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supernaturalistthings · 10 months ago

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Roadhouse

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18 contains smut

Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.

You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.

“We will figure this out” he finally says

He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.

“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say

“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.

“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.

“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.

The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.

The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.

“What is your issue?” You say snarkily

He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say

“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.

It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.

“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort

“I didn-”

“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.

Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is

“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.

He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says

“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.

The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.

You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.

You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.

His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.

“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.

“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.

“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.

“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.

“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.

“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.

He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”

“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.

You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess.

“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.

He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.

“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.

When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.

He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.

He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you.

You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.

“That was-”

“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.

“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck

“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.

“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.

You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way.

“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester moodboard #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x female!reader

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honeydewblogforwriting · 2 months ago

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The Wolff Pack (Mr. and Mrs. Wolff pt.2)

Warnings: innuendos, cursing, bad grammar, poorly translated German

Pt.1

Sunday (race day) :

Monday night:

Two weeks later

Y/N: Hello GQ. I'm Y/N YM/N Wolff

Toto: and I'm Toto Wolff

Y/N: you mean Torger Christian Wolff. We're using our government names today, babe. No nicknames.

Toto: y/n, please.

Y/N (giggling) : okay, okay. I'm sorry, you guys can cut that part out.

Y/N and Toto: and today we'll be doing the GQ's couple quiz to see how well we know each other.

Producer: who's going first?

Toto: Y/N is always first in my life so her.

Y/N: awww, he's trying to butter me up incase he gets anything wrong!

[Toto shakes his head]

Y/N: Okay first question. When did we first meet?

Toto: At the 2018 Austin GP

Y/N: ehhh wrong answer forehead!

Toto: schatz, I'm right. You were invited by Ferrari and you had on their merchandise and a beautiful red jacket and your hair was down. You were passing by Mercedes Hospitality and we smiled at each other and you gave me a tiny wave.

Y/N: babe... what? I- wait, its coming back to me now. What how did you remember that?

Toto: How could I forget? You looked absolutely radiant in that hideous ferrari red, a hard feat to pull off.

Y/N: (giggling) awww. Give him two points for this one. Okay, next question: what is my favourite look on you?

Toto: mein Geburtstagsanzug

[Subtitle: my birthday suit]

Y/N: benehmen

[Subtitle: behave]

Toto: okay, serious answer now. You love me in a good button down, pleated pants and my glasses.

Y/N: yes, I could literally eat you up when you wear that.

Toto: and you're telling me to behave?

Y/N: babe, you're worse than me but anyways! Next question, what is my go to soda order?

Toto: this has to be a trick question because you don't drink soda. You only indulge in green juices and smoothies. Your favourite is a kale, spinach and beet smoothie with almond milk and peanut butter.

Y/N: you're correct once again! He knows me so well guys. I know this was a few years ago but what was the song that i constantly sang after we got engaged? (laughing)

Toto: (shakes head while chuckling) It was so awful and unexpected that it's stuck with me and sometimes (unfortunately) plays in my head. It went something like, "put it on him make him wanna marry me." And you'd sing it while flaunting your ring and body rolling.

Y/N: yes, right on the nose! Okay, so what is my ideal type of man?

Toto: derjenige, der dich zur Mutter gemacht hat, meine Liebe

[Subtitle: the one who made you a mom, my love.]

Y/N: correct again! Babe, you're on fire! And every correct answer makes you hotter and hotter...Baby Nummer zwei könnte früher kommen als geplant

[Subtitle: baby number 2 might come sooner than we planned].

Toto: schatz, do not make jokes like that, you know what I want.

Y/N: I'm not joking.

[silence on set as the camera switches between y/n and Toto who are locked in intense eye contact]

[Producer behind the scene]: um guys

Y/N: oh sorry, um, next question- what was the first foreign language I learned in high school?

Toto: Spanish and then you did French and finally Portuguese but you're more inclined to Portuguese. You're currently learning German.

Y/N: correct, the perks of attending a private school. And, to those of you viewing at home, I'm learning German because Torger refuses to speak to baby girl in English! He swears that she has to know German just as fluently as English and I don't want to be left out so I'm indulging in it.

Y/N: Okay, final question- what is my favourite thing to do?

Toto: well, it's definitely trying new things. You love to try different hobbies, crafts, sports, business ventures, careers and it's admirable, you just go after what you want even if it's something you know nothing about. Also you love spending time with die Prinzessin .

Y/N: correct again, Torger Christian Wolff, you got everything right, now that is stinking cute.

[TOTO WOLFF QUIZZES Y/N WOLFF]

Toto: Okay, schatz, first question- when is my birthday?

Y/N: is this a trick question? Your birthday is January 12. You were born in 1972 in Vienna, Austria to a Middle class family and your education was focused towards finance and economics because of the family you grew up in.

Toto: (laughing) schatz, you might as well let the people know my blood type, that was a lot of details but all true. I'll give you 4 points for this. Okay, next question. What is my favourite snack?

Y/N: me of course!

Toto: you'd be my favourite meal, schatz

Y/N: oop, okay! Let me get serious though, your favourite snack is Kumpir with Sauerkraut Filling and Pumpernickel Crumble. You ate so much of it on our honeymoon that it made you sick. I'm surprised you still like it (giggling).

Toto: Where is my favourite place to be?

Y/N: okay I'm giving two answers for this one- first, it's anywhere that Prinzessin and I are and second, at home it used to be in our room but now it's Prinzessin's room. Torger would spend all day there if he could.

Toto: mhmm, I'm actually surprised that your answer was PG but correct again beautiful. Next question, what is my biggest priority?

Y/N: family, I know this might seem like a surprise to the viewers but you have never missed an anniversary, hospital visit, birthing class, date night, family reunion, birthday celebration or anything of the sort. I don't know how you do it but that it's so clear to see that your loved ones are your number priority .

Toto: How would I describe myself ? Like how do I view myself ?

Y/N: mhm this is tough, I think you consider yourself as someone who is constantly evolving whether that's in your personal life or your career. You're driven and goal oriented. You've got that aggressive streak that the Internet loves to make memes of but uh, yeah. How'd I do?

Toto: pretty spot on. It's like you know me better than I know myself. Okay, final question, what is the name of our sweet little angel ?

Y/N: yup, you heard that right, for the first time ever we will be revealing the name of our baby girl. We thought it would be perfect to announce it during something so fun and sweet. Anyways enough of the chit chat.

Y/N and Toto: (turns to look at each other, grabs each other hands) we'd like to formally introduce the world to Myah Sunshine Wolff!

Y/N: it was so nice being here and I'd like to thank GQ for inviting us onto their wonderful platform.

Toto: I hope you guys enjoy watching this as much as we enjoyed making this. Bye!

(Both of them wave until the screen goes black)

A few hours after the video is released :

#f1 x black!reader #f1 smau #black!reader #f1 x reader #toto wolff x black!reader #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula 1

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 months ago

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Day 27: afternoon stroll

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Warnings: moral dilemmas, age gap (r is 25 and Spencer is 40) a cocktail of feelings, relationship between ex-teacher and ex-student, and I think that's it!

Going grocery shopping was one of the most ordinary things you could do. There wasn’t much to it, so it wasn’t exactly an activity that brought you much excitement.

However, that day, it wasn't just a routine. You knew it when, at the end of the line in one of the checkout lanes, you recognized a tall man in a suit. It had been three years since you last saw your professor, and, to be honest, just the sight of him made your heart race just like it used to. I'd dare to say it was even more intense now.

You tried to keep your composure, and for a second, you wondered what you should do. You glanced down at yourself, grateful you’d decided to wear something decent that day: straight-cut black pants, a long-sleeved, lightweight white shirt over a black bra, intentionally chosen to show through a bit.

You hesitated, wondering if you should walk up and get in the same line he was in, or maybe choose the one next to his just to wave hello, or if it would be inappropriate to go up and hug him, or if…

Oh, no. He’d seen you. You couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement at the way his face lit up when he saw you or at the smile that spread across his lips, but there it was. He was just as handsome as before, maybe even more with the passing years. He looked gorgeous.

"Hey! It’s been so long!"

Your feet practically moved on their own toward him, still reeling from the whirlwind of feelings and passions you’d once harbored for your professor. You knew it was wrong, ethically and morally inappropriate, but you couldn’t help feeling what you felt.

"It really has been, Professor," you managed to respond.

You moved as if to initiate a hug, which he returned without hesitation, holding you around your waist with his free hand and pressing a gentlemanly kiss to your cheek. You felt like you could die from how red your face must’ve been.

"Please, don’t call me 'Professor.' It feels strange now," he smiled, amused. "I’m just Spencer."

"Alright then, Pro– Spencer," you corrected yourself. You savored his name on your lips and realized it felt just right.

"So, what have you been up to? Come, I’ll let you take my place in line," he offered.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll just get in line behind you.”

“I insist,” he said cordially. You could never say no to him; you never could.

You ended up giving in, feeling oddly cared for when he offered to help with what you were carrying. He was still every bit the gentleman, the kind you rarely encountered anymore.

“I’ve been well,” you replied, remembering he’d asked you a question. You were standing completely in front of him, not wanting to miss a second of looking at him. “I’m working at an accounting firm now. It’s not my dream job, but at least it’s stable and pays the bills. What about you? Are you still teaching, or did you go back to the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

“I went back to the unit,” he said, in that gentle voice you’d always adored hearing. “But I retired just a month ago.”

“Why?”

“A lot of things happened, and… I don’t know. I just felt it was time to take a break. They said the doors are always open for me, but I’m trying to live as peacefully as I can.”

“Well, that makes sense,” you encouraged him. “I’m glad to hear that; your health is the most important thing.”

There was something in Spencer’s expression you couldn’t quite read. Maybe it was just your love-struck mind imagining that he was looking at you with a mix of nostalgia, affection, and pride. His brown eyes shone in the sunlight, and it was enough to make you feel dizzy.

"Yes, but honestly, I’ve started feeling a bit restless with the inactivity. Next month, I might either pursue another PhD or find a job in my field that’s less demanding."

"Sometimes I forget you’re a genius," you murmured without thinking, your voice laced with pure admiration. "It’s so normal for you to take on a PhD as a hobby."

"Knowledge always opens doors. The more you know, the closer you get to finding the truth of who you are."

For a moment, you felt like you were back in one of his lectures and smiled shyly. He was such a mature man, with such a wealth of wisdom, that you could listen to him talk for hours about anything and never get bored.

Your gaze stayed locked on his for a few seconds, almost hypnotized, until the cashier called your attention to start ringing up your items.

Spencer studied your purchases carefully: a loaf of bread, a pack of cranberries, yogurt, some shampoo, and men’s deodorant. He thought about that last product. He had no doubt a woman could use such things, but it didn’t quite seem like your style. You smelled like something he identified as peonies and roses, so it didn’t make sense for you to choose a pine-scented deodorant.

It must be for a man. A man you were in a relationship with.

You paid. Then it was Spencer’s turn: a bag of coffee, honey, a package of walnuts, almonds, and dried fruit, a few pens, a notebook on sale, a jar of pain relievers, and a bottle of vitamins. Finally, there was a package of diapers for a newborn and a bib with the phrase: Snack now, think later.

Just as he had done with you, you analyzed the items, and, of course, that last one caught your attention.

He wasn’t buying those baby items just for fun, was he?

Your heart sank a bit as you understood what it implied: he’d just become a father.

“Thank you, miss. Have a nice day,” Spencer said, as polite as ever.

You stayed out of courtesy, watching him put his items in a plastic bag. Then he started to walk, and you followed.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye, huh?" you said. You didn’t want to sound hurt, but it came through. “It was nice seeing you, Spencer.”

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

That question left you in a dilemma. You looked at his left hand for a wedding ring, but there wasn’t one. The thought that your professor, whom you admired so much and had fallen in love with, might be the kind of man who took off his wedding ring to seduce young women disgusted you.

The sound of a phone interrupted the moment; it was his ringing.

“Hello?” he murmured. You hadn’t said goodbye, so you stayed in place. “I got Pampers, yes. I read that’s the best brand for newborns; they’re super absorbent and have a wetness indicator. And I found a really cute bib. Uh-huh, I’ll be there soon. Did you invite everyone? Great, I can’t wait to see them. See you, take care.”

Hearing his warm, affectionate tone made you feel envious; you wished you were the woman on the other end of the line.

“Your wife?” you asked.

“Wife? No, not at all,” he shook his head, almost offended. “That was my former unit chief; she just had a baby, and we agreed to meet up today with some friends.”

“Oh! For a… for a moment, I thought that was for your baby.”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “I haven’t had that good fortune yet.”

You’d never really wanted children, but at that moment, your insides turned completely at just the thought of him speaking to you with the same warmth he had with his coworker.

“Do you really need to hurry to that get-together? I mean, if you’re still planning to walk me home?”

“Not at all.”

“I take the metro from Station 17 to get there.”

“That’s funny! I’m going to the same station. We could walk there together and then go our separate ways.”

You eagerly agreed to the idea, and the two of you left the store. In the first block, you talked about general things. He noticed you’d dyed your hair, and you complimented his, which looked really good.

The tension between you two was palpable, and all you wanted to do was let out the feelings you’d kept hidden all this time. At first, you’d thought it was just a silly crush, mere admiration. But as time went on, it became harder to deny the obvious. You wanted to be his favorite; you wanted him to focus on you, so you’d done everything to be his best student.

Five years after meeting him, you knew for sure that what you felt was love. He was a bright light, and you were just a moth, desperate to get closer.

"It feels like it was just yesterday when I was running around campus, worried about exams, essays… but I never forgot your classes. You were always a different kind of professor. You didn’t just care about us understanding the material; you cared about how we thought. I’d never felt so listened to," you whispered, watching the leaves fall from the now-orange trees.

You were walking through an incredibly quiet neighborhood; it was almost just you and him.

"Well, you were a brilliant student. You always asked questions that made me think, and that doesn’t happen often."

Oh, that validation. It felt like an elixir running through your veins.

“Was it just my imagination, or was I your favorite student?”

“It wouldn’t be ethical to say.”

“I’m not your student anymore, so you can be completely honest with me.”

Spencer shifted slightly, as if mulling over your words. You were right; you weren’t his student anymore, and he needed to stop seeing you as such.

“I wouldn’t say there was favoritism, but I particularly enjoyed working with you. You were very dedicated, your work was always flawless, and you always asked how you could improve. I think it was just that you were the kind of student every professor dreams of having.”

“Oh, Doctor Reid, I’m blushing,” you joked, though you couldn’t help the flirty tone that slipped in. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d met under different circumstances. If I hadn’t been in college, as your student.”

It was a subtle but significant statement.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… you’re such an interesting person, and sometimes I wish I’d met you in a less formal setting. Maybe we could’ve been friends.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if weighing your words. His lips curved into a faint smile before his gaze turned more serious, as if allowing himself to be vulnerable, if only for a second.

“You know, I’m not sure we could’ve been just friends,” he confessed, his voice soft, almost a whisper that the wind could’ve carried away at any moment. “You were always more than just an outstanding student. You made me question things I thought I had all figured out.”

Your heart skipped a beat at those words. It was like he was finally opening that door both of you had kept closed for so long. The world around you seemed to fall silent, wrapping you in a bubble where only your gazes and the sound of your shallow breaths existed.

"Really?" you smiled, trying not to let on just how deeply his words affected you. “I always thought I was just another student to you, but… you always felt like someone special to me. Like… like everything I did only made sense because you were there, listening.”

Spencer laughed softly, a laugh that almost sounded nervous, as if he himself were processing his feelings.

"Maybe you see me as someone who has all the answers, but if you knew how many times I tried to avoid… what I was feeling."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, as if afraid to expose too much. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and everything around you spun.

“Sometimes I wondered if I was just imagining it.”

“No, you weren’t imagining it. It wasn’t easy for me. I knew I was crossing an emotional boundary, even though I never let it go further. There was an attraction, of course. But it was my responsibility to stay professional. I couldn’t fail you in that.”

The tension between you grew with every step you took. The street seemed to stretch endlessly as both of you searched for the right words to express what you really felt. Minutes passed, but the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, each second you shared without speaking seemed to fill the air with emotions that didn’t need explaining. And yet, deep down, you knew that time was running out. In the distance, you could already see the entrance to the metro station.

“You know, I never thought seeing you again after so long would affect me this much,” you said finally, not daring to look at him, as if admitting it in a low voice made you feel safer. He watched you with a mixture of tenderness and uncertainty.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d feel this way, either. I’d convinced myself that… that what I felt was simply admiration.”

His words made you stop, looking into his eyes with a surprised expression. It was a gesture that denoted an unusual transparency in him, as if he felt more vulnerable than he was willing to admit.

“Admiration?” you smiled, though you felt a pressure in your chest you could hardly bear. “And now? What do you feel now, Spencer?”

Spencer. He was no longer your professor; he was simply Spencer.

He lowered his gaze, searching for words he’d likely been repressing for years. The sound of his unsteady breathing was all you heard before he spoke again, in a voice low but clear.

“What I feel now… I don’t think there’s an easy word for it. But it’s something I thought I’d never have to confront.”

You were taken aback by that confession, but it filled you with such a wave of relief that it almost made you dizzy. You felt vulnerable, exposed, but also free. You decided it was time to stop measuring your words, to stop being afraid.

“Spencer, I… I fell in love with you when I was still in college. I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass. But I carried you in my mind, in my memories. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I graduated. And now I can’t deny that, even after all these years, I still love you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if processing everything you had just said. When he looked at you again, his eyes were like a deep ocean of emotions, and you couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had stopped around you.

“What about your boyfriend?”

You didn’t want to ask how he’d picked up on that. But in the end, denying it would’ve been useless.

“My life hasn’t turned out the way I expected. I’m in a relationship that doesn’t fulfill me, and when I compare it to what I felt with you, even though nothing happened, I realize how empty it feels now. It’s like… I don’t know, like I’m just settling.”

You were still standing on the sidewalk. The wind brushed softly against your ears.

“It’s hard when you realize what you have isn’t what you thought it would be. Comfort isn’t enough; you want something deeper, something meaningful. And sometimes, I feel just as lost. My career has been my life for so long that, even though I’m successful, there are moments when I wonder if I’ve missed out on something important. Something I may never have. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s too late.”

You felt like you were going to throw up. All you wanted was for it to end, for him to lean in and kiss you.

You took a step forward.

“There’s nothing between us now. I’m no longer your student.”

"I’ve thought about that. But it wasn’t just the fact that you were my student. The age gap also complicated things. I mean, I’m fifteen years older than you. I couldn’t ignore how inappropriate that would’ve been."

“Fifteen years… yeah, that’s quite a bit. But I don’t think that would’ve mattered so much if we hadn’t been in the situation we were in.”

