#'when your day is through. and so is your temper. you know what to do. i'm gonna always be there' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goodeapple · 2 days ago

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12 rounds (cregan s. modern hotd pwp o.s.)

pairing : Cregan x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : MDNI PWP, sex in a public place, some primal play, fighting as foreplay, muscle worship, breathplay, choking, restraint, unprotected sex, collapsed doggy (unf), filthynasty dirty talk, cum eating

word count : 5,000+

note : long time no see, angels. back on my bullshit and ready to cause problems YAY. as always, i love my mooties and i hope this makes everyone's basements flood ;) xx

"Keep your head tucked, yes, that's it!" Cregan claps, whistling a sharp sound as the boys continue to circle each other in the ring.

He shouts more instructions to steer them this way and that, mentally noting to coach Dav to not keep his shoulder dropped so low. As if to send his point home, Aeron twitches quick as a flash, and catches his opponent on the cheek with a harsh hit.

"Kid's got a good right on 'em." Cley comes up behind him, and Cregan sends his friend a quick grin before keeping his attention aimed on his protégés.

"Be better than mine some day."

"Don't know about that- still get an ache in my teeth every time the wind blows colder because of that uppercut of your's. Poor bloke, whoever faces off against one of your boys."

"You're makin' me blush, Cerwyn." Cregan laughs, shouting praise as Davos pins Aeron against the ropes.

"Don't say that too loud- that lass of yours might get a wee bit jealous."

"My lass knows I only have eyes for her. Plus, she ain't even here." Cregan turns to him again, once Aeron has wiggled out of Davos' hold, and notes the pack slung over Cley's shoulder.

"You outta here?"

"Gotta get home sometime, or my bird might forget I live there."

"Hell, me too. Mine might change the locks on me." Cregan daps him up, pulling Cley into a quick embrace. "Catch you later, mate."

"Take care, man."

Cregan gets back to it, pacing around the square platform, yelling out instructions that the boys do their best to take, but he can tell when their tempers get the best of them. Better here than out there, his dad always used to say, the legacy left behind to his only son carrying more than just their family name. This gym encapsulates community and a safe haven for more than just old gymbros who have to dose to keep up with the young lads sprinting though here. And Cregan will carry that weight on his shoulders until he isn't strong enough to hold it, until maybe his own boy can do it without him.

"Winner, winner!" Cregan hoots and hollers, laughing as Dav takes a celebratory stroll around the ring, Aeron sagging against the ropes.

A round of applause has all three heads swiveling to the entrance of the gym, a shapely, feminine form stretched out in the open doorway.

"Y'almost took his head clean off, Blackwood!" Ysilla's voice echoes through the nearly empty room, her impressed laughter the sweetest sound these four walls have probably ever heard.

"Hi Sill!" Aeron, even through his mouthguard, smiles bright and huge at her, and sends her a big wave of his gloved hand. Ysilla smiles softly, sending him back a flutter of her fingers. It's been a million years since she used to babysit him but she'll always have a fondness for the sweet boy.

The setting sun behind her not only casts her into a shadowy dim, but it emphasizes the lateness of the hour.

"Shite, what time is it?" Davos shucks off his helmet, his cheeks red hot from the protective gear.

Ysilla looks down at her watch. "Half passed six."

"Father, Mother and Crone, my mum's gonna have my ass. Promised I'd be home by five."

"Do you need a lift?" Ysilla asks, already going for her keys.

Aeron waves her off, clambering in between the ropes to jump down to the ground. "Nah, don't worry about it. Dav kicked my ass all afternoon- least he can do is give me a ride home."

"Oh boy." Ysilla chuckles warily, eyeing the two amateur fighters with skepticism. Luke keeps her up-to-date on all the latest gossip, and tales of these particular two going at it- in the ring, at the pub, in the sheets (wayyy too much information, Luke, she'd told her brother)- have worry building inside of her.

Cregan slaps each boy on the shoulder as they exit the ring, praising them on their improving techniques and reminding them of what they still need to work on. Ysilla watches, smiling softly, keeping a close eye on the duo as they walk to the locker room, and listening as they exit through the backdoor.

Then, it's just the two of them, the gym nearing its final hour of the evening.

"You come in for a sesh?" Cregan makes a sweeping motion towards her, referring to her current getup. She looks down at herself- classic black yoga pants, white trainers, and a pale yellow sports bra.

Ysilla shakes her head. "Nah, leg day." She rubs the sides of her thighs for emphasis and Cregan caresses the movement with his eyes.

"What can you press now?"

