped with you made him happy and he's unable to hide that. He's naturally super smiley, so when he hears your name - it's almost as if you can see his tail wag at the mention of you. Just like a puppy, he has major puppy-love for you.

But he tries his best to not feed into the ships due to it going against the contracts and policies in place. His face just can't hide it though, he's grinning ear to ear when asked if he would ever date you. Only for him to reply, "Only if I got the chance to :)"

Basically: he makes your PR team work overtime to ensure the audience that you two are JUST friends. But it's hard to do when Pepe straight up tries to hold your hand in the paddock. Or when he posts on Instagram that you're visiting his family for dinner.

Thankfully, the PR are great at manipulating the public to believe you two are just friends - which you are technically,,, but you both know you're so much more than that.

#f1 #f2 #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #paul aron #paul aron x reader #pepe marti #pepe martí #pepe marti x reader #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader

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