“It’s not just that, sweetheart,” sweetheart. “You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, full of possibilities. I couldn’t allow myself… to interfere with that. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“You’re talking as if you’re condemning me to a life sentence. And it’s not like that.”

Spencer took a deep breath, holding eye contact for a moment before speaking honestly.

“Still, the age difference will always be there.”

“What are you worried about? What people might think?”

“It’s not just that, but how it would affect you in the long term. A fifteen-year age gap can be a chasm.”

“Maybe. But connections don’t always follow set rules. What I felt then was real. What I feel now is real, too. And I don’t think age changes that.”

Were you seriously confessing your love to this man on that street? After seeing him again for less than an hour? Were you really that desperate for him?

In theory, he had already confessed to you. And that was only proof of how much you both had longed for each other, despite the years that had passed.

In a bold move, you took another step toward him. Your hands reached up to his cheeks, and he felt like he was out of breath.

“You’re an extraordinary man, Spencer. You’re gentle, intelligent, you’re a gentleman, you’re… you’re like a dream. And any woman would be lucky to have you. But if you don’t want me to be that woman, I respect that.”

“Don’t do that,” he groaned. Your fingers felt like fire burning his skin. “Don’t make me say something that isn’t true.”

“Sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time. You want that family, you want to experience everything you missed out on. I want security, attention… I want you.”

He closed his eyes, defeated. A storm of emotions swirled within him.

“We need to take this slow; it’s… it’s a lot to process.”

You nodded and stepped back. For a moment, he thought he’d made a mistake, especially when he was met with the coldness of his skin now that you weren’t touching him. But a second later, you handed him your phone.

“Give me your number. After we’ve both had time to think about this, you’ll call me, and we’ll go out to dinner. If you’re not sure, we’ll just go our separate ways. If you are… we’ll decide what to do.”

It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command. There was no room for argument.

He typed in the digits, almost trembling with nerves, and felt ridiculous for showing himself so vulnerable in front of you. But you were breaking down every ethical boundary he believed he had; dating a former student… what kind of person did that make him?

However, as he returned your phone and looked at you, he realized that you were no longer a child. He was not taking advantage of you at all; you were an adult capable of making your own decisions. And you were choosing him. Above everyone else, he was the one you wanted.

You called, and Reid's barely modern phone vibrated in his pocket, signaling that he now had your number too. Spencer watched you with a mix of nostalgia and resolve, as if this were the last second before the world began to spin again and forced them back into their lives.

Finally, he sighed, lowering his gaze slightly, as if he wanted to hide a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he said quietly, with a sincerity that broke your heart. "I don’t know if it’s fair that, after so long, we reopen this door just to risk things not working out."

"We’ll never know if we don’t try," you whispered, trying to stay calm.

He nodded slowly, processing your words, and then, very slowly, took a step toward you, getting close enough for the murmur of his voice to be almost a whisper next to your ear.

"Okay," was all he managed to say. His eyes reflected the same longing and uncertainty that you felt inside.

You walked in silence to the station, and once there, there was no verbal goodbye. You simply moved closer to him, wrapped him in a hug, and he responded with a deep kiss on the cheek.

He went to the right. You went to the left.

Once you were seated on the subway, you felt your phone vibrate with a message.

Hi. I’m Spencer. Please keep in touch. I don’t want to miss you.

And all the way home, you smiled.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #professor!reid #professor x student #spencer reid professor

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vettelsvee · 6 months ago

Text

DON'T BELIEVE WHAT THEY SAY | Oscar Piastri

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary: reader is quite insecure about herself due to fans and paps comments, and oscar tries to comfort her

word count: 1206

warning: wait till the end and tell me if you'd like a part 2 *kiss kiss*. reader feeling insecure about herself and thinking she's not good enough (remember: you are good enough, don't hear what others say!). use of y/n. corrected the translation at almost 1am so i apologize if there are mistakes

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

After a long day in the paddock, and after a race that was supposed to be the highlight of the season but ended in a DNF for Oscar, your boyfriend decided to cheer both of you up by inviting you to have dinner in a fancy restaurant. You have been in a relationship for several years since you both were high school sweethearts, so sometimes the romance wore thin. Today, he wanted to give his best after a day worth to forget.

Lately, he had noticed that your behavior was a bit strange. You seemed uncomfortable with yourself, and your self-esteem was at an all-time low, judging by the unpleasant comments you had been making lately about herself. Moreover, the media and "fans" criticism didn't help either, as paparazzi and journalists had been harassing and spreading rumors about Oscar cheating on you, or that you have been gaining too much weight for Piastri’s liking. All of them, among others, were damaging your relationship slowly.

For those two reasons, and because he felt like changing the scenery after the weekly training stress, Oscar told you that you would go out to enjoy a peaceful dinner. He was conscious of all of those criticism, and he was going to remind you how special you were to him and most of it, how perfect you were for him. Also, that you shouldn’t give a damn shit about others opinions, specially when Oscar was the one dating and loving you.

Although you initially resisted to go because you didn’t want to be the center of attention once again, you finally accepted because you knew it hadn’t been an easy day for your boyfriend. You dressed in a beautiful electric blue dress he had gifted you for you birthday las year, and decided not to wear makeup and jewelry. However, you still felt nervous. It was the presence of paparazzi, who followed you wherever you went, made you feel increasingly insecure about yourself and your relationship once again.

In those moments, you thought that Oscar deserved a girl better than you.

"Love," you addressed you boyfriend, a bit hesitant. "Do I look fine like this?"

"My God, Y/N… You're perfect. You always are."

You looked at yourself in the mirror once again. You tried to fake a smile, but you didn't like what you saw in front of you.

"I don't know… I feel a bit ridiculous in this dress," you explained. "Do I look too fat? I don’t think this color suits me very well either..."

"Don't say that," Oscar scolded, approaching you. "It looks amazing on you. Do you remember when I gave it to you? You loved it! You have been wanting it, for months actually, and even though you didn't say it, your face said it all."

"Yes, I remember perfectly, but the problem is that I don't feel comfortable with myself," you continued. "I'm tired of everything that's being said about us and the opinions people seem to have about us. To be honest with you, every day I feel more like… well, that I don’t deserve to be in your life. At least, not as your girlfriend.”

Oscar sighed. He knew you were right. He was pretty conscious about the media and obsessive fans’ behaviour towards you, and he didn’t like that part of fame either, especially when it was for no reason, and because they had no right to comment on your relationship, which was definitely private, but not secret.

You started to cry shily. He did nothing but hesitate to hug you and make your head rest on his chest. He immediately starting to stroke your hair while gently rocking you from side to side, trying his best to calm you down.

"That shouldn't worry you because you're the most important person to me," he assured you. "I love you just the way you are, for the worst and the better, and I’ll keep doing so every day for the rest of my life, ok?."

"Yeah, I know," you said, pulling away from him quite angrily, "The thing here is that I don't care about what you think, but what other people think. I hate that there are people who are spending their free time, or not so free, making theories about us as if we were a Marvel movie!t”

"Darling..."

"Don’t," you exclaimed, interrupting him, "I understand, and I respect, that you're a public figure, but that doesn't mean I can't be tired of the treatment I receive from girls that are in love with you! Aren't they such big fans of yours, and do they admire and love you so much, that they can't have a minimum of respect for the person you share your life with?"

Oscar knew you were right.

"Don't let that worry you," he explained. "What matters is that you and I love each other, and it's not a fake relationship like many out there, so don't let the negative comments affect you. Remember: those people don't deserve even a second of your thoughts."

"Well..." you replied simply. "It's difficult, Osc… I feel like people are analyzing and judging me all the time, no matter what I do."

Your boyfriend sighed again. He didn't know what to do to calm you down. Seeing you hurt made him feel really bad. Although he was familiar with the daily attention and hate comments, it didn't mean you, his girlfriend, had to get used to them. He felt frustrated and worried for you because, even though he knew you were aware that negative attention was part of the deal you signed when you started dating back in high school, it didn't mean you weren't bothered by seeing the love of your life being constantly mocked.

Oscar started thinking what to do. He wanted to make you happy, but if going out to have dinner isn’t what you desired that night…

"What do you think if, instead of going out, we stay here, at the hotel?" he proposed to you. Immediately, you seemed a bit cheered up by the suggestion. "We can order something and have dinner in bed while watching a movie or a series you fancy."

"Really? You don't mind? I'm sure you already had the reservation made, and I really feel so bad..."

"Of course I don't mind," he explained, giving you a kiss on the forehead. "You are the most important thing in my life, so I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

Your eyes were still red, but you tried to feel better and fake you were ok. You hugged Oscar and thanked him again for what he just did.

Immediately, you both snuggled up in bed while watching a movie you chose, while Oscar phoned to the hotel’s reception so you could have room service for dinner. Pizza, most specifically, as you wanted it and told your boyfriend.

You didn’t know, but that moment made Oscar the happiest man on earth. He made you smile, even amidst the sadness. However, it was time to start thinking how he could propose to you in a different way because your insecurity, sadly, ruined his plans to kneel and pull the question.

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separatetheyolk · 27 days ago

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Breathe | Charles Leclerc X Trans!British!DriverReader

ʚɞ featuring: Charles Leclerc

ʚɞ you (the first trans driver to ever step foot into F1) are still dealing with the pain of unsafe binding years later.

ʚɞ warnings: fluff, mentions of unsafe binding but I ain’t going into detail because I don’t want anyone actually doing it, swearing, transphobia, didn’t proofread lol sorry, y/n used

ʚɞ word count: 1830

ʚɞ note: FtM or trans masc in mind. He/him pronouns used for reader. I beg please bind safely. It really fucks you over if you don’t

mclaren

liked by youruser, f1, landonorris, and 15,876 others

mclaren We are beyond proud that Y/N has felt comfortable to come out to not only us, the grid, but to the rest of the world.

Y/N is the first transgender driver in F1 history! To be part of such a large step forward in this industry is a huge honour and we are all immensely proud of you! 🏳️‍⚧️

@/f1 @/yourusername

comments

user1 Did they just out Y/N as trans???

user2 They better not have omg

user3 Nono! Y/N has actually just came out on his own social media about an hour prior. And I’m sure that McLaren wouldn’t post this without his permission.. right?

yourusername @/user2 i fear you may have missed my own social media post. @/user3 is correct! and admin did double check with me before posting aha <3

liked by mclaren, user3 and 315 others

landonorris proud of you, man!

lewishamilton 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

user4 women don’t belong in this sport!

user5 Spoiler! He’s not a woman!

liked by yourusername

user6 F1 really has gone downhill. This is absolutely ridiculous. I refuse to watch this sport anymore.

yourusername up your arse mate no one gives a shite 🏳️‍⚧️

liked by charles_leclerc and 215 others

user7 Not Y/N being a pr nightmare before the season even starts 🤣

liked by yourusername

user8 As a trans person this makes me so happy omg 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 13,238 others

f1 AND IT’S Y/N WHO TAKES POLE IN BAHRAIN!

What a result for Y/N! It’s certainly a way to kickstart your season! All eyes are on Y/N to see what tricks he pulls out for the race on Saturday.

@/yourusername @/f1

comments

user1 DAAAMN look at this kid go!

user2 well, at least he had a better start than Stroll did

user3 Not exactly a hard feat to beat but at least Stroll actually made it to the finish line.

user4 THIS ISN’T A WOMENS SPORT!!!

user5 oh here we go

yourusername have a feeling there’ll be a lot of this 🙄❄️

user6 uno reverse used in the best way possible

user7 WHO IS THIS ICON

yourusername 💅💅

“I don’t understand why they have to be such dicks..” Charles mumbled, looking down to you with a frown on his face. A frown that you decided he definitely didn’t suit. “You’re a driver. Just like us. A guy. Just like us. You’re no different.”

You sigh softly, shutting off your phone and set it down on your chest. Reaching up with one hand you smoothed the creases forming on your boyfriends forehead. Your second carefully taking the phone from Charles’ hands. He really needed to stop reading these comments.

“But I’m not to some..” you whispered. “As much as I want to be, I’ll never truly be the same to everyone. I’m an icon to some, another driver to others, a complete stranger to most and a vile freak of nature to the remainder.”

Charles didn’t like that. He didn’t like that last part one bit. He ran his hand gently through his boyfriends hair, letting his fingers comb through tangles, shaking his head. “Mon amour, you are far from a freak..” he spoke softly. Voice holding such love it felt like your heart could burst. You watched the man above you grow confused as you let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head.

“Baby, I know I’m not a freak. I’m just stating there are some that think I am. And while they’re wrong.. so very wrong. I can’t change everyone’s minds.” You sigh softly, hand now moving to the back of your boyfriend’s head. Thumb running against the freshly cut hair.

You soon sit up with a groan, stretching out. Toes pointed, arms pushed to the air, back arching and popping. “But-” you started off, sounding strained until your body slowly relaxed. Stealing a kiss from your boyfriend as you stood. “I’ve got you.. so everything’s all good in my corner.” You smile to the other, grabbing your coffee cup and heading to the kitchen to fix yourself another.

“You really shouldn’t have anymore of that! The race is tomorrow!”

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 12,204 others

f1 Five races in and Y/N has already secured his first win with the Chinese Grand Prix! 🏎️🏁

But can he keep up the pace?

user1 Absofuckinglutely he can!

user2 No. He can’t. He’s only in his second year. He’ll mess up somewhere along the line.

user3 found the vestappen fan

georgeeussell63 Some clean driving there, mate. Enjoy your celebrations!

yourusername knew there was a reason your my favourite

liked by georgerussell63

landonorris drinks on me then, I take it?

yourusername ah, well. @/georgerussell63 sorry but your title has been taken

georgerussell63 traitor

yourusername <33

user4 Y/N AND GEORGE??

yourusername 🏳️‍🌈 but not for him

georgerussell63 ouch

yourusername oh hush

It turned out that Mr. Know-It-All in the comments was correct. You did indeed screw up. And you screwed up big time. Ninth race in for specifics. The Canadian Grand Prix. It wasn’t a particularly bad crash. Or at least, not by F1 standards. You didn’t split your car in half at least. No. Instead, you got a bit too close to your beloved boyfriend, went up and over his car. And somehow in what you’re sure would be in spectacular fashion on the replay flipped your car upside down.

Once you did eventually manage to get out of your car, you were waving medical professionals away. You felt fine. Nothing felt broken. A bit banged up and sure, there’d probably be bruised knees and a bruised ego. But you were fine. Of course, that didn’t stop Charles from hounding you with questions once you got back to your drivers room.

“Baby- babe-“ you held your hands up, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You move to set your hands on either side of his face, which seemed to stop the questions well enough. You rose your eyebrows allowing the smile to settle on your face as your thumbs gently brushed against his cheeks. “I’m fine..” you whispered quietly, pressing a kiss to the man’s forehead and sighed softly. “Bruised knees probably. But nothin’ that’s broken.”

“You’re absolutely sure.” Charles demanded an answer.. yet again, his hands moving to cup your own, pressing a kiss to the palm of each. “Chérie if you’re hurt we need to know.” You loved Charles, you really did. You loved the attentiveness. The caring side. The way he looked to you like you were his whole world. Hung the stars in the sky just for him. But you were fine.

“I’m fine my love-” the ‘love’ came out strained as your body jerked. Face twisted in pain as a sharpness radiated from your chest suddenly from a deep breath you’d took. The suddenness of which it impossible to hide from Charles. And instantly, the man was back on your case.

“Baby? Hey- hey what is it? What’s wrong.” He asked rather quickly. Brows furrowing, face twisting into concern as his hands moved to your side.

“My ribs-” you tried to get out.

“Ribs? From the crash?”

“No-”

“Are they broken?”

“No Charles-“

“Baby did the crash hurt them?”

“Jesus Christ on a bike will you stop.” You manage to get out, hands gripping his arms. “It’s from when I used to bind.” Each inhale brought that same sharp pain back. Like someone was jabbing a large needle inbetween two of your ribs. You hissed as another hit, trying to shallow your breathing some.

“Okay.. okay.” Charles thought for a moment. He read this somewhere.. no not read. It had came up on TikTok. At this point, your feed was bleeding into his own. Merging together into some fucked up culmination of shared humour. “Okay..”

You watched in confusion as Charles moved to the floor. Back firmly pressed to the wall. One hand waving as a silent gesture to join him, the other tapping the floor between his legs to tell you where to sit. Hesitantly you made your way over, keeping your breathing short to not cause anymore unnecessary pain. Charles pivoted you before you sat down so your back was facing him. Then, gently began to tug at your fireproof suit.

You followed his lead, moving to sit in between those legs, feeling him pull you close and legs stretched out. In this position, he practically forced you to sit up straight. Giving your lungs the most room you possibly could to breathe without any hindrance. “Deep breaths..” you heard from behind, feeling Charles press his face into your neck. One hand on your hip, another resting on your stomach.

“Charles, I can’t.” You spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It hurts. It’s fine. It’ll go away on its own in a few seconds.” Or well, that used to be the case. Now it took a few minutes to thirty. Or at least you think that’s what the record was.

“I know mon amour.. but it’ll go away quicker like this. Please?” He tried to encourage, pressing loving kisses to your neck, behind your ear. Anywhere his lips could reach skin there were kisses in it’s path.

Reluctantly, you begin to do as he asked, taking a deep breath which again, caused that same pain to erupt in your side. Inhaling sharper as a result. And, again, more pain. “I know..” Charles whispered against your ear, lifting his head up to rest against the side of yours. Beginning to take deep breaths himself. Deep enough so you could feel it and copy. “I know baby.. come on.” He encouraged again, pressing a firm kiss to your temple.

Again, you took another deep breath. Charles continuing to talk you through that pain too. Slowly, the gaps in between became shorter. Until you were consistently taking them. And two or so minutes after, the pain was gone.

Charles however, was still whispering to you. He hated seeing you in pain. However cliche it sounded. The idea his Y/N, his boyfriend, was in pain hurt him too. Moving now to spin you round. Pulling you onto his lap so your shoulder was resting against his sturdy chest. He removed the cap from your head, directing said head to his shoulder and you didn’t need to be told twice. Finding your home in the crook where it met his neck. Nuzzling into it and let out a sigh.

There was silence for a moment. Letting reality sink in before you spoke. “M’ sorry..” it was timid. Quiet. Not fearful but.. it didn’t ooze that same confidence your voice seemingly always held.

“What for, chérie?” Charles asked in response, hand moving now to rub small circles onto your back. Pressing kisses to the top of your head.

“Crashin’ into you..” you muttered, eyes fixed to your hands set in the orange lap of your suit. Picking at skin around your nails. “Scaring you.. worrying you..”