She twists the ends of her ponytail around her finger, humility heavy in her casual tone. "About 136."

Cregan whistles and Ysilla preens like a peacock.

"Impressive, 'specially for someone so short. Yet, I bet you can't pick up a set of eighteens and do more than ten reps."

She balks at him, letting the comment about her height slide. "Eighteens? I don't even lift nines, fuck's sake, who do you think I am? The Mountain?"

He chuckles, looking down at the gloves left behind in the ring. An idea comes to him then, and his grin is nothing short of Grinch-like.

"Come on," Cregan smacks his hands together, rolling out his shoulders, "go a round with me."

Ysilla barks out a laugh, one that chokes off as he sheds his shirt. Once she finds her voice again, she's proud that it doesn't quiver like a Silent Sister's.

"We've just made it very clear that I don't lift, and now you want me to go against," her eyes drop, drinking him in like a cool glass of water. Cregan feels each lick of her attention ghost over his skin. He fights every masculine instinct not to flex like an absolute moron. "You?"

He coughs, sliding into the ring smoothly, hoping she can't see him blush from how far away she is. "Then we'll just freestyle, no pressure."

Ysilla shakes her head, an endearing little smile on her lips. "You're mad."

He sighs, heavy and dramatic. "Alright, I get it… I wouldn't want to go against me either." He shrugs, a sharp jump of his shoulders that's exaggerated just enough to stoke her temper.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her tone is sharp, pointed. A warning Cregan bypasses with glee.

"You said it yourself- you barely even lift. How could I live with myself with a win against such an underqualified opponent on my record? Nah, it's not worth it."

Ysilla knows she's an easy mark but she can't help it- eldest sibling gall swelling her up like a pufferfish.

She lifts the kickstand up, letting the heavy door slam shut behind her. She twists the lock, the metal sliding into place and she doesn't let herself think of a jail door, trapping her inside with a man she wants to-

"You're on."

He looks fucking unreal as she climbs into the ring. The shirt could've stayed on, but you won't hear her complaining. His skin is a pretty pink cream, dripped over hard, bulging muscle with veins that seem to pop out and whisper hello to her. His dark grey sweatpants (typical) gap just slightly around his hips, the white strings tied loose, and the peek of his Calvin's are nearly enough to send her barking.

He does up her gloves for her, quietly, and the silence is too heavy to take.

"You hit me in the face and we'll have a problem, Stark."

He taps her chin, raising her face so that he can stare into her eyes. "Could never dream of hittin' somethin' so pretty." He winks, securing his own gloves into place.

Ysilla swallows around her tongue. "Better not."

"Touch gloves, princess." Cregan knocks his first and lets her bash against his, before jogging backwards to his corner. He rocks on his feet, floating like a butterfly around the ring.

Ysilla groans, laughing in disbelief at what she's gotten herself into. "Gods help me."

They skirt around each other, all show for the first few minutes, teasing and tittering at every blocked shot and half-hearted strike. They graze each other, along the temple, at the shoulders, around the ribs. Too soft and light to cause even that of a bruise. It gets a little stale after a while, and Cregan takes his cue to run his mouth.

"Hit me, sweetheart, come on." He eats his words nearly immediately, as a hard knock lights fire where it lands against his face. He wags his jaw, swallowing back a rush of saliva from spilling out of his mouth.

"Forgot I have five brothers, did you?" Ysilla laughs, bouncing on her toes now, adrenaline bleeding into exhilaration. Cregan grins, if only a tad sadistically.

He lands a jab to her belly, close to her hip and she yelps, jumping away from him. Her mouth, once twisted up in a smirk, is set in a hard line, annoyance radiating out of her ears.

"Let's play, baby, come on." Cregan goads, blocking a hit to the face only to get a kick to his thigh. He gives what she can take, very aware of how he swamps her in not only height but size as well.

She gets him on the ropes after driving him backwards, crowding against him as much as her smaller stature will allow, landing a body shot that probably feels like a fucking bug bite to him.

"Wanna bow out, big guy?" She's only half joking, tiredness starting to seep into her muscles. She's had a long day well before she stepped into this ring to make a fool of herself against a world renowned champ, and it's starting to catch up to her.

A shark in the water, Cregan must sense her slowing because he pulls some trick shit and spins them around, and suddenly, she's the one on the ropes. And he's much more intimidating looming over her than she was trying to do to him. He bear hugs her, the rubber ropes at her back digging in deep as he lets it take their combined weight. His naked torso presses into her from hip to shoulder, and Ysilla shudders at the slick glide of his hot skin.

"Not before I do this." Cregan's knee sweeps up between her legs and he rocks against her cunt, grinding into her through her leggings. He wants to swallow her gasp with his mouth but he holds off, awaiting her imminent surrender.

"Get me off of you, Sil." He whispers, panting hot breaths against her ear. She whimpers, her hips twitching, pressing tightly to his leg. The bulge in his shorts pulses at her stomach, and she clings to his back like she's ready to climb him like a wild woman.

She shoves off the ropes, pushing Cregan away from her. They go back to their respective corners, even with Ysilla's knees shaking like jam.

"Not fair, Stark." She breathes, the chiding bite in her voice absent, given way to a simpering purr.

The smirk he sends her is nothing short of sinful and her clit flutters.

"Never said I played fair, babe."

And then they don't, even worse than before.

Cregan sweeps along her chest once, then twice, then stops playing dumb and kneads her hidden breast roughly through her gymwear. It's just shy of good, the tightness from her sports bra and the foam in his gloves keeping her from feeling the potential pleasure of his touch. She ducks under his arm, but not before palming him through his shorts, enjoying a little too much how his legs buckle beneath him.

At one point, they end up on the mat, Ysilla clinch holding Cregan in, his head trapped by her ribs. She takes her opportunity, legs locking around his middle and crisscrossing her feet over the small of his back. Cregan drops down, blanketing her, and the weight of him between her hips has a moan building in her chest. She can't help it, rocking along those washboard abs of his, each hard etching of muscle casting fiery flames under her skin.

Cregan clenches his fists, burrowing face first into her neck, letting her use him. His own hips press into the mat and he's not above rubbing off against it, his lust overtaking him as he breathes her in.

"Off." She whispers, loosening her hold on him, even if her legs are still spread for him.

He groans but relents, rolling onto his feet, yanking Ysilla roughly to hers. He backs away from her, his glistening chest rising and falling rapidly, the tent in his sweats mocking her as it points in her direction, arrow-stiff.

Ysilla starts forward, unsure herself if she's gonna strike him or kiss him, but Cregan evades her fluidly, dancing out of her path. He looks nervous, if only a little, as if he doesn't trust himself to let her get too close. As if he were to hold her too long again, he wouldn't be able to let go.

They begin again, tension thick and cloying in the air. Every punch is dodged, every kick has the other pulling at their leg, yanking each other closer. She's soaked and he's throbbing, their heavy breaths mingling, the distance between them shrinking and whittling away until there's little left.

Cregan gets her pinned to the corner post, and Ysilla fights harder than she ever has before. She struggles against his chest and she tries not to think about how fucking turned on she is. How big he is on top of her, how nice it'll feel when he screws her silly into the floor.

She's too close to his lips so she turns herself, her back to his chest, and it somehow makes it worse. He wraps his arms around her and lifts her to her toes, pressing every inch of his physique to her prone body.

"Should I start the countdown?" Cocky prick. Cregan laughs, dropping his lips to ghost up her neck and Ysilla whimpers, crossing her legs to keep her from gushing forth a fountain. She breathes deep, grappling at her last ferocious nerve, and holds tight.

She's not willing to lose this fight, not yet.

The back of her head slams into his mouth and Cregan curses. He releases her, flailing back, his glove going to cup his chin. Ysilla rears her leg up, planting her foot at the center of his chest and kicks him back onto his ass. She smirks, flicking her hair off her shoulder.

Gods, she loves when he's on his back for her.

She drops to her knees beside him, as if she were to offer him a hand up, but not quite. His sweats and briefs are wrenched down to his ankles and Cregan kicks them off and away. Ten inches of rock hard dick sways like a flagpole in Ysilla's face and she bites her lip to keep from giving it a kiss.

"No jockstrap? Such a slut." She giggles, flying high off her presumed victory, a winner's rush keeping her giddy. She swings a leg over his hip, attempting to shuck down her leggings once she's straddling him in reverse. She whines in frustration as they cling to her like a second skin, and she rips her gloves off in crazed desperation.

Cregan can relate- they've played this game long enough, he needs to feel her. He tears at the velcro with his teeth, shedding his gloves and flinging them across the room. Both of their free hands fly to her waistband and her pants are beneath her bum in a second, and down her thighs another after that. Her panties, a powder blue G-string, get torn straight off by his edacious hands.

"Put it in me, handsome."

"Put what in you, Silli?"