Charles couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Light and warm. You watched as he separated your hands with one of his own, intertwining together fingers on your left hand with those on his right. “Baby.. I’m always gonna worry. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” God you loved a sappy Charles

First post doooone

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kasagia · 5 months ago

Text

Let me follow II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!soulmate! reader Summary: Na-Baron tirelessly pursues and tracks you across Arrakis. You hide in the sands of Dune as best you can, but will it be enough to escape your soulmate with whom you want nothing to do with? Warning: violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; soulmate au!; Taglist: @avidreader73 @wo-ming-bai @shara-ne @alana4610 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part I ~•♤♤♤•~ Part III ~•♤♤♤•~

You close your eyes and hide your face in the brown scarf around your head. You listen to the sounds of the desert, the gentle sound of sand blowing in the wind, and the gerbils around you, trying to find some shade from the Arrakis' sun.

You breathe evenly and calmly, hearing the blood pulsing in the veins of the animals around you. You freeze, feeling heartbeats that are too loud and rare to belong to any of the creatures of Dune.

Your fingertips brush the sand beneath you, drawing patterns in it. You're manipulating the thick blood in their veins, and by the way you're having a hard time controlling it, you realise who your sudden guests are.

The Harkonnens.

"Did you sense something?" Your father asks while kneeling beside you. You sweep the sand with your hand, making your drawings and patterns disappear from view.

"The Harkonnens. In the southeast. At least 10 of them." You reply, poking your head out of your hiding place. You can't see anything in your line of sight, but you can clearly feel several heartbeats, unlike anything that lived on Arrakis.

"I'll tell the rest. Stay back. We need to make sure we don't have anyone following us if we want to get back to our sietch."

"He won't give up." You answer him, still staring at the desert. "Na-Baron. He will chase after me until he gets me." You don't have to tell him about it. He knows as well as you do that the Harkonnen's patrols have become more frequent and that you have had to escape from them faster than usual.

Na-Baron was looking for you. He made no secret of it. You know from your scouts that he himself commanded one of the units, moving through your territory like a snake, avoiding your ambushes, and entering your sietchs, leaving behind only ashes, ruins, and a sea of blood.

"He will never..."

"Are you so sure?" You interrupt him, scolding him for still clinging to false hope.

One day he will finally get you; the only question was how long it would take you to run away from him again after he catches you. And how long will you be able to enjoy freedom again in the sands of Dune.

"I… really would like to believe that I am." Your father admits it with sadness. You both turn towards the vast sands before you.

The sun burns down on you, making your body sweat more and more. The droplets flow into the tank in the suit. This is your only consolation. At least you're not wasting your water on your run.

"You don't have to protect me. I know Arrakis; I have my power. I can run away as long as I want." You say, glancing briefly at your father.

Now that the threat from the Harkonnens is even more real, you'd rather keep him away from it all. You wouldn't want them to capture him and use him as leverage against you. You didn't want him to get hurt because of you. Or anyone.

"You can run as lons as you are able to." He corrects you and pushes you back towards the rest of the group. You sigh, obediently following him. "And I want to make sure that you... are ready for what is waiting for you at the end of this race."

"Race with fate or time?" You ask him skeptically. You reach for your powers and try to refocus on the location of the Harkonnen group. Their hearts beat faster. You unconsciously wonder if Na-Baron is with them this time...

"You should try to get some sleep." Your father helps you to get on the sandworm you had previously put into a coma. You wait patiently until the entire group gets on the creature and wakes it up. Sand hits your face as the animals start to move and cross the desert.

"I... I have to be aware of our surroundings." You answer evasively, sensing Harkonnens. They were far behind you. For now.

"You can't be like that all the time. Go to sleep. I will take care of everything." Your father assures you and places a kiss on your temple.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You hadn't slept soundly for several nights, too afraid that you would meet Na-Baron in your dreams. If you did nap, it was only during the day and only for a few hours—at times when he couldn't contact you through dreams. You wonder if Reverend Mother could help you block this… connection between you two. But before you travel north, you must first hide out for a few weeks in the safe corridors of your sietch.

Maybe you'll manage to lose the Na-Baron who chased you so tirelessly. You were curious if the stars would show you such a great blessing.

"Thank you, father." You reply with a small smile, deciding to follow your father's wishes and try to take a nap.

So you snuggle up in an unfolded blanket and place yourself on the sandworm's back, allowing the walls of your makeshift shelter to keep you on the back of the rushing creature. The sound of the sand blowing through the air and the heartbeat of other people on it lulls you to sleep.

But as Na-Baron promised, you will soon find that there is no escape from him.

Even during the day.

There is blood around you. A lot of blood. It's pouring through holes in one of your hiding places' corridors. You cover your nose with your elbow and walk forward, your shoes soaked in the crimson liquid as you walk forward towards the exit. The blood reaches your knees when HE stands in your way.

"What is this?" You ask him, letting a drop of blood fall from the ceiling onto your lips as you move your elbow away from your face. The smell of blood fills your nostrils. But you can't hear any other heartbeats than yours and Na-Baron's.

"The future—if you keep running away. I must admit that each time it takes me a while to track you, but eventually you will make a mistake. And I will patiently wait for that to happen." You shiver, hearing his low growl close to you.

He acted so casually, as if there wasn't crimson blood dripping from the ceiling on you. He was too sure that his plan would come true. You wanted to tear away this overconfidence from him.

"And how can you be so sure of that? After all, you didn't even get a chance to take a few glimpses at me these past few days. How is your leg, by the way? I hope it hurts just as much as you hurt my people in your… prison." You scoff, not considering this small, cramped cell in the Harkonnen's stronghold as a real prison. It was a place of carnage, filled with death, the stench of blood, fear, and the helplessness of your people. And behind it all was your own soulmate…

"I'm very glad you are concerned about my well-being, darling. Especially since you were the one to stick a dagger into my knee. Fortunately, I have excellent healers. You'll find out about it yourself after our wedding night." You laugh mockingly at his words, shaking your head in disbelief.

How delusional he must have been to even assume that you would rather marry him than gut yourself before he even had the slightest chance to lay his little finger on you again?

"I would rather be eaten by a sandworm." You reply and push past him to leave. Feyd lets you in, inhaling your delicate scent as you walk past him. He grabs the scarf covering your head and untangles you from it. The material stays in his hands as you run away from him as far as possible.

Feyd takes a second to bury his nose in the scarf and inhale its delicate scent. He promises himself that next time he will inhale your scent directly from you—and definitely not in his dream.

He comes back to you, silently walks up to you, and hugs you from behind. He catches you by surprise and pulls you into his chest. You fight against him, struggling in his grip, but he just puts his chin on your shoulder and nuzzles his nose into your neck, not caring about your attempts to fight him.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He whispers into your ear and runs his tongue over your lobe. You shiver in his arms, and Feyd relishes every moment of how you feel in his strong grip. Like a small, trembling kitten that needs to be taken care of—taken care of by him and only him.

You acted so differently. In his dreams, you were a perfect little mouse that he could play with as he pleased, but in reality, you showed that you had a lot of rebellion in yourself to use. And while he was amazed by your cunning, thoughtfulness, and courage, it became irritating as he chased you halfway across the desert without making much progress. The itch in his pants was equally irritating.

"I'll never let you do that." You snap at him, pained to see the sight of a colonised Arrakis.

The Harkonnen's machines worked to extract the spice, and the bald men themselves... cleaned up the bodies of your men, feeding them to the sandworms. You felt sick just looking at it. And it was just a dream. You're afraid and wonder: What would be your reaction if it all happened for real?

"I'm afraid there's not much you can do. Especially from your little hiding place." He wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes it tight. You gasp in shock, struggling for air. You grab his hand and try to pull it away from your neck, but he's not strong enough for you to even make him move an inch. "Either you leave your little hiding place willingly, or I will chase you out with smoke, fire, and the blood of your people."

“Possibly…” You breathed out, wrapping your hand around the hilt of his sword. "But first you have to find me." You gasp and pull his blade from its sheath.

You swing, aiming for his exposed neck, but he anticipates your attack. He pushes you, disturbing your balance. You fall to your knees on the sands of Arrakis, breathing heavily as air finally flows freely into your throat.

However, this small moment of bliss does not last long. You roll onto your back and block his attack. Your blades clang as they meet, sweat dripping down your forehead and your heart racing, pumping adrenaline further through your system.

Na-Baron is on one knee, pressing his black steel sword at you. You shiver, feeling your muscles slowly give out, tiring as you try to push him away.

You gasp, pushing both of your blades out of each other's hands. You squeeze his neck in a tight grip, at which he does the most astounding, shocking thing—a thing that you didn't expect anyone to do in this situation.

He takes advantage of your surprise and disarms you. You growl, digging your nails into his neck and squeezing as hard as you can, cutting off any air he can get, but that seems to do no serious harm to him. You gasp as he collapses on top of you, pinning you to the sand with his full weight, and captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

There is nothing gentle about this kiss—and you don't expect it to be. You've learnt that the Harkonnens are rough, brutal, and sadistic. Their leader must therefore be far worse than they are, representative of the thoroughly disgusting nature of his people.

And though you fight and squirm, trying to break free from his grip, you can't say you don't like the way his mouth takes control of yours. You find it strange that even though you hate his insides and everything he stands for, somehow his touch, kisses, and scent still numb you in a… pleasant way.

This must be another spell of his, another trick he uses to draw you into him. You're still not sure exactly how he created this... connection between you, but you know it's definitely not natural. He may have been your soulmate, but centuries ago someone made sure you didn't feel any connection to the person you were supposed to be with.

You shiver as he caresses the skin of your wrist, where a centuries-old scar with the initials of your soulmate is visible. His initials, as it turned out.

"Tell me your name." He demands, pressing wet kisses along your jawline. You hiss at the feel of his cold, black saliva on your skin, the way it soaks into you... you can't waste any water...

You shake your head, trying to pull away from his small kisses, but that only gives him more room to manoeuvre on your skin. You can only sigh and bite your lip as he caresses you through the layers of your clothes, searching like a snake for a place he can crawl into to feel the softness of your skin.

"Your. Name. My. Desert. Rose." He growls with each press of his lips to your skin, fighting against your grip on his neck as you try to strangle him. Which proves to be a difficult task since you’re distracted by sensations he is giving you. Sensations you are ashamed of feeling. But your body can’t recognise an enemy like your mind can.

“Fuck off,” you say, glad for the little bit of control you still have over your body. Your lower half inevitably responds to his demands, growing wet and desperate for his touch. It takes all of your control not to join in his fun and grind against his thigh in time with the way he rubs the growing bulge in his pants against you.

"Oh, I will. As soon as I get my hands on you, I will." He growls against your neck with every last bit of air he has.

You shudder as his teeth sink into your flesh; he groans as if he's just tasted the finest, blood-red wine. The fingers of his hand dig painfully into your hips as he grinds against your core. You bite your lip, barely holding back a moan as you feel his hard length.

"I will find you. I will find you and fuck you until you forget you hate me. You will cry with pleasure, scream, and beg for more. I will turn you into my perfect, obedient whore, my desert rose. I will claim you as I claim Arrakis and your people. You will be a beautiful embodiment of my power—my pretty little prize." He growls against your skin, slowly removing your top layer of clothing. Your body shivers; goosebumps rise on your skin with each gentle brush of his fingertips.

You move your hand to the back of his head, digging your nails into the pale skin. He hisses, sucking a hickey on your neck, unaware that you've stolen his dagger…

You feel him freeze as you drive the dagger straight through his neck. Black blood drips down onto you, running along your collarbone and soaking into the fabric of your bra.

"You… will be mine…" He growls with his last strength, spitting blood at you as the connection between you closes. And you fall into the black void of dreamless sleep. A void where you deeply ponder what you've seen.

~•♤♤♤•~ A month later... ~•♤♤♤•~

You stroll through the marketplace, your nose buried in your black scarf. You discreetly observe the Harkonnen soldiers patrolling the area as you push through the sea of people to get to the waterskin stand.

Some women give you a sympathetic look, seeing your "mourning" attire; others try to look away. You mentally praise yourself for choosing your cover. It wasn't so easy to get a widow's black outfit, but it was worth the effort. The Harkonnens, despite their reputation for great brutality, didn't touch widows and didn't talk to them; they weren't the object of any interest or suspicion. It was strange that in all their brutality, lack of morality, and so on, they respected the period of mourning, especially for women.

You had been on the run from Feyd for a month now. During that time, you had separated yourself from your father and your group so that you could at least protect them from the wrath of the furious Harkonnen who was searching for you.

Although you must admit that the chase after you has slowed considerably in the last few days. You suspect that this had something to do with the baron's arrival on Arrakis. And his... unexpected death.

Yes. Feyd-Rautha became the new baron. You suspected that was why his men had been searching for you so intensely. However, to your great disappointment, he did not leave to Giedi Prime but remained on Arrakis.

You had thought long and hard about the reason, Na-Baron... Baron had decided he had to have you. Sure, you were his soulmate, but why had he decided now that he wanted you on his side? What did you have to offer him that made him willing to slaughter all of your men, destroy Dune, and devote practically all of his soldiers to finding you? There had to be something to it.

Your soulmate mark was the same enigma. There must have been a reason someone decided to cut out your skin with Harkonnen's initials tattooed on it, leaving you with only a faint scar.

You buy water, straining your ears to listen to the rumours carried by the Fremen whispering around you. Everyone was talking about only one thing.

A possible attack by Muad'Dib on the Emperor, his daughter, and the new Baron. These three had gathered recently on Arrrakis to discuss some of their business. Perhaps the main topic of their conversations was the new messiah of your people—the one they had spoken of for centuries, the one who would bring heaven to the sons and daughters of the desert.

You had only seen Muad'Dib once. And you preferred to keep it that way. You didn't read his eyes well. Instead of the expected messiah, you saw a coldly calculating man hungry for power, willing to do anything to avenge those who had brought ruin to his house. Paulk Atreides might have been less of a threat to your people than the Harkonnens, but he was still a threat. Especially his Bene Gesserit mother, who had become the reverend mother. And even more so the child in her womb.

The Harkonnens brought destruction and death. But in your visions (on those nights when you didn't dream of your soulmate/nemesis), you saw Paul Atreides pouring a sea of blood onto Arrakis, which seeped into every tiny sand of Dune.

Neither of them were good choices for your people.

You flinch as a hand lands on your shoulder. You peek out from behind your veil and meet Stilgar's stern gaze.

"What you are doing right now is a profanation." He snorts at you, leading you through the crowd of people and away from the watchful eyes of the Harkonnen soldiers.

"At least I don't attract as much attention as I would without this outfit."

"Let's get out of here. Muad'dib will arrive soon. You'll see, he'll do everything right." He assures you as he leads you out of the market. You shiver as you feel the eyes of passersby on you.

You stumbled upon Stilgar a week ago by accident while travelling to the main city. Your original (crazy) plan was to sneak into the landing site and grab one of the less guarded ships. And a pilot of some sort. It's not like you've had a chance to learn how to fly those weird metal contraptions.

However, your plans changed after your conversation with him. He planned a coup with Muad'dib to get rid of the Harkonnens from the lands of Arrakis once and for all. And your... extraordinary abilities were not unknown to him. You were to help in overpowering the troops so that their messiah could get to the council chamber with his men.

It was supposed to be a quick and short action.

So of course it wasn't like that at all...

You manipulate the blood of the guards, quickly and silently stopping the Harkonnen hearts. Stilgar and Muad'dib and their men follow you through the fortress corridors. You stop only in the council chamber, where the Emperor and the new Baron of Giedi Prime were supposed to be.

But there is no one in the room.

A moment later, Harkonnen troops surround you. You reach out to use your powers, but the moment you try to manipulate the blood in the Harkonnen veins, an unimaginable wave of pain passes through you. You kneel, clutching your stomach, and take a few quick breaths, looking around the room. Your gaze falls on an old Bene Geserit, who is whispering something under her breath, playing with a stone in her hand—a moonstone.

As you writhe in pain on the floor, you are oblivious to everything around you. You feel like every fibre of your body has been burned by the sun, but there is nothing you can do to end your agony.

"One more move, and I will kill her!" Muad'dib screams, pulling you roughly by the hair and pressing his blade to your throat.

Bloody tears begin to flow from your eyes. All you can see is red, your lungs burn, and your breathing becomes too ragged for you to make any kind of threat. Besides, in this state, you have a pretty low level of intimidation.

"Put it down, Atreides... before you do something you will regret." You shiver as you recognise the voice of your soulmate.

"Then let us pass, and maybe I'll spare your bloody witch."

You knew that if they didn't come to an agreement, there would be a real massacre here. And maybe the Fremen seemed to be in a weaker position now, but everyone knew perfectly well that one of their warriors was worth six Harkonnens. But neither side could be sure of victory. After all, it happened more than once that the outcome of the battle was unexpected by both sides.

"You know this is non-negotiable. You're in no position to make demands on me… and she's not worth this much trouble."

"Is that why you chased her across half of Arrakis with your men?"

"It was while we were conquering more territories. I never said that this expedition was specifically dedicated to finding her. As far as I'm concerned, you can cut her sweet throat. My only regret will be that I wasn't the one holding the blade that would inflict her final wound." The man behind you tenses, his grip on your hair tightening in anger and the dagger at your throat twitching dangerously, causing a trickle of blood to leak from the small wound he’d inflicted on you.

"One word from me, and the Atreides' explosives around the spice mines will be destroyed. Including those around the stronghold. I may not get out of this unscathed, but I will drag you all with me to my grave."

"You're bluffing." The Emperor replies coldly, but you can sense the underlying fear in his tone. You didn't know Paul Atreides, but from the rumours about Muad'dib, you could tell he was unpredictable. He could lie just as easily as he could tell the truth. You don't know which was worse.

"Let her go and face me if you want to accomplish anything. As you said earlier: Enough blood has been spilt."

"Since when do you dislike bloodshed?" You can actually see the mocking smile on Muad'dib's face without even having to turn to face him.

"Since I'm not the one who's having the most fun with it." The silence and tension in the room become more noticeable to you than the searing pain in your insides. The tears have stopped falling from your eyes, but it still hurts to breathe. However, you've gotten used to the pain enough that your vision returns, and the blurs in front of you become real people. "Let's finally put an end to this. One-on-one. Winner takes all." The growl of your soulmate sends a cold shiver down your spine.

You weren't quite ready for what was to come, and though you saw flashes of visions of this duel, the outcome never presented itself to you. However, you felt that after this, nothing would ever be the same.

"Rautha..." The Emperor begins with a warning, but before he can finish his sentence and express his concerns, Atreides speaks first:

"I accept."

These two face each other, just like in your dream. Both prepare for battle and present their blades to the other with a mocking "May your knife chip and shatter." The fight begins; both of them deal equal blows to each other, but after a while you realise that it is not Harkonnen who emerges victorious.

The visions you had start to replay before your eyes. You know perfectly well that if you don't react, Feyd will die. And while you liked the idea before, now the thought makes you feel sick, and the pain in your chest only increases.