"Put your cock in me, champ. Come on, fuck me good, yeah?" Ysilla wiggles against him, leaning forward until her chest brushes at his thighs. "Stretch my tight, hot cunny out with that monster until I cry. Please."

Cregan's surprised he doesn't howl like a cartoon wolf but his dick does give a kick, slapping against his abs. He spits in his palm, jerking himself twice to get him slicked up. Not that he needs to- she's wetter than a fucking river- but he's a big boy and he'd die if he hurt her. He holds himself still and ready at her hole and his other hand goes to caress her hip.

"Come on, kitten, I got you."

Ysilla sighs, the sound free from nerves but full of eagerness, and sinks back onto his thick pole until she's stuffed to the brim, flush to his groin.

Cregan moans, head thudding against the mat, and Ysilla does the same, arching into his hot, firm hands.

"Fuck yes." Her insides flutter around him, hugging him close and forming to his cock. Once she starts to move, grinding forward before swinging back, taking him from root to tip on every glide, Cregan has to cling to the canvas beneath him.

The sight of her heavy, pretty ass bouncing for him, his cock disappearing and then reappearing in and out of her slick, steaming honeypot is something out of a wet fuckin' dream. So joyed, so pleased are her moans, they rebound off the vaulted ceilings and rain down upon the lovers like a symphonic melody.

"Look at you, ridin' that dick like it's yours." Cregan lands a smack to her cheek and Ysilla coos, all too willing to accept his hands on her that way. She throws a sultry look over her shoulder at him, blinking her amethyst eyes like neon bulbs, fuck me spelt out in Morse code.

"It is mine."

"Yeah? You own me?" He pants, sweat rolling down his temples, fucking her hard and deep from below. The wet squish of her soused center nearly makes his tongue loll free, and he wonders idly how pissed she might get if he pulls out and yanks her up to sit on his face.

Ysilla moans out her affirmation, her touch leaving his knees which she'd leaned on for leverage as she rode him. Her hands mirror Cregan's where he has a hold of her waist.

"These arms." Her feather light touch tickles as she strokes his wrists up to his biceps and to his delts. She twists, still seated on his lap, her hips rolling in lazy figure eights.

"This body." His skin shivers as she traces so reverently over his pecs, his obliques, his abs. His stomach loops around and around, and this time he can't stop his flexing, his ego and his cock being stroked in tandem. Ysilla's moan is a gift, her own flexing around his shaft sending his eyes rolling back, a sharp groan escaping from his chest.

"This beautiful dick. It's all mine. Mine mine mine." Ysilla digs her nails into his abdomen, whimpering and shaking, damn near screaming, as she shatters to pieces, her hand moving fluidly between her legs.

Cregan hisses, catching her by her ponytail, winding the thick hair around his fist. He bends her into an upside down U in one long pull. He's seen the poses she contorts herself into during yoga- she'll tap if it's too much.

Ysilla makes him proud, riding him harder, gasping wetly, her thighs quivering- she wasn't lying about leg day, and this doubles any workout she could dream of throwing together.

She yanks up her sports bra, bunching the material at the base of her throat to bare her tits to the open air. Cregan grabs himself a handful, Ysilla clutching at his hands as he does, feeling for herself as he gropes and mauls her chest. It feels delicious after being bound for so long, and she can't help herself as she massages her other breast with her own hand. He pulls her nipple a bit too hard, her stomach twisting at the sting and she remembers exactly where they still are.

Her elbow flies back and drives right into his side, and Cregan growls like a rabid dog.

He releases her hair and Ysilla's head falls forward, her breath coming hard and fast. He traps both of her arms behind her, lifting and dropping her whole body effortlessly, ragdoll fucking her without mercy.

"You fight fucken dirty." His ribs burn a twin flame to the one radiating from his mouth, copper coating his teeth, metal thick on his tongue.

"You don't like your girl a little dirty?" Ysilla mewls, going a little dumb on his dick. She's so wet, so sensitive, so blissed the hell out, she's not sure where she ends and he begins.

A growl rumbles at her back, Cregan snatching her earlobe in between his teeth. "Mmmm, I do. You know why?"

He winds his forearm across her throat, clutching onto his opposite arm to put her in a headlock.

"Because dirty girls get punished." He drags her backwards until he can flip them to their bellies, pinning her naked body between him and the canvas.

"Dammit!" Ysilla gasps, her voice a mouse squeak under his grip, her hands flying to claw at his encasing arms.

"You gonna tap?" Cregan asks it so sweetly, he knows it must put her teeth on edge. And as she tries to rear her head back again, to no avail this time, her answer is obvious.

"Alright baby, your choice."

He pins her legs with his own, keeping her spread open for him to use. Cregan fucks the same way he fights, with a bullheaded precision and an unyielding bombardment. Ysilla's cunt squelches around his prick, taking the beating of his hips happily, the moans and groans vibrating in her throat telling him exactly what she wants.

She manages to slip her chin down and open her mouth wide, her teeth burrowing into his tricep. Cregan doesn't even falter, his cock still driving into her like a machine, his mouth spreading to spill filth into her ear.

"Yeah, bite me. Like a fucken bitch with a bone, sink those teeth into me. Taste me. You gettin' fucked like a bitch too. My pretty little pup, takin' this big dick."

Ysilla's moan is feral, her mouth full of his muscle and his sweat coating her tongue. She sucks hard, the puddle beneath their clashing hips growing bigger, wetter.

Cregan can't help but notice- shit, sounding like they're stuck on a wash cycle.

"Listen to that pussy droolin' on my cock, lettin' me stretchhhh her out. Takin' everything I got to give." His voice, low-pitched and rich, slithers from him like smoke, spilling from him like a spout that never runs dry.

"Like bein' fucked like this? Middle of the day, with your leggings bunched at your trainers and top wearin' like a necklace? Pinned beneath me in the middle of my gym? Can't even run from it when I'm holdin' you like this." He loosens his grip, but just barely, her teeth finally unlatching from his arm so she can gulp down saliva and oxygen. "You like it, sweetheart? Like me pounding this pussy into the ground?"

"Yes, yes!" Ysilla shouts, as much as she can with his forearm still tucked tight to her windpipe. Spots sprinkle throughout her vision, her gasps bleating out of her in a sharp, steady stream.

"Messy little whore. Gods, Ysilla, this cunt, you feel fucken divine." He bites at her shoulder, drunk off of her scent. She smells like her and him and sweat and sex and it's good. So good, so good, so fucking goo-

Two soft but intentional taps at his bicep break through Cregan's haze, and his arms go completely slack around her neck. He wiggles one beneath her temple, lifting her head up so he can keep her close. Relaxing his legs, he uses his knees to push her thighs higher so that she's got them beneath her. He sweeps her hair to one side, smoothing the wisps away from her face so he can kiss her cheek.

His thrusts slow, tender now he is, making love to the beautiful woman in his arms. "Good girl, Silli, that's my good girl. Shhh, you did so well, baby."

Ysilla swims somewhere behind her eyes, all of her focus zeroing in on controlling her breathing and hanging on to Cregan's smooth, heavy voice. Her brain has whited out, the weighty feeling of his cock punching in and out of her keeping her on the right side of consciousness. He continues to whisper soft, sweet things into her ear, giving her as much time as she needs until the feeling tingles back to life in her fingers. She taps again at the mat, once she's as ready as she can be, her hips lurching back to bounce on his dick.

Cregan pulls her up and against him, and suddenly she's back in the game.

"Unnhhh yeah yeah yeah yeah, make me take it, Creg. Don't stop 'till you break me." Her voice is shot and tears sting in her eyes but it's still so good.

She's so safe here- in his arms, this man of hers. He would never hurt her- he'd rather fall on his metaphorical sword than cause her a harm she didn't beg for on her knees or with her hand wrapped around him, blinking big and doe-like up at him, please daddy dripping off of her lips like his cum does.

"Please my love, don't stop." Ysilla prays, her orgasm blazing through her and boiling her blood.

"Not gonna stop- never gonna stop." A promise, in more ways than one, as he interlocks their left hands, the metal on their fingers clinking like wedding bells.

"Cregan! I'm cumming, shit shit shit!"

"Me too, baby. Fuck, me too." Cliche as it is, they both break at twin times, shaking and falling apart as they collapse into each other. He cums forever, draining every drop into her and Ysilla takes it all, open and ready until his balls are empty. He kisses every inch of her skin- shoulders, neck, arms, back, cheek, until she's giggling and shoving him off.

"Beast of a man, leave me be."

He pulls out gingerly, but not before pressing a final kiss between her shoulder blades. He falls onto his back, heaving for air, staring up at the ceiling as if constellations swirl between the air ducts.

"Shittttt. There's groceries in the car." Ysilla groans, voice muffled by the mat.

Cregan doesn't move. "I'll buy us new ones."

"Why'd you have to distract me, Creg, you knew I was goin' to the shop today."

"Why'd you agree to a round with me then, if you knew you had groceries in the trunk?"