Suddenly, the sounds around you stop reaching you; all you can hear are the whispers of the Reverend Mother. And suddenly, before you know it, your soulmate scar opens up and begins to bleed. Only your blood isn't red—it's black. You bite your lip to hold back a scream and feel SOMEONE reach for your powers. You are forced to direct the blood in Harkonnen's body and stop the bleeding from the Atreides blade.

This gives Harkonnen enough time to launch a counterattack and deal the final blow to the Atreides.

You gasp in shock, unable to explain why your powers went out of control. Or why blood suddenly began to gush from your wrist. But before you lose consciousness and slump to the floor, you see the dead body of Muad'dib fall to the floor next to you.

As you expected, you wake up chained to a bed with a muzzle in your mouth. You try to break free from your bonds, but it's futile. All you manage to do is shake your chains and make a noise that attracts the attention of the bald Harkonnen's servants.

Five women surround you, trying to keep you in place. You scream and struggle, trying to push their hands away from you as the door swings open with a loud bang.

They freeze the moment Baron Feyd-Rautha enters the room.

He barks a few words at them in their language and waits for them to move away from you. You shiver as you are left alone in the room with him, completely at his mercy and whims. He takes a few slow steps towards you, watching you closely.

"I knew you'd look beautiful chained to the bed." He says teasingly and strokes your cheek with his ring finger.

You tremble under his watchful gaze, your heart beating like crazy, but when you reach for your powers to use them, you feel blocked. You hold your breath in shock as he continues to draw patterns on your cheek, moving lazily to your neck.

"Surprised? I'm a patient man. Very patient. As soon as I heard about your little special ability, I had to find out the source of it… and learn exactly how to control it so you wouldn't rip my heart out of my chest the moment we will be finally alone."

His hand slides down to your chest. You sigh as he cups your breast in his hand, massaging it slowly, digging his fingers into it. You hiss, but no sound comes through the gag. Harkonnen hums, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning closer to you as he continues to abuse your breast through the material of the new clothes you don’t recognise and the blanket you’re covered in.

"Hmm… I think I'd rather hear those little sounds of yours." He says thoughtfully and leans towards you. His nose brushes against yours as you lie frozen beneath him. "And kiss those sinful, irritating lips."

Before you can react, he presses the dagger to your cheek. You shiver as the cold steel grazes your heated skin. Harkonnen takes his time. He plays with you, drawing patterns into your skin, drinking in every hitch in your breath, the quickening movement of your chest, and the look in your eyes as you give him one of your furious ones.

"It's amazing how even after having all your fangs pulled out, you don't lose your ferocity, my little, wild, dessert rose." He cuts your muzzle and removes it from you. You grunt and cough, feeling your throat become terribly dry, almost as dry as it was on Arrakis during the worst sandstorms.

He places a few pillows behind your back, moves you into a sitting position, and holds a glass of water to your lips. You have no choice but to drink, hoping that he doesn't intend to poison you since he went through so much time and effort to find and trap you.

His intense gaze pierces through you, and you wonder what is more uncomfortable—the chains around your wrists and ankles or his blue irises focused entirely on you.

As he places his glass on the table, you finally decide to speak to him.

"I see that I should have stabbed you harder." You growl, looking with distaste at how well he moves. His knee is practically healed.

"I see I should have tied you up tighter." He responds to your attack with equal venom.

"What did you do to me? What did your old hag do? Why don't I feel…"

"Take it easy, little warrior. You don't expect me to tell you my tricks before we get home, do you?" The blood is boiling in your veins. You have an irresistible urge to slow down his heartbeat and make him faint and hit his head on the floor, or better yet, some metal rod, but you don't feel anything. You can't manipulate the blood; you can't feel the hearts beating around you. And you feel so damn defenceless because of it.

"I am at home." You growl angrily, trying your best to fight back the tears that were dangerously starting to form in your eyes.

"No, you're not. Your home is where I am. Which is currently Giedi Prime. We'll land there in two days." You stiffen when you hear this. The knowledge that you're leaving Arrakis and that you'll likely never see your friends and father again hits you like a slap in the face.

"What do you think gives you the fucking right to…"

"As your husband and soulmate, I have the right to certain things." Now you freeze completely at his words. Husband? What the hell? What husband?

"What the fuck?"

"Language." He hisses at you and sits down next to you. He gently smooths your hair, and you catch the glint of a black wedding band on his finger. He smiles when he notices you see his newest piece of jewelry. "We'll have to work on that. Since you're a Baroness, a certain degree of… courtesy and manners is expected of you. But don't worry. I'll make sure you learn the skills you need quickly."

"I'm not your damn wife. Or your soulmate."

"Look at your left hand, my darling."

You reluctantly do as he tells you. You gasp in shock when you see that instead of the familiar scar, you have a black tattoo of his initials. And a huge ring on your ring finger. A matching ring to the one Harkonnen wore now.

"How..."

"A Bene Gesserit sister restored the link between our souls that you so brazenly severed. As a child, I believe. Tell me, were you that afraid of me, my love? Did you never even think for a moment that maybe you should get to know me before you try to destroy such a sacred connection?"

"You will pay for this... I swear you will." You vow to yourself and to him furiously, now only reassuring yourself that you were right about him all along.

"Two years with me, and I'll make sure you don't even think about hurting me, let alone running away from me. Besides, it'll be quite a task to run away with a baby on your breast, don't you think?" He whispers, leaning into you. You move to bite his nose, but unfortunately he pulls away before your teeth can even lightly graze his skin and chuckles darkly.

"Once I get my powers back, I'll make sure you die a long, slow death. You'll beg me to kill you." You growl through your teeth, giving him a hateful look.

He just smiles and strokes your jaw gently, treating you like you were a child who has a tantrum. You want so badly to break free from these chains and hurt him...

"Don't worry, honey. We have plenty of time to get to know each other. But let's get started, what do you think?" Before you can react, he straddles you and crushes his lips against yours.

You buck, trying to somehow throw him off balance and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip on your arms and presses himself closer to you. His hips grind against yours, showing you all too well how lustfully he reacted to your little struggle with him.

He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls your head back, giving himself better access to your neck. He trails kisses from your lips, along your jaw, and down the column of your neck as he settles his attention on your collarbone. You bite your lip as he bites into you with a growl, much like a wolf gnawing at its prey.

"No lip-biting. I want to hear all the little sounds you make."

"Fuck off, psycho." You growl, struggling beneath him and trying to get away from him. He clicks his tongue at you and runs it along your neck, up to your ear, leaving a wet trail of saliva.

"Is that how you address your dear husband? Haven't these wild rats taught you anything?" He mocks you and pulls out his dagger. To your protests, he cuts your dress in half one swift movement, exposing your bare chest to him. You gasp, surprised when he immediately sucks onto your breast, nipping and teasing your nipple.

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you, and even though you hate him with all your heart, the sensations he's giving you are… more than pleasant. You blush as he slides between your legs and moves his mouth lower and lower.

"My beautiful soulmate and wife, I have waited for you for so long." He mumbles against your skin, brushing his plush soft lips against your breast. You clench your thighs, wanting to block his access to you, but it only stops him for a moment.

In one powerful movement, he spreads your legs and buries his head between your thighs. You cry out as he brutally sinks his teeth into your thigh, marking you and drawing your blood. He licks his lips with a groan, as if it were the sweetest nectar he'd ever tasted, and runs a finger over that new, sensitive wound, spreading your blood up your thigh and all the way up to where you were shamefully wet for him.

These sensations are even more intense than when you were dreaming. You don't know if it's because you now realise that this isn't just a dream and that he poses a real threat to you. You also feel... overwhelmed by emotions. Your desire is much greater, and for a moment it seems to you that your emotions are no longer really just yours...

You sigh as his tongue teases your soaked folds. You try to crush his head between your thighs, but that only seems to encourage him more. You moan as you feel his tongue reach parts of you that you didn’t think he could explore in this position.

Suddenly your hands are free. You pretend not to notice as he undoes the handcuffs on your hands. Your brain works at an incredible speed as you think about what you should do in this situation. Without your powers and weapons, you could do very little, chained to the bed.

He clearly wanted you to give yourself to him, to feel what he felt for you. You could play that game for a while—just until you got your powers back. Then maybe you could somehow escape from him again...

So instead of trying to strangle him, you dig your nails into the back of his head, pulling him closer to you with a soft moan.

He groans at the feeling of your hands on his head. He strokes your hips with his thumbs, drawing meaningless patterns. At least for you. Feyd unconsciously 'writes' various words in his language on your skin. Mainly: mine, wife, baroness, darling, etc.

He mumbles words against your cunt that you can't make out, but from the way he takes ragged breaths and grinds against the mattress beneath him, he's probably whispering hoarse curses in his native language.

You are so close to the edge that you no longer care who is between your legs. Well, at least as long as you are about to reach your blissful pleasure.

His fingers caress your aching core, teasing you as he gently slides the pad of his finger into your very empty pussy. But just as you’re about to reach your release, he pulls away from you, a wicked smirk on his lips as he does so.

"Delicious. Perhaps if you learn to respect your new husband, we can both enjoy this, my darling." He gets up from the bed. He licks his fingers, groaning in appreciation as he watches you closely.

You gasp, sweat dripping down your face as you try to understand why the hell you feel, in addition to immense frustration and anger, also... satisfaction and pride. You blink a few times, catching your breath as you look at him suspiciously.

"You'll see, I'll turn you into my beloved little wife…" He speaks in his native language, gently stroking your cheek and playing with your hair. You frown, unable to understand what he's saying.

You gasp as he suddenly turns and walks towards the entrance.

"Wait! You can't just leave me here like that!"

"Rethink your behaviour, honey. A good wife doesn't call her husband a psychopath. I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Y/N." You scream after him, throwing a pillow at him, but instead of hitting him, it bounces off the closed door behind him.

You groan in frustration, both at the loss of your orgasm and the fact that your ankles are still chained to the bed and you can't even go and grab a blanket to cover yourself with.

As you lie there, you wonder how you ended up here. He admitted to researching you, but how on earth did he manage to block your power? And why did your soulmate mark become a black tattoo again? What gave him the right to marry you when you were unconscious? And how the hell did he find out your name?

You realise you've grossly underestimated him. And now you have to pay the price. You sigh, closing your eyes and listening to your surroundings. The ring on your finger is a stark reminder of your defeat. Luckily, the war has only just begun. And this time, you'll play your cards a lot better.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #dark romance #romance #feyd rautha smut #soulmates #pinning #obsessive love #toxic behavior

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months ago

Text

Neva Play - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Neva Play - Meghan Thee Stallion

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff with hints of angst - and a lot of sass (thanks anon who requested this one, it was perfect)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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I expected the usual whispers when I stepped into the media pen. I’ve been around long enough to know how it goes when things don’t go Lewis’s way.

But this time, the way they were talking, like the man hadn’t just won races less than six months ago—it had got to me.

“Maybe he’s lost it. Can’t keep up with the young ones anymore.”

One journalist snorted behind me, speaking loud enough that it was clearly meant to be overheard. I pretended not to listen, but I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched.

He’d barely made it two laps today before the car gave out, but they were acting like it was all on him. As if it wasn’t obvious that the supposed updates were off—especially considering his teammate had spun out in the same damn place in quali.

These people knew the car was at fault, knew the team had struggled all weekend, hell the past 5 races at least, but still, they chose to spin the narrative.

Then there were the Ferrari fans—louder than ever, celebrating their 1-2 finish as if that somehow proved Lewis wouldn’t be good enough for a seat anymore.

One of the older reporters made some comment about “when it’s time to hang up the helmet,” and I had to physically restrain myself from whipping around to confront him. It was all I could do honestly to keep a straight face through my interviews, nodding politely, smiling like I didn’t want to snap back at every smug comment.

By the time I wrapped up for the day, I had enough frustration boiling under the surface to fuel a dozen Instagram stories. But I kept it to one. Just enough to remind people who they were talking about.

And as I walked into Lewis’s hotel suite, the laughter hit me before anything else in the hall. I could hear the guys in the living area, probably already half a bottle deep into their pre-party drinks.

I took a second to breathe, let the tension roll off my shoulders. I didn’t need to bring that frustration in here.

When I finally stepped inside, I saw Miles perched on the arm of a chair, waving a drink around as he gestured wildly in conversation with the others. He caught sight of me the moment I entered, and that mischievous grin immediately spread across his face.

“Look who finally showed up!” he called, dramatically waving his arms as if I’d been missing for hours. “Your man’s honor here needs some more defending. That Instagram story? Had me weirded out.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched up in a grin. “Just correcting a few people.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” He laughed, standing up to give me a little side hug as I tossed my jacket onto the nearest chair. “I could’ve sworn you were about to hunt some of these journalists down in that paddock. Had me thinking you were ready to throw hands.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” I teased, shaking my head as I stepped further into the room.

Miles’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Everyone hear that? She doesn’t play about her man.”

The room erupted into playful “ooohs” and knowing glances, but I barely paid them any mind. I was too focused on Lewis, who had been standing by the window, adjusting his watch.

He glanced up, catching my eye, and I could tell by the way his mouth twitched that he was holding back a smile. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“You really don’t have to do that” he said, his voice calm, but there was a warmth in there. “I’m used to that bs.”

Of course he was. Lewis was the king of shrugging off comments that would crush lesser men.

But me? I wasn’t about to let people drag his name without at least saying something.

I tilted my head, my arms crossing in front of me. “I’mma keep doing it” I said, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Before anyone could chime in with another quip, I gave the room a little wave. “Alright, I’m going to get ready. Try not to burn the place down in the meanwhile.”

As I headed for the bedroom, I could still hear Miles behind me. “If I were you Lewis, I’d be feeling pretty damn lucky. You’ve got yourself a personal bodyguard.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath. Miles’s brand of teasing always hit just the right note. And I wasn’t mad about it. Hell, it felt good to have someone see how much I cared, even if they were poking fun at me for it.

Once in the bedroom, I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting the quiet wrap around me. The adrenaline from earlier was starting to fade, and I could feel the edges of fatigue creeping in

I had just unzipped my jeans when I heard the door creak open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel his presence fill the room before he even spoke.

Lewis stepped in, closing the door softly behind him, and I caught his reflection in the mirror as he approached. His eyes were on me, intense as ever, no matter how many times I’d seen them.

I started to turn around, but before I could, his hands found my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. His breath was warm against my neck, and his lips brushed the skin there.

“Protectiveness looks good on you” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.

I tilted my head, catching his eyes in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “Someone’s got to keep those idiots in line” I teased, my voice light despite the tension in the air between us.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “And that someone has to be you?”

I turned in his arms, resting my hands against his chest, my fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “Duh” I said, my tone soft but teasing. “You’ve got enough to deal with that thing you call a car. Let me handle these poor excuses of journalists.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to fight these battles for me, you know. That is also your workplace.”

I sighed, leaning into him slightly, my head resting against his shoulder. “I want to” I admitted. “I’m not going to sit back and let people talk. Not when it comes to you.”

He pulled back just enough to tilt my chin up, making me meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, but there was a warmth in them that made my heart melt a little. “They’re lucky you’re not exclusive to f1”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh, I know. But you are lucky I’m around enough to set people straight.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine laugh that made me smile in return. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “Now, are you going to let me finish getting ready, or are you planning to keep me here?”

He smirked, his hands still resting on my waist. “Now that you mention it…”

I gave him a playful shove, rolling my eyes. “Out. You’re distracting me.”

He stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. I’ll go. But don’t take too long, okay?”

“I’ll be out in fifteen, just need a shower.” I promised, watching him as he backed toward the door, still grinning at me like he had some secret he wasn’t telling me.

Just before he slipped out of the room, he paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. “For the record” he said, his voice soft but serious, “I appreciate what you did today.”

I met his eyes, my heart swelling just a little at the sincerity in his voice. And just as Lewis lingered there in the doorway, Miles’s voice carried through the suite, loud and as ever.

“Hey, Lewis! Let her go get ready, man. She’s not running away, you know?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as Lewis rolled his eyes. He gave a little shake of his head before turning back to me, his hand still resting on the doorframe.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he said, his voice playful.

I stepped closer, smirking up at him. “Surely not if you keep stalling me.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss my lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you go... for now.”

I laughed softly, giving him a gentle nudge. “Good idea.”

Lewis flashed me one last grin as he finally stepped back. As he disappeared down the hall, Miles’s voice echoed again, this time with a laugh. “See? Told you, she’s not going anywhere.”

I smiled to myself, shaking my head as I went back to finish getting ready, my heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

No matter what anyone said, I knew exactly who I was. And so did he.

______________________________________________________________

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#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you #ella1k

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catsteeth · 10 months ago

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The Caged Bird and The Leased Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 3 ✿:+ Tear Drop

pervious chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem reader, oral sex (fem rec), mutual masturbation, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of death, mention of arranged marriage.

Word Count: 4826

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The morning after your last encounter with the Hound in the stables you were woken up by two handmaidens. They dressed you in a gown Cersei had made for you, it was red and gold, embellished with intricate beaded flowers. No matter how many times you asked they wouldn’t tell you why you were being summoned by Cersei.

Your paranoia grew as you walked down the halls. You were more paranoid than ever nowadays.

As you walked into Cersei's chambers, her handmaidens closed the doors behind you.

“Hello, little dove.” She said standing on her balcony. You walked towards her, your hands fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

“Your grace, thank you for the gown, it is beautiful.” You tried your best to seem relaxed.

“Ah yes, red and gold. Those colors suit you well. That’s good, they will need to.” She said, stepping towards you, playing with a strand of your hair.

“Your grace?” You asked,

“Tell me, have you met my brother?” She asked softly and gently.

“Which-”

“Tyrion, Tyrion Lannister, have you met him?” She cut you off, dropping the piece of hair she played with and sounding suddenly sterner.

“Only passing pleasantries and exchanges, your grace.” You felt your heart race, your palms sweat.

“What do you think of him?” she narrowed her eyes “He has quite a reputation, and his physical appearance does not help it-”

“He’s been nothing but decent to my family and myself, your grace.” You interrupted hoping she would get to the point faster.

“Good, good. That’ll make things easier.” She forced a sympathetic smile.

“Your grace,” Your eyes fluttered. your voice wavered, and your heart raced faster.

“You have been matched. It is the King's will, and you two shall be wed.” She pet your hair softly.

Your throat went dry and you could help but look taken aback.

“I don’t understand,” Your voice cracked and you took a step back.

“You’ll get used to it.” She nodded, “My brother and I don’t have the best relationship but he is gentle with women. He will serve as a good husband. He will give you a child, that’s the best thing a man can give you. Perhaps we can negotiate with Baelish to keep your titles now that he’s betrothed to your mother.”

You didn’t care to correct her that she was your step mother. You stood there with your eyes wide, you didn’t know what to say. You’d found out two devastating truths in one moment. You’d possibly no longer inherit your fathers titles, and you’d be forced into the family that killed your own.