"Y'know you can't ask me things when you're all sweaty and your arms are out. Does my head in- s'not my fault." Ysilla pouts, batting those heavy, dark lashes at him. She crosses her arms under her head, resting her cheek along them sleepily.

The giant rock on her ring finger sparkles under the light illuminating the mat, casting small facets of iridescent shine. It was his grandmother's, reset with a diamond large enough to take Ysilla's breath away when he proposed. But the fact that it'd been in his family for generations was all it took to make her burst into tears once it was settled forever on her finger.

Cregan rolls to his side, cupping Ysilla's cheek softly in his hand. He kisses her, finally, their little ruse long laid to rest.

"Rickon still good sleeping over at your mum's this weekend?"

Ysilla nods, their noses brushing softly. "Called him before I got here- he's already beat Joff and Jace at Mario Kart. He's happy as a clam."

He smiles, pressing a longer kiss to his wife's mouth, enjoying the lingering sweetness from the energy drinks he gives her shit for drinking.

"Come on, let's go home." He rolls to his knees, an athlete's stamina never more apparent than after a fuck session so insane, it could send her sleeping for a year.

"I can't feel my legs, baby. Give me a minute." Ysilla murmurs, wondering how likely it would be that she could convince her husband into letting her take a power nap.

He rubs her back, maneuvering her gently to pull her bra back into place. He drifts lower, untangling her leggings from where they'd managed to wedge one pant leg over her entire trainer. He picks up a scrap of blue cotton, smaller than even a baby bib.

"What're even the point of these?" Cregan lets the torn strings of her knickers sway from the tip of his finger like a flag, the barely there material looking absurd in comparison to his paw of a hand. Ysilla looks behind her, laughing at how absurd he looks.

"Other than the fact that they're easy to tear off of me? No panty lines- good to wear with my leggings."

He snorts, tossing the ruined fabric over the ropes and somewhere into the now dark gym. He'll have to remember to get those before they go, unless he wants his janitor to shit a fucking brick.

He starts to shimmy her leggings back up her calves but Ysilla whines, kicking her feet softly.

"Can't- I'm gonna leak through them."

His creamy spend trickles slowly from between her sex swollen lips and Cregan thinks back to earlier, remembers every lewd thought that'd raced through him while Ysilla rode him. How he only wanted to taste her, how he wanted to bury his tongue so deep, he'd eat the soul straight out of her.

He doesn't have a sweat rag, and he won't let a good meal go to waste.

"Let me clean you up then." His whisper is hot between her legs and he doesn't give her a chance to crawl away. His mouth slots over her pussy, tongue swiping up her puffy folds, swallowing everything down on a greedy tongue.

The sounds she makes, even though he's heard them a thousand times, never fail to have pride burstin' from him like sunshine. His wife, his lass, the only person he'll ever accept defeat from. Not his opponent, but his equal, in this life and the next.

if any of you make fun of my attempt at British slang, i will tell your mom

#hotd #house of the dragon #modern hotd #cregan stark #modern cregan stark #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark smut #ysilla targaryen #hotd smut

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jennistarjs · 1 day ago

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Rings of Power Characters - would they get in a bar fight, why, and would they win?

(Should probably add I do not condone violence but fantasy bar fights a la Pirates of the Caribbean are the literal best. Also I added Camnir to the list because he is baby)

Galadriel – She invented bar fights. She’s also the reason bartenders cut people off when they’ve had too much to drink. Someone looks at her funny and the next thing they know, they’re hanging off a light fixture with half their teeth missing. The bar owners would blacklist her but they’re secretly way too impressed (and scared).

Elrond – He’s definitely the type to de-escalate a situation with words, even with several drinks inside him, but there are some things that just set him off. If you say anything bad about his family, Elrond will throw down. He’s pretty unstoppable too. People have learned to duck under tables when he gets a particular look on his face.

Gil-galad – He has people to do the fighting for him now. On the rare occasion someone doesn’t know who he is and tries to cause trouble, they’ll be pummelled to the ground by three bodyguards before Gil-galad has finished his whiskey.

Celebrimbor – He’s a gentleman and he doesn’t start fights, but he also has a temper and he won’t back down. If you stepped on his toe and tried to blame him for it, you’d be in for a bad time. He looks unassuming but dude works in the smithy all day - you just know one punch from him would knock you into the middle of next week.

Cirdan – Fighting is a young elf’s game and Cirdan mostly stays out of it. If you tried to start trouble with him, Cirdan would somehow arrange matters so that you injured yourself trying to fight him. Then he would shake his head at you disapprovingly while you were picking yourself up off the ground and somehow make you feel ashamed of yourself.