“Don’t you think?” Cersei asserted trying to gain your attention again not so subtly.

“Yes, yes Your Grace.” You faked a smile.

These people killed your uncle no less than a week ago, you had no choice but to accept. It wasn’t even framed as an option. They only wanted to calm you and make you agreeable, so you gave it to them. You didn’t have options.

You did what Sandor would have told you to do. You agreed, and smiled. You gave them what they wanted.

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Your chambers were small in comparison to Cersei’s. It was a constant reminder that you were not home. The sheets were red with golden lions and flowers embroidered into them. The walls are adorned with golden decorations. It was beautiful but nothing like your home, nothing like your room. You couldn’t imagine it, “(Y/N) Lannister '' it didn’t seem right. You are a girl of the vale in the lion's den.

The prospect of marriage became very real, and very near. Tyrion was the best of them, there was no doubt in that fact. However you didn’t even accept Loras’s proposal so why would you accept Tyrion's. But it would seem, you'd have no choice now, neither did Tyrion.

You thought of him every day, and every night. You would find yourself awake at such late hours they weren’t late anymore they were early. You’d dream of his hands, his broad shoulders, his sad eyes framed by a scowling face. You’d feel yourself pulse and you’d be forced to relieve yourself on your pillows or sometimes your hand to feel any kind of relief. You’d wonder if he had done the same, never knowing but he had. As you found yourself beginning to feel that same pressure in between your legs there was a knock upon your door.

“Who is it?” You beckoned, you were more paranoid than ever nowadays, Cersei’s speech just hours before your uncles execution didn't help.

“Your betrothed it would seem.” Tyrion beckoned back. You rolled your eyes and sighed, slightly hoping for Sandor, and not whatever awkward conversation was about to be held.

As you opened the door you gave a half hearted smile, “My Lord.” You greeted me.

He scrunched up his face and waved his hand in dismissal “No need for that, Tyrion is fine, my lady.” He smiled.

“Then enough ‘my lady’, (Y/N) is fine.” You said smiling back, this time more genuine, “Is there something I can help you with, my-” You stopped yourself and corrected “Tyrion.”

“I hoped we could discuss our arrangement.” He said as if he felt guilty. His eyes were kind, soft and gentle.

You nodded in agreement, however you didn’t know what much else was to be said. You began to step into the hall when he held his hand out to you. You were caught somewhat off guard by such a gentle act, you flinched, and it didn’t go unnoticed. You did however take his hand.

He led you to a secluded chamber. There were books strone about, this is the same room where you had stolen the first book of his. As you sat as he poured himself a goblet of wine, he motioned if you’d want some and you shook your head.

“This is awkward,” He said with a forced smile as he sat with his goblet.

“For you, I’d imagine so.” You said with a huff as you crossed your legs and your arms,

“It isn’t for you? Speaking to the man you are being forced to marry?” He said with a chuckle.

“Awkward or not, given what I have endured here, speaking with you is the least painful thing that has afflicted me.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He said with a furrowed brow. He made you crack a slight smile.

“Is there something you wished to discuss?” You asked shifting in your seat uncomfortably waiting for him to get to the point.

“Ah” He said as he placed his goblet down, his brain snapping back to the original intent of this meeting. “Well, my Lady-”

“(Y/N)” You corrected unapologetically,

“(Y/N)” He smiled softly, “We are to be wed.” You nodded, in agreement, your face however was still stoic. “I want you to know, I did not want this.” “Well” You inhaled sharply “I did not either. Though I hope I did not disappoint you.” You said with that signature venom in your eyes. You knew in a way that he didn’t mean it in that way, but you never passed up an opportunity to show that you weren’t one to shy from confrontation.

“I did not- You did not.” He stammered and stopped himself. He looked down collecting his thoughts, “I am not disappointed in you. But I believe someone you love should take your hand.” He said with a half hearted smile.

“May I ask you something?” You asked shifting in your seat to lean closer to him. “My father, Lord Arryn. When he brought me here, he brought me here with the intention of marrying me off. My father was not one to go into anything blind. I know he had discussed it, I know he had certain men in mind. Tell me who those men were.”

“You don’t believe he picked me?” He chuckled before seeing your still serious face and continuing, “Your father did consider Ser Loras Tyrell, Renly Baratheon, before his marriage of course. I am sure those would have good matches, though I do believe you might be missing some of those men's favorite parts.” You wanted to laugh but didn’t want to lighten the situation, so you settled for a smirk as you looked away hiding your amusement. “Your father did not want you to wed Joffrey.” His joking tone diminished “Baelish requested consideration, which was denied. Your father clearly cared for your honor.” Your eyes went back to him. You thought of it, Baelish requesting your hand? It seemed strange as you never met the man. “I am sure there were many others who requested your hand.”, He smiled softly.

“But not you?” You grinned

“I would not have embarrassed either of us like that,” He said, sipping from his goblet.

“Embarrassed?” “I would not embarrass you by being wed to a dwarf, and I’d not embarrass myself by being rejected by both you and your father.”

“Peytr Baelish didn’t seem to mind.” You jested, and he cracked a smile. “I don’t care about your height.” You scoffed, “You’ve been nothing but decent towards me and my family.”

“But if I proposed you wouldn’t have accepted.” “No I wouldn’t have.” He nodded “But that’s not because of your height. Or even your reputation. It’s because I don’t know you. Other than the few books of yours I have stolen and the passing exchanges between you, my family, and myself I do not know you.”

“Well we’ve all the time we need to know each other now.” He smirked, “You’ve stolen my books?”

“Four, maybe five.” You responded quickly “Things get awfully dull around here.”

“I suppose they will be our books soon enough.” He tried to jest, “I think I know something about you now. You’re honest, opinionated-” You stopped him

“The king does not like those traits of mine, it would seem.” You said slightly smiling.

“No doubt why he created his engagement... What my nephew has done to your cousin,” He stopped himself and looked at your lip, still slightly bruised from Joffrey’s Name Day. “What he has done to you… it is-” He stammered, unable to find an appropriate word for it, “deplorable.”

“I suppose he will be my nephew as well, soon enough.” You attempted to jest,

“(Y/N),” he said leaning forward, grasping your hand lightly “I promise you- I swear to you, no harm shall come to you.”

“You cannot promise that,”

“I suppose I can’t.” he said looking at your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, “I can promise that I will never harm you. I will do all I can to make you happy.”

You felt your eyes beginning to dissect his words as your brows furrowed in concern. You forced a smile to ease his mind. You placed your hand atop of his that was holding yours. You were genuinely appreciative of his gentleness and his kind words. You should be happy, he was handsome enough. But it was times like this, when another man's hand was on yours when you felt disappointment burrowing in your chest, how you wished it was another man, how you wished it was your man.

“I can assign a handmaiden to be with you at all times when I cannot, they’ll make sure you and Joffrey are far apart-”

“I don’t need a shadow, I can take care of myself” You removed your hand sitting back in your chair.

“I say you can,” He smiled, “I do have something for you, I thought, it might soften the blow.” He said as he sat up and retrieved a silver necklace from his coat pocket. It was a dainty chain that held a silver falconed winged woman who held a large natural pearl. What made it stand out to you even more was a blue sapphire teardrop that came from her eye.

“Valyrian steel.” He said, your eyes went wide as you looked at him, how generous, too generous. “Falcon wings, and blue sapphire for your house.”

“I cannot take that,” You said,

“Hm,” He looked at the necklace in his hand, “Well I cannot wear it.” He grinned holding it out to you again.

You sighed and took it, you smiled at him, “I look forward to getting to know you, Tyrion.”

You actually did.

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After such a long talk with your future husband and the idea of becoming a Lannister made your body run a cold sweat. You ran a bath with lavender to calm yourself but it hardly worked.

As you stood in your chambers, in your white nightgown and soaking wet hair, you looked around at the red and golden interior. The room is adorned with lions and flower embellishments. It was as if they were intentionally rubbing the fact you were misplaced in your face.

You looked for something to ground yourself, you grabbed the necklace that Tyrion gave to you.

You felt the Valyrian steel necklace in your palm. The cold of the metal reminded you of the cold breeze that would rush through the halls of the Eyrie. But then, it reminded you of something else. The metal of chainmail, the metal of armor.

You longed for so much nowadays.

You longed for your mother, father, your brother whom you’d only spent an hour of life with, your room, your birds. All were gone, but you remained.

You did long for one other thing though, one thing that was in reach but still so far. That made it worse, that it was so close and yet you were unable to take it. Your longing for your mothers comfort was easier to accept because it was so unattainable but this, this was so close it made you sick.

Then that sound that becoming too familiar,

Knock, knock, knock, ‘Gods” you thought, wishing everyone would finally leave you alone. You were certain it was some handmaiden that Tyrion promised you. A doting husband he was shaping up to be, how awful.

“Go away.” You beckoned, as you dropped the necklace onto your nightstand.

BAM BAM BAM BAM, the knocks were now banging at your door. You jumped, clutching the thin fabric of your nightgown.

You approached the door slowly, “Who is it,” you asked much gentler this time.

“I could bust this door down if I wanted.” He grumbled through the door. You knew that tone all too well, you dreamt of it enough times.

You relaxed and unlocked the door, opening it just a crack, but he busted his way inside.

“What're you doing-” You began but were cut off by him slamming the door and making his way to a golden pitcher on a small table on the other side of your room.

“Don’t ever open your door for anyone who knocks like that.” He grumbled under his breath as he took a long deep swig and promptly spitting it out. “Fuck water.” He hissed “You got no fucking wine in here?”

“Sandor-” You started before he cut you off

“Don't call me that!” He barked at you,

“What should I call you then, Dog?” You snapped back at him.

“And what shall I call you? Lady fucking Lannister?” He said with a fake mocking grin.

“You ignore me for days, and now- now you come into my chambers to let out whatever irrational rage is consuming you on to me?” You walked up to him, your eyes filled with hurt, “Why? Hm? Why are you in my room?” He didn’t respond and you stepped even closer, “Why Sandor-''

You were cut off by his large arm wrapping around your waist pulling you into his body, hoisting you up just enough you were on your tiptoes. As his other hand cupped your jaw as his scarred lips pressed against yours.

You ran your hands up his thick arms covered in hard cold metal.

That burning pressure between your legs began to rise once again once his large hand traveled down your jaw to your chest. You mewled into his lips as his hand traveled towards your clothed breasts.

He growled into your lips as he said through his teeth “Tell me to go, tell me to get the fuck away from you.” He said in a primal growl as he began to remove his armor.

You shook your head “No,” you painted, your eyes fluttering from the tingling between your legs only grew as his armor fell to the ground. You took in all the scars you could see peeking through his loose tunic.

“Run away from me,” He said in a low rumble as his hands returned to your waist and breast.

“No” You almost moaned as your hands explored his broad shoulders to his thick neck. You pulled yourself up to his neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Stubborn fucking woman” He grumbled as he grabbed you by your thighs, wrapping you around his waist. His mouth traveled from your plush lips to your jaw, then to your neck, your collar bones, and to your chest. Your breathy moans rushed straight to his cock.

“Put me on the bed.” You commanded softly, he obeys immediately, his lips and tongue not stopping until you were sat on the bed. He laid you there surprisingly gently.

You sat up onto your knees on the bed. You faced him as he stood at the edge of the end of the bed. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you pulled your nightgown over your head, the soft silk melted off of you as you tossed it onto the floor. His eyes wandered over you, his hand cupped your jaw as he looked down into your eyes

“You’re beautiful. I’ve waited a very long time to tell you that.” His words were sweet but his tone was dark and deep. Like a dog growling over a bone.

You never liked being called beautiful, but this felt different. You didn’t respond, you took his hand and kissed the palm before you reached your hands up to the ties of his tunic. He pulled it off of him before you could finish.

Your fingers traced the scars that littered his chest and stomach. You stopped at one on his lower stomach, you licked and kissed it softly. His hand came and brushed the hair on your head, pulling it back forcing you to look at him.

“You don’t want this,” He said, his voice was deep but gentle.

“This is all I want.” You said as your hand traced down to the ties of his breeches. He grabbed your hand.

“Have you ever seen a man unclothed before?” He rasped.

You shook your head, “No. Not like this.” The Eyrie was a cage with a cloak on top of it. You’d seen so little of the world so high up, and the men who worked there never dared defy Lysa. But you’d see paintings and sculptures.

He began to untie his breeches for you, he practically tore the laces as he pulled himself out. He let out a groan as he was released from his breeches. His cock wasn’t even fully erect yet, still twitching at the sight of your body beneath him. Your lips parted and you tried desperately to conceal your surprise, it was bigger than what you’d seen on a canvas or carved in marble.

You reached out to take him in your hand but he grabbed your wrist, again, stopping you.

“You’ve never done this before?” He rasped again,

“Only to myself.” You said softly.

A deep and dry chuckle left his lips as he stared down at you, “Dirty little bird.” He growled under his breath. “Lay back on the bed.” He rasped “Now.” He commanded in a low growl. As you did he pulled you close by your ankles.

He leaned down and kissed your lips roughly, groaned at the sensation of his cock touching the soft skin of your thighs.

Your hand began to trail down his chest to his stomach to his cock, before his hand could stop you once more. You whined into his lips as he pulled away “If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop, I’ll fuck you bloody.” He grumbled into your lips. It didn’t sound bad at all to you.

“What if I want that?”

“You don’t. Not really.”

“Or maybe you don’t want that.”

“I want to mark you up. I want to leave bites and bruises all over you, want everyone to know I did it. I want to fuck you bloody, stretch you over my cock. I want to make you all fucking mine. But, then your lord wouldn’t care that much would he?” He growled.

“Then what do you want with me?” You asked with venom in your eyes. You were annoyed with him and his teasing. You knew he was angry with the situation but you knew the reason he didn’t do it was because it would mean others would know of your infidelity. It would risk your safety. He refused you, because he cared, even if he didn’t want to admit that.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for too long.” He said as he dropped to his knees. You squirmed a bit, but his large arm wrapped over your thighs and pinned you down.

His beard tickled you, as he began to lap up your wetness. His tongue circled and tapped against your clit.

You let out a sweet, breathy moan, as you tossed your head back onto the bed you laid on. You grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of his head, It was then when he began to fuck you with his tongue, letting his nose rub against your sensitive needy clit. Once you felt his tongue penetrate you. The loud noises filled the room, mixing with your moans of pleasure.

He lifted his head from between her legs, “Keep your mouth shut,” He was panting and tightening his grip on your thigh. You pushed his head back, “Keep yours open.” you painted,

He went back to ravaging you with his tongue. You covered your mouth to keep yourself from moaning any louder, an effort almost in vain once he sucked on your clit. “Gods- Sandor” You whispered in a moan. You saying his name made him moan into your cunt, the vibration of it made that pressure in you build, about to snap.

“Sandor” You repeated wanting that same vibration, and you got it, it drove you past the edge and you felt the heat rush out of you. He drank your cum like it was wine. You mewled, as he stood up you saw his cock as hard as stone.

Your eyes fluttering and weakly trying to sit up you asked him softly “Let me help you.” As you reached out to his cock, but for the third time he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t” he urged, “I told you, if you touch me, I won’t be able to control myself.”

You sighed, “But I want you to feel what I did.”

“Lay back” This time his voice softer “Show me how you fuck yourself.” He whispered,

You reached down and played with your clit, a groan left his lips as he took himself in his hand watching you. You watched as his huge thick hand gripped himself and pushed back and forth. He grunted and moaned behind gritted teeth. And you let out sweet mewls watching him, hardly focused on your own pleasure. Picking up his pace he almost collapsed on top of you, his one arm able to hold him up as he leaned over you.

His grunts were angry and deep.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he fucked himself in his hand, locking eyes with you, no longer looking at you fucking yourself or his hand. It was as if he was pretending his hand was your cunt, pretending he was fucking you the way he wanted to for so long. You moaned his name sweetly which only helped push him further off that cliff. Your eyes fluttering, you held his jaw in your free hand, you pulled him in and kissed his lips gently despite the savage pace he was thrusting into his hand.

“Sandor” You moaned once more before he finally came undone. “Gods!” He gritted his teeth and groaned as he was harmed. You felt his heat pour onto your stomach.

The two of you planted together. Sandor cupped your face with his rough large hand, looking at you deeply before getting up and finding his tunic. He ripped the sleeve off of it and used it to clean you before he threw it into the fireplace in your chambers.

You sat up and crawled over the edge of your bed, leaning over and grabbing your silk nightgown. You threw it on as you watched him dressing himself again. Once he finished he looked back to you, the two of you locked eyes for a moment, longer than either of you wanted. Neither of you knew what to say. You stood and approached him.

“I care for you.” You whispered, your eyes softened and you cupped his cheek with your hand.

He took your hand by the wrist and kissed your palm, “You shouldn’t.” he rasped before leaving you.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

After that night, you couldn’t get your mind off of it. It was nothing you’d ever experienced, it only made your emotions deeper for someone who couldn’t have. And now, you were engaged to someone else. You needed someone to talk to about it. Sansa wouldn’t understand, she was too young, and you clearly couldn’t talk to Tyrion. So against your better judgment you found yourself confiding in Loras.

“You're an imbecile.” He quipped as soon as you told him the event of the past two days. You could hardly blame him, you had wronged him.

“I know you're upset with me, no doubt you don’t see things the way that I do.” You said stoically.

“No I don’t. No one does, (Y/N).” His voice raised slightly with annoyance.

“I do, that seems to be what matters.”

“You could be in High Garden right now, or you could be back in the Vale, in the Eyrie. I would have had men fight for your titles that Baelish stole from under you. I would have the finest things for you. Whatever you wished for I would have done it.”

“I wished for my cousins to be safe.” You were annoyed by his lack of understanding, “Besides Tyrion seems content to do all those things you mentioned anyways.” That wasn’t the kindest thing for you to say, but you often lose your temper when pushed.

“Is he content to let you bed a king's guard?” Loras retorted quickly and at a higher volume than you’d prefer.

“Keep your voice down.” You commanded in a lower and stern tone.

“Will he be content to have a bastard? Content to raise it as his own? Content to defend you and that bastard, when people begin to notice how little they look alike?” He said with saddened eyes, “I would have been. You were my one friend, my one true friend.” His tone mellowed, defeatedly

“I still am, it needn’t be this way. I should have accepted your proposal, I know, but I-”

“I know. Your cousin.” He cut you off. He picked a flower in the garden and handed it to you. “You are the most intelligent woman I know. But you are too stubborn and selfless, if you weren’t you’d be the most powerful woman in the realm I’d wager.” He said with a hint of a grin

“I don’t need any of that. What good has it done anyone? You gain an ounce of power and you gain three enemies.” You said examining the flower he gave you.

“Just, just stay alive, look out for yourself.” He said, defeatedly. He placed a hand on your cheek and walked away.

You sighed, nothing comforting came from it. You didn’t know what to expect but you were disappointed nonetheless.

You looked back at the flower in your hand, you huffed and tossed it back into the bushes and continued on.

You looked up and saw Joffrey with his guards walking past across the garden. You caught a glimpse of the Hound. His eyes caught yours. But soon you two were ripped from each other's gaze.

You didn’t know what to do now. All you did know is that you had three men who wanted you and three men who could despise you if you took the wrong step. And your mind lingered on one man in particular, one the other three weren’t even concerned with.

Baelish, and what he wanted with the Vale.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

Note: bark like you want it baby… I told y'all we’d be laying it down. And don’t worry we will be busting it down as well. Also the actual jewler who created that gorgeous pendent in the banner is miya kumo

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nathaslosthershit · 10 months ago

Text

A Little White Chapel Wedding (LS18)

(Part 3 of the Blind Item Series) Summary: Lance and his now wife had their reasons for eloping, he just hopes his dad will understand.

Lance and his girlfriend, now wife, had always wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight. Given how much hate and controversy surrounded Lance due to his father’s ownership of the team, he had already taken a major step back from social media. He knew that dating another heir apparent would piss many fans off, even if it was solely for love that they were together. Both of their families knew and greatly approved of the relationship but once Lance had proposed it seemed their families wanted to take over fully. Wedding preparations had been started without any input from the groom and bride-to-be. Seeing all these decisions made without the two’s consent had put a ton of stress on them. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives and they had absolutely no say in the matter. Guest lists full of investors and other business partners took away from the intimacy of the event. No detail was left unscrutinized and it was going to be far too extravagant, as this was going to be the first time they announced their relationship and the families joining together.

When Lance and his fiancee had gotten to Vegas, they had no plans of getting married that weekend. The thought only crossed Lance’s mind after the race.

“P5 Lance! Oh honey I couldn’t be more proud.” She said as she ran up and hugged him. She had been waiting what felt like forever to congratulate him, as he had been so surrounded the minute the race ended.

Pulling away from the hug, Lance put his hands on her cheeks as he said “let's get married”

“We are, Lance.” She responded, perplexed.

“Tonight. Let's elope and have an actual wedding about the two of us. No one else.”

“Honey, our families would kill us if we did that.” While the idea sounded wonderfully romantic and gave her butterflies just thinking about it, it just couldn’t work with the way things were.

“Who cares? We don’t have to tell them right away. We get married now, take an extra long honeymoon over break and then tell them once the season starts.”

“I don’t know Lance.”

“Please? It is unfair we don’t get to have the wedding we want. Who gives a shit about the guestlist with a million business partners we’ve never met. If they still need a wedding then we will do it their way but let's have our way first.”

She took a minute to respond, thinking the idea over before she finally gave her answer. “Okay, Lance. Let's get married.”

Lance had never envisioned his wedding going the way it did, but he also never saw it the way his family planned it to be.

Although as happy as he was, he felt so guilty when he thought of how his family would feel knowing that he got married without them there to see it. As important as business was to Lawrence Stroll, he knew his dad valued and loved his family above all else.

Over break, the newlyweds had gone on a bit of a delayed honeymoon, posed as just a really nice vacation.

They only got the honeymoon suit because they really wanted to go all out. No other reason…

They thought they had made it out unscathed, planning on telling their family in a week when they had gotten back from their vacation. Too bad they didn’t get to.

Lance’s wife saw the post first. He barely checked socials anymore. When the photos of them confirmed that the Blind Items post was about them, she felt a chill run through her body. Their families had to have known already, public image was important to both of them so they definitely had PR teams constantly checking what was going on. And she was correct.

“Honey, I just got a call from my Dad. He sounded pretty upset, and said we had to come home quickly and meet with him.” Lance said, confused and worried. His dad rarely sounded as serious as he did on the phone.

Wordlesy, she passed her phone to Lance with the tweet pulled up. She could see the color drain from his face as he read through replies. Fuck this wasn’t good.

What was probably the most stressful plane ride of Lance’s life was also painstakingly long. He couldn’t swallow the guilt building in his throat at how upset his father must be.

The once welcoming and happy house was now cold and silent as the couple walked inside. His father didn’t greet them, just told the two of them to follow him into his office. Lance just held his wife’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they made their way up there.

Lawrence still remained silent as he sat in his chair, looking at his married son and new daughter-in-law for the first time.

Lance was the one to break the silence.

“Dad, I know this is a lot but please-” He was cut off by the simple raise of his father’s hand to silence him.

“Why, Lance? We spend all this time planning the two of you a beautiful wedding just for you both to throw it away? For what?”

“Dad, you dont under-”

“No, Lance, I don’t. I mean how could you be so stupid?”

“Please if you just listen, Dad-”

“I have never been more disrespected by yo-”

“Stop!” Lance’s wife spoke up. She finally had to butt in. “You tell Lance you don’t understand and when he tries to explain you cut him off! How are we supposed to have a conversation when you won’t let anyone else speak?”

Silence spread across the room as no one dared to respond. She could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears.

“Dad. We eloped because we wanted something that was for us. The wedding you were planning wasn’t ours. We didn’t have a say in anything. From guest list to menu, you all controlled that. We wanted to get married on our own terms. While I will forever be sorry you weren’t with us, I am not sorry for getting married the way I did, to the girl I love.” Lance grabbed your hand once again to squeeze, to remind him why he did what he did.

His father didn’t say anything for a few moments. The newlyweds waited patiently, praying Lawrence wouldn’t fly off the handle again.

Finally he said, “Then I owe you both an apology. I understand that you both had expectations for your wedding and not having any say in the matter didn’t feel good. I wish you both said something. At the end of the day though, this is still a big deal for our families business-wise. You are my only son though, Lance, I wish I could have seen you get married.”

“We can still have the wedding, Mr.Stoll. Our plan was just to have something for ourselves, then have the main event be for everyone else.”

Lawrence smiled at that. Happy he would still get to see his son get married, even if it is the second time.

This time luckily, the couple got a bit more of a say in wedding preparations. With no comment from either family, the Vegas elopement was quickly forgotten once more pressing gossip reached the public.

While it still wasn’t what Lance and his wife had envisioned, having their families there this time was all they could ask for.

lance_stroll

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lance_stroll One for us and one for them

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#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #ls18 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

Note

I did the last request the vanilla cheesecake with a side of champagne and root beer and I forgot to add my person can it be max verstappen sorry!

bakery menu

thank you for the submission!! also i saw that this was your first time requesting a fic so THANK YOU! if you want to submit an order of your own, hit up the menu for all the information! i write for more than just formula one so go crazy! thank you and enjoy!!

vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) + root beer (filming/recording) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, filming/recording, collars, degrading language, mean!max, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, sex toys, orgasm denial/control, jealousy

max thought that you were sweet like honey, something to drag his tongue along as he had your ankles at your ears, his cock buried inside of you.

you didn't mind being the play thing of one of the best drivers in the world. you didn't mind that you'd be in your apartment one day and the next day you're in the back of his car heading to his jet to go anywhere in the world.

money wasn't an object to someone who made close to sixty-million dollars a year. even the time he was off racing, you'd still get a pretty deposit in your banking account.

it was a charmed life, but being the sugar baby to a man like max meant indulging in the needs of his. you were a paid service, company as you were once told it was.

and max had some sick little kinks. nothing that bordered on illegal (thank god), but the flying dutchman liked his girls behaving and begging. and you were the prettiest beggar of them all.

"head. forward." he said. he was seated on the couch and you were on your stomach with your arms tied behind your back with a belt and a toy stuck in your slick pussy. you had dropped your head up against the floor for a moment before max corrected you.

you looked up at him and whined a little, "please, sir. please, i promised i'd be good! i didn't realize what i was doing." and tensed up when max turned up the intensity of the vibrator via the remote in his pocket.

max currently looked fairly sleek, in slacks and a white button up. the suit jacket was draped over the arm of the couch and his sleeves were rolled up. those strong forearms were exposed. he was leaned back against the leather couch with his hand in his pocket with the remote in his hand.

he sighed through his nose before he said, "i don't think that's the case, treasure. you know what you did tonight, i'm surprised that you didn't whore yourself at that party."

you tensed up when he lowered the vibrations of the toy. he shifted in his seat a little and kept a stern eye on you. his gaze felt oppressive and it made you squirmed on your stomach. you felt like a worm, weak and vulnerable. prey.

"please, max. please, please, please! i'm sorry! it won't happen again." you arched your back a little and squirmed in your binds.

he made a face, that he wasn't convinced of your apology. he turned off the vibrator and got up from the couch. you could see the painful erection in his slacks more clearly. he walked over to you and held you by the back of the head to look at him. he said, "you are very dumb, treasure." his words were biting, "a dumb little thing." he shook his head a little, "oh max gives me money, so i can act like a slut. norris' hands were up your skirt. i don't like when people touch what is mine, especially another driver."

you flinched a little, but your core swam with want. he was domineering like this. scary in a way that left a thrill of excitement through you. you licked your lips and said, "it wasn't what it looked like."

he nudged you with his shoe and then stepped on the center of your back, right under where your hands were bound. he made a small noise before he turned the vibrator back on to full intensity. you tensed up and threw your head back, but you weren't going far. not bound and under max's shoe.

"i'm not too sure, treasure. i told you when we started this little agreement that you were going to be exclusively mine. i didn't want to share you with other men. i pay you enough to keep you mine." he pressed a little bit on your back and you arched it.

you felt the heat in your cheeks and the wetness between your legs. you panted a little bit, "i promise, i promise i will never let another man touch me." the lust in your body was short circuiting any logical thinking.

he chuckled, a little more convinced now. he took out his phone out of his other pocket and filmed your quivering body. he played with the remote in his other hand as he continued to film you. he took a good shot of your pussy as he watched your wither and moan.

"please, max. please, i'm sorry. i won't let lando touch me again. i thought he was just being friendly!" you moaned as you tried to shift your hips in a way to get the pleasure you need.

he put the camera in your face and your head in his other hand. he chuckled and got the camera close to you, "say that to lando right now, treasure. tell him you're off limits." he could feel the heat in his body grow, you were so painfully pathetic in front of him withering on a toy.

you looked up to the camera, your lips in a pout and your eyes were wet. you sniffed a little bit as you said, "lando. never touch me again. i belong only to max." then arched your back further as he lowered then intensity, only to put it to the max once more.

max rubbed your head and chuckled, "that's it, that's a good little slut. you actually know how to behave. i guess i haven't fucked all of your brains out."

you whimpered when you realized that max had full control over your orgasm. he was edging you when he finished filming you. you wondered if the video would actually be sent to lando at the end of this. the prospect of it excited you, maybe you liked the way max treated you like an object when he was upset.

he eventually had enough of the teasing he was doing to you. he got behind your naked, bound form. his phone on the floor beside him. he was still clothed with his cock out of his pants.

he loved the sight of you naked under him when he clothed. you shuddered at his oppressive gaze and winced when he took the toy out and replaced it with his cock. you squirmed under his touch and bucked against him. but a swift slap across the ass calmed you.

"you're so pretty like this." he said, "you're so painfully pretty on your shoulders and knees, letting me fuck the daylights out of you. you look good under me. it's where you belong."

you gasped against the hardwood floor under your. your cheek pressed against it as he started to rub against you. his large hands on your hips, keeping you pinned to him as he thrusted into you quickly,

there was no time for romantic pleasantries, he needed you at that moment. he needed to feel that sweet cunt around his cock as he fucked you. his possessiveness for you grew with each thrusts of his cock.

"please, max." you panted, "shit, please." you gasped as you moved against your binds. you felt the knot in your stomach as he fucked you without much abandon.

"see, you can be good." max groaned. he was obsessed with you, that was why he was luring you in with heavy stacks of cash. he could bruise your insides with his cock if it meant that you'd get something shiny out of it. it was almost cute, too easy for him to trap you.

the rabbit between the lion's jaw.

"max, i'm sorry. please, i want to be your good girl." you panted heavily.

he held onto the meat of your hips tighter and bullied that impressive cock of his deep into your sweet pussy. he wanted to make sure that he marked you inside and out.

pretty thing like you need to be owned. kept next to him, not running off with the likes of lando. things sparked in the back of his mind as he thrusted in and out of you.

he'd make sure next time that you knew who you belonged to before you both went out partying. maybe a collar next time, a nice piece of sturdy leather with a lock that only he could open.

so even if lando got his hands on you, max's name around your neck would be a reminder to him and anyone else that you were claimed territory.

"i know you can be my good girl." he said, "just lie there and let me fuck you. you're mine, got it?"

you swallowed, "yes, max!" you felt the heat curl in your gut the more that he fucked you. your head swam with pleasure, the aggressiveness to his movements were all getting too much.

he shuddered and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he felt his pace stagger when you clenched around him and finally came. it was all too much for you. usually he'd make you beg to climax, but he had done enough damage tonight. your poor pussy was probably nice and bruised.

max would make it all up in the morning with something expensive. he'd wave a stack of euros in your face and all would be forgiven. he thrusted heavily a few more times before he pushed it in all the way to the base and finished inside of you.

he prayed the birth control he paid for worked like it did every other time. but a sick part of his brain hoped that it failed. he hoped that you got pregnant and stuck carrying his kid. then at least lando wouldn't touch you, hard to get his hand up your skirt when you're nice and pregnant with a verstappen brat.

he grit his teeth and grumbled, "that's it, that's a good girl." he landed a smack across your ass as he finished. his pace slowed and he panted heavily. he leaned back on his heels and admired the sight of his cum dripping out of your poor pussy.

you've learned your lesson. you were going to be max's good girl. you were simply his expensive play thing, but the more max sank his cock into the gummy soft pussy of yours. the more the addiction came over him, max was getting greedy with your time.

and soon he'd want to devour your whole <3

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theemporium · 1 year ago

Text

based of this request!🫶🏽

Max deemed it was only fair that he shared some of his childhood experiences with you after the countless ones you shared with him.

You were all up for it until you realised it was karting.

At first, you were hesitant because of the ties it connected to in his past. You thought about the countless stories he told you about being a young boy, crying and desperate to please his father who seemed to have impossibly high expectations of his son.

But then you remembered that it was his childhood. That this was something he wanted to share with you, that he wanted to experience with you like the way you had shown him countless experiences for the first time. And you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no to him when he asked with those puppy dog eyes.

However, by the time you got into the karts, you were met with a pretty harsh reality.

You were absolutely shit at karting.

You thought Max would get a bit annoyed and impatient. After all, he was five years old and doing this with ease. And here you were, almost two decades older and unable to even go around the track once without crashing into something.

But when you got out the kart after the first round, Max took off his helmet before coming to help you with yours, and he had a massive grin on his face.

“You’re not annoyed by how shit I am?” You asked him, almost warily as you took his hand to help pull yourself out of the kart.

“Why would I be annoyed?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s cute.”

You raised your brows. “It’s cute seeing me crash?”

“It’s cute seeing you get so frustrated at not being automatically good at something,” he corrected with a cheeky grin.

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned.

However, between glaring at the kart and trying to listen to the tips Max was giving you, you seemed to miss the small child standing a few feet away. He was young, probably no older than six or seven years old. And he was staring at Max with wide, eager eyes, listening to every single word that left his mouth.

Max paused when he noticed the young boy, a small smile on his lips. However, the boy looked sheepish and embarrassed, and quickly turned around to try to run off.

“Hey, little guy,” Max crouched down, nodding the kid over.

“I’m sorry!” The young boy blurted out, fiddling with the straps of his small race suit. “I just…I wanted to know how you did that.”

Max raised his brows. “How I won?”

The kid nodded and something in his chest tightened, in a good way. In a way he wasn’t really used.

Despite the short-temper Max tended to have on track and with people in general, he had the patience of the saint as he kneeled next to the boy’s kart and began talking away to him. He gave him tips and tricks, told him little mottos that helped him before a race.

It was a light you had never seen Max in before and it warmed your heart.

By the time you made it on the track for the second time that day, and even though it was purely on purpose (by Max, at least. You couldn’t say the same with yourself, you truly were quite shit behind the wheel), the young boy had won.

He was grinning ear to ear when you made your way to the makeshift podium, standing proudly on the top step as he shook the bottle of fizzy juice until it sprayed everywhere. Max was smiling just as hard as the young boy. A smile that only grew when the boy launched himself at Max into a hug to say thank you.

Your boyfriend was still buzzing by the time you made it to the car. The track was a decent drive away, and with the day finally taking its toll on you, you were happy to close your eyes and lean your head against the window as you listened to your boyfriend ramble on about the day.

Until he said something that made your eyes snap open.

“I think if our kids ever kart, I think I’d wanna be pretty hands on, you know?”

You froze, unsure if you even heard him correctly. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him, but his eyes were still on the road as he spoke. However, when you remained silent, he finally glanced over and noted the expression on your face.

“What?” He murmured before frowning. “I don’t mean like my dad…if that’s what you thought. I just meant like—”

His hands gripped the wheel as he faced forward again, trying to find the words to speak but they were a stuttering mess.

But that wasn’t what caught you off guard. It was his use of our. Not my, but our.

Our kids.

Your relationship with Max was still in the early stages, though there were the months of friendship that stood as a solid foundation of your relationship. And maybe it should have scared you that he was talking about kids so soon, that he was talking about your kids so soon, but it warmed your heart.

You imagined the young boy at the race track once again, except this time he was the perfect mix of you and Max. Maybe your skin tone and his nose. Or your smile and his eyes. Something that was a little bit of both of you. Or maybe even a young girl, one that Max would treat like his absolute princess.

You found that if that was your future, you didn’t mind it one bit.

“I think you’ll be a great father and teacher,” you said eventually, interrupting his stuttered rambles.

Something on his expression eased as he turned to you again, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And hopefully the kid has more of your genes than mine when they want to race.”

Max snorted. “If they want to race.”

“If they want to race,” you agreed with a nod.

And maybe both of your dreams that night were spent imagining a world with the two of you and your mini-me at the race track, matching helmets with their father and cheers from their mother.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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novemberdrift · 1 year ago

Text

𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 | jake webber x ghost fem reader

summary: jake, and the rest of the boys go to the biltmore hotel for a video on sam and colbys channel, what happens when they encounter a ghost, you, and he doesn't believe in it? you get irritated and start to mess with the boy a/n: warning for description of a murder, angsty+ i love the concept of the whole platonic ghost stuff i think its really cute words: 4.2k

the boys walked down the miserable hallway of the biltmore hotel, no color or sense of life near. sam squinted, pointing to a small plaque that reads, 'presidential suite'. colby followed behind with the camera, filming as they joked and made references.

as they arrived at the white door, the blonde opening it, everyone was in awe. the modernness mixed with the older architecture caught them off guard. peering in, they became speechless at the size of the room. "oh my god." he said, turning on the slight switch.