Arondir – He will give you two chances to back off when he tells you to. Then he will make your life a living hell for several excruciating minutes and not feel an ounce of guilt about it. He owes several bars compensation for the arrow holes he has put in their walls.

Camnir – Baby boy would never start a fight and wouldn’t know what to do when he’s in one, but that doesn’t matter because if anyone tried to pick on him, they’ll have to deal with several very possessive, very mean Elves. As a result, people are generally friendly to Camnir despite his wide-eyed innocence, so he thinks bars are the nicest places in the world.

Durin IV – See, Durin looks like trouble and has in fact been kicked out of bars for instigating a fight even though he was in the toilet the whole time, but actually he’s usually the one talking people down from doing something stupid. He has a low tolerance for bullshit though, particularly after several beers, and he will absolutely break a pool cue over someone’s head if he thinks they’re being moronic. Or if they messed with Disa. Or if Elrond asks for backup. Okay, maybe he does get in a few fights...

Disa – People don’t really bother Disa because they like and respect her so much (and they’re scared of Durin), but if some idiot does decide to push their luck, she’ll be twisting their balls in one hand in a second, and they’ll be grovelling on their knees before Durin even gets the pool cue off the wall.

King Durin III – In his younger days, King Durin was well known as a troublemaker and even today the older bar owners will find themselves reaching for the panic button when he walks through the door. But he professes those days are behind him, apart from that one time someone cut the queue and he had to break all their fingers. But that was one time, you know? He’s totally retired now.

Narvi – Like most Dwarves, he considers a good bar fight as a kind of therapy. He’d happily throw punches all day and then go off with his victims to get a kebab when the bar closes. There’s no malice in anything he does and if you land a punch on him, well done you!

Theo – He is absolutely the type to get into some stupid argument with someone and refuse to back down even if it’s clear it’s not going to end well. He couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag and always gets the crap beaten out of him. You’d think after the first twenty times, he would learn his lesson. He doesn’t.

Estrid – She’s pretty chill until she feels threatened. If some creep tries to come onto her, she will react like a cornered animal and go for the eyes. She’s pretty proud of some of the injuries she’s caused in the past.

Isildur – He really doesn’t want to get in any more fights, the police have come round his dad’s house far too many times, and yet somehow he is always dragged into them by his friends or Estrid. He seems to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to explain his actions to authorities. He’s pretty scrappy when he’s in a fight though, and you won’t soon forget it.

Elendil – Dude has the same calm demeanour as Gil-galad when it comes to trouble but none of the backup. People always seem to want a pick a fight with him. When he can’t talk them out of it, he will fight, but he will incapacitate them with minimal damage to their person or the surroundings. The man definitely knows several types of martial arts.

Miriel – She will ignore trouble for as long as she can (usually caused by creeps trying to hit on her or idiots who don’t realise she can’t see), and then when she has reached her limit, she will drain her drink and smash the glass over the person’s head without a single word. She’s known as ‘Glassbreaker’ in several bars, and people love and fear her.

Earien – What she lacks in strength and size, she makes up for in spirit. She has quite a high tolerance for bullshit and will usually just argue with someone all night without resorting to violence, but if you’ve truly pissed her off, she will be on you before you know what’s happening. People who have seen her like that flinch whenever she makes any sudden movements.

Valandil – The king of getting involved in others problems and somehow always getting the worst of it. He’ll be the one going to A&E even though he didn’t exchange more than two sentences with his attacker.

Pharazon – He will sit around loudly debating politics and espousing his horrible views about the world until someone finally gets fed up and punches him in the face. Somehow he’s always surprised by it every time.

Kemen – Kemen once walked into a bar and twenty minutes later it was on the news as the location of one of the worst fights in history. He never stepped foot in another bar again.

Nori and Poppy – They will definitely unintentionally cause some kind of accident (they dropped a drink and someone slipped, they stood on a toe or two) and end up in the middle of a scuffle. They’re pretty good at getting a few well aimed punches in and then running for cover before things get too serious. Most of the time people have no idea what hit them.

The Stranger – This guy always ends up getting the wrong end of the stick and unintentionally insulting the person he’s talking to. Then when the inevitable fight ensues, he will win by accidentally tipping over something that knocks the person unconscious. People soon learn to give him a wide berth – not because he’s dangerous but because danger just seems to hang around him.