"what the hell this looks like our house." jake comments, taking in the white marble floor, and grand doorway.

"oh my god, there's- oh my god." corey mumbled, never having seen something so special.

"there's a library!" sam gestured to it, before they discovered it was a second story hotel room. they stepped down the spiral staircase, into the darkness of the lower floor.

jakes hands slid down the railing, it ominously chilling. he quickly realized how heavy the air was. he slowly shuffled into the shadow, noticing the muted colors of the wallpaper.

in a matter of seconds, a shiver ran down his spine, and his heart began to race. he felt a strange wetness on his forehead. touching it, he realized it was a trickle of sweat.

how was he sweating in this moment? jake was freezing, goosebumps beginning to form on his arms, it didn't piece together. he didn't like whatever he was feeling, and stepped back next to corey.

colby called out from on the bottom step of the stairs, confused why everyone was just standing rather than finding a light.

he shook his head. "colby, come down here, go into that room with the light off." him and corey encouraged.

"i literally got scared when i went into it." jake admitted, usually never being effected by the paranormal this intensely.

colby sighed, before walking towards the next room. he closed his eyes for a second, immediately feeling what the other had, and he retreated back to the group, frightened. "i just got chills, man." he mumbled.

"no seriously, this downstairs is weird" sam stated, touching the walls as he tried to locate the switch, before giving up and using lanterns.

they began to explore the large area, feeling a change in the atmosphere. colby observed a door he hadn't spotted before. he called over his friends, before creaking open the door softly.

sam realized that the room was on both of the most haunted floors, making it a point to the camera.

as the boys investigated the room, either messing with the antique elevator, or opening closets and cracking jokes, you stirred.

hearing a boisterous laugh, your mind became conscious, tuning into the howls from below. feeling slightly disoriented from being forcibly awoken, you were irritated to say the least.

not only did these people intrude into your hotel room, they had the nerve to be deafening.

you closed your metaphorical eyes, you imagined yourself elsewhere, wishing out of all places your spirit was attached to it wasn't this one.

the laughs stopped, and you propped an eye open, confused. then you heard the same voices, but in a much more professional tone. they sounded like poor actors. if they were actors in your day, they would not succeed.

their serious voices sounded immature, they weren't even using the correct grammar, infact things they said didn't sound like words.

typically, when people stayed in the presidential suite, you tried to keep distance, not wanting to intimidate them, however these people had you drawn in.

soon enough, it was completely silent and you heard the door shut to the hotel. they had left, most likely to explore. as they were talking to something, it almost sounding like an audience, you overheard them and assumed they were ghost hunters of some sort.

perhaps you should follow, you thought to yourself.

over the years of being attached to the biltmore hotel, many paranormal investigators have come and gone, and most times they call out for you. feeling the need to impress and give these peoples lives meaning, you'll normally mess with their devices or move things around the room.

you've met some determined and cool individuals, and only wished you could leave like them, the thing you despised most was being stuck here.

the closest thing to leaving, was trailing behind guests and pretending you could be apart of their life. so you did was you generally do and follow along.

finally coming close to them, you saw their faces. you predicted they were all the same age, maybe a year or so apart at the most, probably in their very early twenties, and that they had been friends for some time.

you could see the faded yellow aura that hung around them, indicating they had a close friend relationship. looking even closer you saw purple floating with them too, a sign that they were fearful of what's to come.

one thing about them you couldn't understand. a blonde boy was holding onto a piece of equipment, you assumed a camera, but the odd thing about it was how they all looked into it and made conversation, as if there was a bunch of small people inside.

you weren't born dead yesterday, you understood that there was now something labeled as the internet, and that there was social media, however you couldn't acknowledge all of it, your mind not capable. so you moved on, and just tried to learn about the camera on the way.

the group had eventually gotten around, looking into tunnels and secret spaces around the area, and figured they should take a break to eat and relax.

once they all sat on the couches that were organized infront of the television, the camera was put away and they began chatting about their experiences around the hotel so far.

three of the guys were discussing how they felt a negative vibe, and that they were slightly frightened and creeped out already and the night had just begun.

you took note of how one of them was less enthusiastic, and scrolling on his smartphone. just by observing him, and watching his movements, it was clear he was a non believer, or atleast a stubborn skeptic. "i think you guys are overthinking it." he stated, putting down the phone.

"jake, are you going to tell me this place doesn't scare you?" sam questioned, pulling out the camera to record his thoughts.

"it doesn't. i mean think about it, tons of presidents and celebrities have stayed here, they think it's luxury. why would they stay here if it was haunted?" you thought about his logic and agreed with it, you would probably think the same as him.

"so you don't believe the hotel is haunted at all?" colby leaned in, eager to hear.

jake glanced around the room before answering a very simple, "i don't."

you furrowed your eyebrows, glaring at the boy infront of you. you stood, feet hovering above the carpeted ground. to say you were offended was an understatement.

it had been a long while since someone denied not just your existence, but all of the spirits that reside here, and honestly it had your old blood boiling. it felt like a competition to you, something that had to be proven.

you floated around the room, merging down to the lower floor to mess with something. eyes glancing, they finally landed onto the rustic old elevator that had previously given them chills.

focusing on the door, you used your energy to open it, and to rattle the guard on it. a misconception that has been passed around that you hated, was how ghosts physically touch and throw things.

it was a lot more difficult than that. you had to focus, and think about it occurring, which cost you a lot of your energy, energy that you only got back from resting.

"guys, guys, holy fuck." sam turns on the camera out of fear after hearing an eerie noise that broke the calm ambiance. they exchanged frightened but curious glances, wondering what the sound could have been.

"did you fucking hear that?" colby asked frantically, looking around the room. you enjoy the panic on their faces as they start going downstairs, so you move the fencing again.

the noise persisted, and crude waves of unease gradually wash over them, sam running down the stairs, his face fraught with urgency. as he got to the bottom, he froze in his tracks, eyes widening with trepidation. "oh god."

corey gasped. "the doors open!" he pointed across the hallway, directly where you stood.

you held your breath and scooted away as jake took your spot next to the elevator. it had been awhile since you were that close to someone, you never liking the feeling of them passing by or through you.

"wasn't it closed?" corey exclaimed, keeping his distance.

"we would've closed it right?" sam said, everyone mutually agreeing but still indistinct. he walked over to the spot, and started rocking the guard back and forth, making the exact unwavering sound you did.

you hovered near jake, and tried to touch into his emotions. he paused for a moment, chills running down his limbs. suddenly, a very unsettling feeling hits him, and all the hair on his body stands up.

it was a similar feeling to what he felt earlier, but more personal. the fear he felt was heavy, and the air quickly became thick like before. he coughed slightly, almost like someones hand floated around his throat.

he coughed again, this time everyone taking notice. they were very panicked by this situation, and distracted. "you okay, brother?" colby asked, putting a hand on the other's shoulder. he responded while nodding.

in reality he wasn't. he felt like someone was watching him, goosebumps began spreading around his skin and he kept shivering regardless of his sweater.

you watched as chaos ensued, the boys going through all of the rooms on the lower floor, looking for something that could tell them where the noises had come from.

they had stopped to converse, realizing how extreme they were being, and before they could even say a word, you were meddling around upstairs, touching a few keys on the grand piano.

you heard them panic once more, even jake confessing his fear. you sighed of relief, it was just what you wanted. you took a seat on the couch the boy had been laying on before this all happened, and leaned back, kicking your legs up.

watching them discuss what they thought the second noise was, the skeptical boy knew it was a piano, he felt it, and you were proud of him, clapping to yourself.

continuing to mess with them slightly, you found it entertaining for awhile, until it got sad to you. you never want people to fear you, you always identified as friendly to people who stayed in the room, and you knew you were just messing with them to prove jake wrong but they didn't know that.

so when you heard they were doing a seance, you beamed, because then you could hopefully let them know it was just for fun, and that you were harmless.

you were buzzing with excitement as you drifted down the hall, into the direction of the dining room. it had been a long time since you last had contact with people. the suite left unbooked for a few months, you wondered how expensive it was to rent now.

as the four boys set up their camera equipment and seance supplies, your translucent figure flickered with jolts of energy, and you waited in anticipation for it to begin.

you watched as they turned off the lights, and lit candles in between them. they flickered, providing mere glimpses of desolate space. shadows danced ominously along the walls, distorting objects into strange shapes that seemed to taunt their senses.

"we promised in our last video we were going to do a seance." sam spoke dully. "and.. we're going to do a seance."

"do we want to do this seance? not really." colby shrugged at the situation, looking at the lit candles.

they huddled against the table, and whispered words of encouragement to each other as sam attempted to google ways to begin such a powerful ritual.

jake glanced at them before wondering. "how do we as humans, decide how to correctly summon something?" he asked, not understanding.

"we don't." the other responded, still scrolling on his phone.

"i don't think anyone truly knows, so as long as we ya'know have the feeling of believing in something, trying to communicate with something no matter what. if something wants to talk to us they will.: he explains, making you smile.

as much as a skeptical he seems to be, everything he's telling the others is correct. as they discussed more, you listened, so curious in what people think about ghosts.

you could only briefly remember what you thought about them before passing, but as time goes on, your memories of being alive fade away, leaving you with gaps of confusion.

wanting to get a better view, you perched yourself on top of the chandelier, accidentally swaying it slightly. you cursed when corey noticed, this time not trying to mess with them.

they extended their hands. "if there's someone here, please use our energy to communicate with us." they spoke together, corey still noticing the light shaking. he pointed up at it, and called your actions out.

you started feeling anxious, and floated away from it, going to stand near jake and colby. within seconds, the latter raised his arm to show his goosebumps to the others.

both feeling the cold breeze, and the candles flickering slighty, the boys looked to eachother before brushing it off, and continuing with the seance. they all closed their eyes, squeezing them shut as they focused intently. "if you are here, use our energy to make a second or sign." they spoke together.

as the group sat at the table in a circle, hands intertwined, the air grew still. you hovered around the table, across from jake. you were watching him carefully. his eyes began to open, and they widened.

a chill rushed down his spine, struck with horror. he saw a translucent form, face contorted with a large grin. you looked at him questioningly, wondering why he was looking in your direction, before taking a peek behind you out of curiosity.

after seeing nothing, you realized he was looking directly into your eyes. "holy fuck." he muttered, gaining his friends attention. "holy-holy fuck." he stood up, his legs pushing his chair back. he pointed to you, and you felt an aching feeling.

"what, what is it jake?" sam asked, looking around. the pain overtook your body, making you scatter away out of sight. jake blinked frantically, and you were no longer there.

"did you guys not see that?" his heart was beating fast, and his body trembling, knees threatening to give out. a soft tear even left his eye.

"see what? oh my god are you okay?" colby inquired, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"i-i." the boy couldn't even speak, in terror. what was worst is that he couldn't tell if his mind had played tricks with him, or if what he saw was true. "i saw.. i saw someone, something."

"what?" corey exclaimed, backing away from where he was sitting.

"it was a weird shadow figure, she had long dark hair, i- i don't know what just happened. i swear i was looking at her, and then it was like she saw that i saw her, and she disappeared."

when he had looked into your eyes, he felt such an odd connection to you, even with his frightened appearance, inside he felt drawn.

"are you a medium or something?" sam asked, trying to joke a bit. he knew his friend was a skeptic, so him coming out and saying something like this was out of the ordinary.

whatever had happened, had corey scared, so scared that he quit the seance, and decided to sit a chair away, no longer holding hands and chanting. "should we keep going?" colby asked, jake nodding desperately.

taking a few minutes to calm down, they restarted. and since corey had finished being apart of the activity, they figured they might as well use the oujia board for content purposes.

you began to cry in the other room, curling your body into a ball. you couldn't believe what had just happened. for the first time ever, in 20 years, something impossible occurred. someone had seen you.

never wanting to be the source of fear and panic, this had broken you. they thought you were a malevolent spirit, that you were scary. suddenly, you felt yourself being pulled back to the dining room, almost like someone was dragging you.

you tried to fight it until it was physically taking you away. once you entered, it was obvious the boy could no longer see you. he looked across the room, seeing nothing.

feeling another jolt, you take notice at the oujia board and planchette, and realized why you were being attracted to it. they were calling out for you again, trying to speak with you.

"if there is a spirit here, can you please use this oujia board to communicate with us." colby spoke, looking at everyone fingers on the planchette.

you begin to push it to yes, and observe as their eyes widen. "is this who i saw a second ago?" jake wondered aloud. you sighed, pushing it to yes before spelling out 'sorry'.

they faced eachother. "what does that mean?" sam asked to them, before gazing around the area. "what are you sorry for?"

using energy to move it, you spelt out the word scared, hoping they would understand. the boys discussed this, finally agreeing that you were apologizing for scaring them. "are you sorry for scaring me? for showing yourself?"

"yes." you mumbled aloud, and he heard it. he jumped up, trying to spot where you were, giving up when he couldn't see you.

"i heard you!" jake commented. "can you show yourself to me again?" you talked to him through the board. spelling 'don't know.'

"you don't know how? is that why you were shocked when you realized he saw you?" colby questioned, earning a yes from the board.

"what's your name?" jake asked.

"y/n." you tried to say strongly, only coming out as a soft whisper.

"y/n." he repeated, nodding to his friends. "your name is y/n." he paused, taking a deep breath, before feeling you stand by him. "a-are you near me right now?"

you whispered into his ear, brushing it gently. "yes." he gasped, moving back.

"she's right beside me." he told them, before revealing his goosebumps.

"are you friendly?" corey asked, from outside the seance. the planchette moved to yes, you running out of energy.

"i mean atleast that's good." sam muttered.

jake felt an odd feeling, attracted to your spirit. he felt connected to you, to your energy. he breathed shakily, before opening his eyes again, seeing you next to him. he tried to stay calm, and smiled towards you.

you giggled, smiling back, and giving a gentle wave, making him do the same. you held your hand up, and he understood. both of you tried to touch hands, like a high five.

you both gasped, you moving back at what had just happened. his hand didn't go through yours, it touched it. you felt how human and alive his skin was, you could feel his pulse from it, and he had felt a cold, hard feeling. "oh my god." he spoke. "guys, i'm touching her.. her hand is cold."

corey took a step back holding his hands up. "what the fuck is going on?!" he shouted, making you flinch. "jake, i swear to god if you're fucking with us for a prank, i'm leaving." he threatened, seriously scared.

"i-i i'm not, i don't know how this is happening." he replied. "can you do this with them?"

you shook your head, not understanding how you made this happen. "then can you show them a sign? a sign that you're real?" you nodded hesitantly. "okay.. hmm." he looked around the hotel. "can you knock on the door right there?"

hovering, you traveled to the door, and tapped on it aggressively, earning shocked faces from the group. "i can't believe this is happening." sam stated to the camera, before seeing that it was off. "what the hell?" he took a closer look, and groaned, throwing his hand out. "the fucking camera turned off."

"how long ago?" colby wondered, earning a shrug. "fuck." he muttered, knowing that a lot of good content could've been gone.

as sam tried to fix it, everyone else was focused on the oujia board, as it took less energy. "how old are you?" corey asked. it spelled out 19.

"i didn't realize you were that young." jake spoke. "what happened to you?"

having to think about your death was the most painful thing for you. it was the only memory from when you were alive that you could remember every detail to, so prominent in your mind.

almost there decades ago, 1986, you were set to be married to an american man, and you were waiting for him to return in the presidential suite.

it was a stormy evening, the wind howling outside of the biltmore, one of the most prestigious hotels. as rain beat against the windows, the sound of the raindrops hitting the panes was almost deafening and you had been feeling anxious, almost as if there was a foreboding presence looming over you.

you shivered, feeling cold and uneasy, wrapping a blanket over your body as you sipped from your mug.

an unexpected sense of dread washed over you and before you could comprehend what was happening, a shadow like figure lunged at you from the darkness, catching you off guard.

the mug slipped out of your trembling hands, crashing onto the marble floor into pieces. fear consumed you, as you desperately fought back, adrenaline surging through your veins.

you screamed, calling out for help. your hopeless pleas for mercy echoed against the dull walls before falling on deaf ears. in the chaos of the struggle, you fell into a table, trying to escape from them.

quickly, the masked assailant unleashed a relentless barrage of fueled strikes, their anger mingling with the terror that gripped your soul.

time lost all meaning as each thrust of the blade hit your chest, crimson streaks tainted the white floor, becoming a silent witness. and in your final moments alive, choking and spitting up blood, your twitching arm reached up and swatted at the person.

you heard a deformed laugh, before your world subsided into darkness, your spirit fading into the ethereal realm, and that's all you remember before you woke up disoriented, and realized you had died.

tears welled in your eyes, as you sobbed, face red and swollen. jake saw your pained expression, and in seconds your memories entered his mind, leaving him the same irregular breathing and gasps.

he tried explaining to his friends what you had gone through, them still hesitant to believe in this crazy experience. "i'm so sorry." he cried out to you.

he couldn't believe how you died, and how he just got your memories, or how he could see and hear you. he felt insane.

"guys this is serious, i don't know what to do anymore." sam said, looking at the boy. "we should end this."

"brother do you understand how crazy this is? you need to.. you need to get help, or see a medium or something." corey shrugged, shaking his head.

"i agree with sam we should end whatever this is, it's taking a toll on you jake."

"guys i can't just leave her now, i have to keep talking to her. if you want you can go watch tv or something but this is important to me now. i promise you guys i'm fine, i just.. i have.. i have to do this." he begged.

"jake.." sam trailed off. "okay. as long as you promise you're okay, like don't get obsessed with this. don't be too much longer, it's already almost 5 in the morning."

"i promise." jake nodded, watching as they left the room, corey not understanding why he would do something like this.

you two looked at eachother, before trying to catch your breath. "what is it like being a ghost?" he asked, attempting to improve the mood.

"sad." you whispered, lips chapped. "stuck."

"you're stuck here?" he repeated, earning a nod. "how do you get out?" you shrugged at him. he sighed, apologizing.

you sat together in deep silence. many would think it was awkward or uncomfortable but it was calm and peaceful. the fact someone could see and know you for the first time since you died, made you feel happy, like you had a friend.

he continued to talk to you and keep you company for awhile, feeling guilty that he had to leave in a few hours. you understood he did, knowing it wouldn't last forever but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"i'm sorry you're stuck here. i hope you find your way out or to the real afterlife so you can leave this boring place." he comforted you.

"it's okay." you smiled. finally being able to share your story was enough. you felt your body becoming numb from being so giddy. "visit."

"i'll visit you again, don't worry." he hums. "i feel like we're connected, like you'll always be attached to me." making you nod.

the two of you shared an oddly comforting hug, before he had to leave. you followed their group to the hotel lobby, and unlike most times when you went down there, there wasn't a pull.

so when you continued to follow them and you weren't stuck in place, the happiness came back, and you started to cry once more. you watched them drive away, feeling in debt to jake for how much relief he gave you.

you've gained your freedom after 30 years of being stuck in the hotel you were brutally murdered in. "thank you jake." you murmured, before floating away, the happiest you've ever been.

#jake webber #sam and colby #jake webber x reader #jake webber x ghost reader #jake webber x ghost #colby brock #colbybrock #sam golbach #corey scherer #trap house #biltmore hotel #anticipatecrime #jakewebber #colby brock x reader

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evilfrogcereal29 · 4 months ago

Text

ANOTHER NIKTO X READER I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THESE SPECIFIC SCENARIOS JUST COME TO MIND DJDHSKS

this is made with a fem!reader in mind, I try to write everything kind of GN, so sorry, but gender is kind of important for this specific piece cause reader's mistaken for a man and doesn't correct anyone to hide their identity

Tw: drinking, swearing, google translated russian, probably a bit ooc Nikto, I make him a lil softer than he probably is.

Nikto x Disguised(?)!fem!reader

- "You're pretty small for a guy"

- you were more than used to that sentence by now, and you never once saught to correct or challenge anyone on it. Who cared? There where more important things than whats in your pants, and it was better that everyone thought you you a man anways.

- You were very private about your identity, you had friends and family back home you didn't want getting wrapped up in this shit. You've seen how petty people can be for just a little bit of revenge.

- you wore a full suit of gear that masked your feminine form, including a helmet with a built in voice changer. (You sounded similar to that of a metro-cop from half-life 2, but with way more clarity)

- You didn't even push the man narrative, everyone just naturally started using he & him for you, unaware of your past or who you really were.

- You were, for the most part, one of the guys. Your file even stated you as male. A serious oversight by the higher-ups.

- So then why was Nikto currently pointing a gun amd looking at a woman in *your* armor?

- *Funny timeskip that i added here because I thought it'd be a bit confusing jumping between these two bullet points*

- You often frequented the showers late at night, it was the only time you could wash yourself uninterrupted by others prying eyes.

- You never realized how often you and Nikto barely evaded seeing eachother. You’d finish, disappear from the showers back to your room, and Nikto would come in, with the same idea of a late shower as you within a few minutes to as soon as 30 seconds after you departed.

- Tonight though, maybe by fate, you both got the idea at the same time, unfortunately for Nikto, you walked just a little faster.

- Nikto almost immediately turned around when he heard the water running, there was no point. Yet there was also frustration, and an overwhelming urge to confront whoever it was. Who the hell was showering at this hour?! He’s never had this problem before, who was deciding to give him problems tonight?

- He cracked the door open, head peeping inside, his eyes widen big at you- whoever you were- in his fellow solider's suit.

- Now it should've occured to someone as intelligent as Nikto that this *was* his fellow solider, but he had known you for a while, and had never suspected anything before, he would've known if you weren't anyone you said you are...right? Had you truely bested Nikto?

- He pulled out his gun right as you seemed to notice him, letting out a yelp. You were a confident 'man' on the battlefield, but now, you were red in the face, caught in a web of lies you didn't even mean to string.

- *Timeskip from earlier ends here :3 there will be more timeskips tho because my ADHD ass LOVES giving context*

- "ублюдок, ты кто? Where is our teammate? What did you do to him?" He growled, cocking his gun and aiming it right at the girl's head.

- Your eyes are wide, as big as half-dollars, and threw your hands up into the air.

- "Nikto its me! Its me!" You plead. Only receiving a sneer and angry grunt

- "You think I'm a stupid man, маленькая девочка?!" He yelled, stepping closer, finger twitching on the trigger, his bloodlust rising.

- The running water is the only thing breaking the terrifying tension in the room, you're mind is racing, how do you get this killer off your back. You needed to prove who you were. Think! Think!

- "Please don't shoot- let me prove it, I can prove it's me Nikto. I-..." You feel your cheeks heating up, god this was fucking embarrassing, and Mr. Emotionless here is the last person you wanted to slip up with. Even if you did prove yourself, he might kill you just because he felt a little angry that you didn't tell him personally. You gulp at that thought.

- Nikto grins under his mask, amused, truely, his gun lowers a bit.

- "Go on." He muses, "tell me something only HE would know." He smirks, thinking about how he's going to lay your body in the shower and watch the blood seep down the drain.

- *Time skip backwards again here, cause I love me some backstory :3*

- Your mind races. You and Nikto weren't 'friends' per se, but you had a past, you had met him right around when he had come out of rehabilitation after his sickening torture. He was worse back then, he would snap on teammates. He snapped on you, pinning you to the wall once, eyes dilated and filled with a primal kind of rage, he pressed down on your neck.

- "Мы сломаем твои кости, как стекло, маленький муравей."

- You had picked up some Russian from being around him and other fluent operators, knowing a decent amount, and in that moment you knew just enough to fear for your life.

- Thankfully Minotaur was in the area, and while he enjoyed watching a good scuffle bewteen two soldiers, he knew very well that this one would end with you dead, breaking up you two with very careful wording and while staying a very far away distance from the still ravenous, blood-thirsty Nikto.

- Surprisingly, you didn't completely avoid him after that, not like you could, the allegiance seemed to love put you two on the same team. Something about the variety of both your skillsets.

- It was true, you had to admit. You and Nikto worked very professionally on the field, quick and easy kills, communicating everything with head & hand gestures instead of talking. It was preferable for the both of you. And always ended with success. So maybe thats why you always ended up near eachother. Still, you always tried to give the Psychotic man the benefit of the doubt. Knowing the story of his past, as told to you by Rodion, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the broken man.

- It eventually built up to you having a very personal moment with Nikto.

- You were on a long-term mission, you'd been deployed in Yakutsk, Russia. Yes, one of the coldest fucking places in the entire country. Reaching nearly unalivable conditions- In your opinion- but of course Nikto never complained, he liked the cold after all.

- You had shacked up in an abandoned home on the outskirts of the city for the night. You laid on the one of the dirty mattresses left there by the old tenants, whoever they were.

- You shivered and shook like a rabid animal. Unable to sleep from how cold you were. Even in your full body of armor, it wasn't doing enough. You had those crap emergency blankets but even they, and the addition of the thin poo-stained mattress beneath you, didn't help with the very persistent cold that seemed to seep in through every crack of the home possible.

- You can only assume Nikto is fast asleep, at least, until you hear a soft humming, one that turns into soft singing, its gruff, and deep, but as you continue to listen, you find it rather soothing.

- "Здравствуйте, девочки Здравствуйте, мальчики Смотрите на меня в окно...." He sang, tapping his foot to a beat in his head. It seemed there *were* moments where nikto wasn't being mentally tortured by his own mind. Instead, filled with a melody from childhood.

- You rolled over and saw Nikto sitting criss-cross on the other mattress, his mask was slightly lifted up, but it was too dark to make out anything but the outline of his chin, and there was something in his hand, a bottle of Vodka.

- Now that you found weird, Nikto usually wasn't one to live up to the stereotype, in fact, he barely drank at all. Sure, he did drink lots in his youth, and still did a few lines of coke or toked off the occasional blunt when the offer somehow came up, but he was sworn off alcohol for the most part, especially vodka or anything strong, it gave him extremely awful headaches, he was hangovers bitch.

- You finally sat up after a few minutes, alerting him to your presence, his singing ceased and he pulled his mask back down over his mouth quickly, shooting you a dangerous glare.

- you frowned through your helmet that you kept on, blinking tired, dissapointed eyes at him.

- "Don't stop, I didn't know you could sing like that Nikto... Or that you drank-"

- "Господи, заткнись, сука. ты ничего обо мне не знаешь" he said defensively, you couldn't recognize every word but you recognized every swear, flinching at his vile language, but recognizing the slight slur in his words. A sign of inebriation.

- "Nikto...? You're drunk?" You try to ask, but he follows it up with a quick and defiant 'no' and more swearing. You let him, knowing better than you argue with the bullish man. Let him stop seeing red, than you could keep talking.

- "So.. what about tonight made you finally want to drink, I thought you liked the cold?" You ask, tilting your head.

- "I'm not drinking cause I'm sad." He corrected you coldly, setting the bottle down beside him, "The opposite actually."

- Nikto was...happy drinking? You didn't think normal people did that, but than again Nikto wasn't normal so- you supposed it made sense.

- "Whats the occasion?" You ask after a moment of consideration, and now that you thought about it, it was a bit rude, let the man be happy. occasion or not.

- "Everything is... Quiet tonight. I think we're just happy to be somewhere that feels like home." he says, tapping the side of his head.

- You're happy for him. He deserves moments like these. You find yourself scooting closer, settling down beside him when he doesn't shoo you away.

- "Tell me about your home, Nikto." You ask politely, taking him by surpise, catching him in a moment of vulnerability in his nostalgia and drunk-ness. The usual softness in your real voice, even with the voice changer, was present.

- He goes on to describe his early life to you, albiet, in bit and pieces, it's obvious he's holding back, relinquishing some details while stating others blantly. He also just doesn't remember much. Everything from birth to 5 years old is a blur for him. He just remembers his older brother and mom, and a vague outline of a father figure, but he left before Nikto's 6th birthday, Nikto can't remember his face or the sound of his voice anymore.

- He pointed out the song he was singing earlier, he listened to it often when he was a younger man. It reminded him of his mother and brother, of sitting at the dinnertable eating warm meals as a family whenever they scrounged up enough money to have the luxury of doing so. The laughter and love they shared, even if things around them were lackluster.

- He details early life in the military, his becoming of a spy and his... Eventual Downfall and capture.

- "One job, I got messy... I wasn't looking where I was going I..." He trailed off. He stopped telling his story and you reached a hand out, resting a hand on his shoulder.

- "Its okay. I get it. You don't need to tell me anymore if it hurts." You reassure, seeing the way he tenses under your pitiful touches.

- "I deserved it." He tried to continue, but you interupted him

- "None of that now. Just shut up and think about the now." You scold, noticing the wide eyes stare Nikto gives you.

- No one has ever told him to shut up before. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks underneath his mask, thank god he was wearing one.

- "Sorry." He muttered, and now you both sat there a bit stunned and quiet. The moment you were experiencing together left the both of your heart's racing, wondering a million things about the other.

- You because you had never seen such a soft, apologetic side of Nikto before, a man with no regrets, no empathy. He seemed so... Human?

- And Nikto because he couldn't believed he was being so soft and apologetic with someone. He always had his walls up. His mental fortress guarded with maximum security at all times. But you caught him when the Vodka- 3/4th a bottle of it that he found stashed in a drawer somewhere in the shack- had him weak, and you didn't take advantage of him. Didn't judge or even really cast much pity towards him. He didn't like being pitied. Fucking hated it actually. But here you were, rubbing his shoulder, which wasn't exactly an *unwelcomed* gesture, and sitting in silence with him. The voices were at bay tonight. Right now. It was just him, or whatever was left of Andre.

- "I used to walk 4 miles to school every morning in the freezing cold, and almost got hit by a pickup truck and stolen by a pack of wolves doing it." He suddenly blurted out, the previously warm vibes of the room returning as Nikto casted the past out of his mind. You were right. He was being too emotional, he should focus on the now.

- And right now, the booze brought him back to fonder memories, ones of childhood mischief and near death experiences.

- You looked at him with wide eyes and couldn't help the burst of laughter that followed, something that Nikto didn't find insulting, in fact, he was smiling too, underneath that mask.

- "You think that's funny, just wait til I tell you where I got my first tattoo..." He chuckled with his thick, russian accent.

- You and Nikto shared stories all night. And never once did Nikto question it, like when you told him you took ballet, or when you ripped your prom dress, or even when you told him about your first boyfriend. He shrugged it off. He wasnt exactly as straight as a board either. And the military exposed him to people from all walks of life.

- Of course, Nikto still thought you were a *man* at this point. A very effeminate acting man, but a man none the less.

- *Time skip ends here SORRY IF U HATED THAT SJSHSK*

- But now Nikto's world was flipped on it's head, as you combed through your mind, you find yourself going back to that silly song he sang. Trying to recall the words.

- "Здравствуйте.... дев-вочки.." you started, cringing at your poor pronouncations of the words and shrilly little singing voice.

- Nikto's eyes widen in recognition, all former sneers and snickers long gone. He wasn't joking anymore, and it seemed you weren't either.

- "Здравствуйте, мальчики..." You continued, your cheeks growing impossibly red, "С-Cмотрите на меня в окно.."

- "That's enough. Stop. Stop it." Nikto demanded, aiming his gun right at you again, "how do you know that? That night?"

- "Cause it's me Nikto! I'm a girl!" You exclaimed, getting annoyed yourself. You practically just performed for the bastard, and now he was still trying to shoot you, just like you figured.

- There was a moment of silence. And Nikto stood there, as if needing to process everything that just happened.

- "Put on the helmet." He demands. And you don't defy him, placing your helmet on, the change in your voice is like night and day,

- "I didn't think it mattered this much, I'm sorry." You said genuinely. Your voice deepened to it usual state, confirming your indentity.

- There a few more moments of silence before Nikto coughs, grabbing your attention. He straightens himself. Lowering his gun and putting the safety back on. There's a sense of embarrassment in his movements, he's tense, and avoiding your eye contact.

- "It...it doesn't matter. We'll just shower tomorrow morning." He says and hurries off. Another vulnerable moment with you, what was wrong with him?! He hated himself right now. For having never realized, and for having threatened you.

- Nikto did hold you in high regards, not that he would ever tell you or another soul. He respected your dedication to the work, and after that night in the cabin, a mutual but unspoken trust was formed bewteen the two of you. You never had a moment like it afterwards. Well. Until now.

- You don't dare go after Nikto in that moment, but you want to. It's late, and if you woke everyone else up and made them aware of the situation, only god knows what would happen. So you shower and head off to bed, replaying senarios in your mind, planning what you'd say to Nikto first thing in the morning.

- Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you see it, he beat you to it.

- You were still sleeping when a heavy-handed Knock came to your door, sending you scurrying out of bed for your gear. You reach for your helmet until you hear the voice on the other side.

- "Hey... Its Nikto...let us in, please." He says, his voice gruff and demanding as usual but theres something else there....Pleading? Hoping?

- You freeze, fiddling with your helmet before deciding its not worth it. You quickly move to open the door, making sure noone else is around before ushering Nikto in.

- He takes a moment to look you up and down. You're not wearing any gear now. Just some plaid pajama pants and a white tanktop.

- He sighs, shaking any stray thoughts from his head. "We should talk. About last night." He finally states, and you agree with a simple nod, motioning for him to sit next to you on your bed.

- It feels like last time, except the cards have been flipped, this time, it was your secrets that were being spilled, and Nikto had the questions.

- "Why?" He asked flatly, "why hide your gender?"

- "Why hide your face?" You fire back, rolling your eyes at him like it was obvious, "for privacy, same reason as you, as Krueger. We don't want anyone knowing what we look like, our identities" you said, using another member of the allegiance, Sebastian Krueger, as an example.

- Nikto's eyes dart down in thought, and he nods, "I see."

- Theres more silence, it seems that was a recurring theme between you two, long bouts of silence. Never once did either of you try to force conversation. It came naturally.

- Nikto really appreciated that about you in this moment. It allowed him to get his thoughts straight, arguing with the voices for a bit before he opens his mouth again.

- "No one has to know." He says, like its that simple, and stands up. He starts for the door and you move to follow, a hand on his bicep.

- "Nikto wait- that's it?" You ask, confused, but what did you really expect? Nikto wasn't the type to gossip. If information needed to be gathered and brought back his superiors, he would. But that wasn't what he was asked to do.

- "да, that's it." He said standing the in the doorway with finality.

- He shut the door behind him with a click and you stood there dumbfounded. Did any of that really just happen, or was all of this one big dream you were about to wake from?

- You pinched yourself with a winced and cursed under your breathe. This was reality. Could you really trust Nikto with this secret? Without blackmail? Without shame?

- Apparently, yes. As you would come to find out. In fact, you soon realize that this whole incident only made you and Nikto somehow closer.

- In battles, during tight situations, he was always there. Freeing you from the enemies grasp, carrying you with a bullet wound in your back. He was your personal guard.

- He wasn't being more protective just cause he knew you're a girl, he knew you were deadly. He's seen what you're capable off. No. You come to learn Nikto does this as a display of affection. Subtlety showing his appreciation for keeping his secrets, and in return, he keeps your's, and keeps you alive as well.

- After one particularly long mission, you're walking alongside each other, covered in dirt and grime, heading to the showers as the sun set and everyone heads for bed.

- You two showered together now, of course, broken up by thin curtains. It was a bit intimate, but it was an easier agreement than an already insomnia ridden-Nikto getting up at ungodly hours of the morning to shower.

- As you're walking together you nudge him gently, "good work today. You still fight well for a guy your age." You tease. Nikto knew full well you were hiding a shit eating grin under than helmet of yours, grimacing at you.

- "Yeah, good work to you too... For a girl." He says back venomously, earning him a playful punch.

- "Bastard! Don't be so loud about that!" You scold while whisper-yelling, but Nikto can still hear the smile in your voice. And knows its in jest.

- "It would be a shame if the others knew what a pretty little woman you really were."

- "It would be a shame if the others knew about the smiley face tattoed on your buttcheek."

- Both of your faces are red and concealing mischievous grins. This was you and Nikto's relationship now. Learnings eachothers secrets, and using them to pick on eachother. Playful banter.

- Everyone around base notices what you two are doing...just FUCK already you two... Damn. The tension is killing everyone.

- You and Nikto will probably end up together after a while more of this, its inevitable. You're just unjudgemental enough to deal with his freak, while also being one of the only solider's on base willing to put up with his terrifying, intimidating aura for long periods of time!

- Nikto always kind of liked you, as a man, and even now as a woman. And sharing your secrets only solidified that attraction in his mind. You were his милый, and he would keep you and your secrets safe for as long as he lived.

AHHHH HOLY FUCKING SHIT SORRY IF THE END FEELS RUSHED I TRIED TO CONCLUDE THIS LONG ASS STORY, I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH YAP I HAD IN ME😳

The song Nikto was humming is Кино - Алюминиевые огурцы, and was inspired by a comment on my post about Russian and Austrian musc left by @weepingmagazinesandwich and once I heard that song I knew I had to use it in a writing piece its just so sweet. The two playlists were made btw I just never publicly posted them (also cause Nikto's list is chronically short, and Krueger's playlist is already almost hours long) so- idk if y'all want those posted but lmk👍 I hope you enjoyed this- whatever you'd call it. Idk what to call the reader in this. Disguised!reader sounds so silly.

I have a sfw agere krueger drabble comin out soon, and I just started writing big chunks of the hubby!gromsko x reader hcs.

#HELP IDK A BETTER NAME FOR THISSS #lexwrites #nikto #nikto x reader #nikto cod #cod

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