Tom Bombadil – Was he even at the bar? You were sure you saw him a second ago. Yet now there’s nothing beside you but an empty chair, several coins on the table and the faint smell of oranges and sheep dung in the air.

Adar – He likes to pretend he’s too old for such nonsense but in reality it really doesn’t take much to set him off. Insult his children one time, and he’s on his feet. He will always win a fight, and in the most efficient yet unnecessarily brutal manner. No one comes back for a second round and they always learn their lesson.

Sauron – Sauron doesn’t start fights, Sauron manipulates others into starting fights and then sits back and watches while drinking a fruity cocktail with a paper umbrella in it. 🍹

#rings of power #elrond #galadriel #sauron #durin iv #the rings of power #rop characters do things #rop crack #rop

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queen-of-gotham · 7 hours ago

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Naruto guys finding out their going to be a dad? Let’s gooo.

Featuring: Naruto, Sasuke, Sai, Shikamaru, Choji, Neji, Lee, Kiba, Shino, Gaara, and Kankuro

Notes from the Batcave: Do we want a version with the Sensei’s? Idk, considering it. LMK in the comments 🙂‍↕️

🍥Naruto Uzamaki🍥

He’s thrilled. Like, runs full-speed through the village yelling about it thrilled. Immediately hugs you so tight he lifts you off the ground, and his first question is, “Do you think they’ll have your eyes?”

He spends the next hour crying, laughing, and trying to brainstorm baby names, Then panic hits, “WAIT. I NEED TO BE HOKAGE BEFORE THEY’RE BORN SO THEY CAN BE PROUD OF ME.”

You have to talk him down. Multiple times.

Prepare for a very clingy, very protective Naruto who has never been happier.

🐍Sasuke Uchiha🐍

He freezes. Stone-faced silence while his mind spirals: Can I protect them? Will I be enough? Can I fix the world before they come into it?

But then you take his hand and place it over your stomach and whisper to him again, “you’re going to be a father.”

His voice cracks when he says, “I already am.”

He’ll sit with you in quiet awe for a long time, holding you like you’re the most precious thing left in the world. Which, to him, you are.

🎨 Sai 🎨

He smiles in that slightly unnerving but sweet Sai way, “So you’re growing the baby is in your belly? That’s very artistic.”

He wants to draw your baby bump every week to track progress. He reads all the parenting books and takes notes in the margins.

He’s a bit robotic with his excitement at first, but he starts leaving little sketches on your pillow of you holding a baby, until the night he admits, “I never thought I’d have a real family. Thank you.”

🦌Shikamaru Nara🦌

Blank stare.

A pause.

“… troublesome.”

But he’s blushing. You can feel the silent internal freakout. He’s already calculating diaper costs, sleep schedule shifts, and the probability of your kid inheriting your temper.

He sits beside you, hand on your stomach, and after a long silence, “Guess I’ll have to be a better man than my dad was.”

He thinks his dad was amazing, it’s a big title to live up to for him.

🦋 Choji Akimichi 🦋

Sweet boy FREEZES with a handful of snacks halfway to his mouth, “W-Wait… like… pregnant pregnant?”

you nod, he drops the food and scoops you up immediately. He’s crying, you’re crying, he’s already making a food plan, “They’re going to eat so well. Akimichi babies need strength! You’re going to be glowing, babe. I’ll cook every day. I’ll learn new recipes. Oh my god- can we name them after snacks?!”

He starts working out more too, lowkey preparing to be the softest but strongest dad ever. He’ll spoil you rotten.

☯️Neji Hyuga☯️

Stunned silence. He’s good at keeping his emotions in check, but not this time. You’ll see the flash of fear in his eyes (because of his family, his past, his losses)… but also overwhelming joy.

He kneels in front of you like you’re sacred, palms gentle on your waist, “I will protect both of you. Always.”

You catch him watching you sleep with a softness that makes your heart ache.

🍃 Rock Lee🍃

He SCREAMS.

Then sprints into a handstand and yells, “I WILL RAISE THIS CHILD WITH THE POWER OF YOUTH!!”

The training plans begin immediately (for him, not the fetus… yet). He vows to be the most passionate, present, and honorable father ever born.

Cue Gai-sensei crying beside him, clinging to you both like, “I AM GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER!” 😭

Lee builds a mini training course in your backyard for the baby despite you telling him the baby won’t be able to use it for a couple years.

🐺 Kiba Inuzuka🐺

Oh, you don’t get to tell him. He already knows, way before you do. The second your scent shifts ever so slightly, he’s squinting at you. Sniffing the air. Akamaru whines knowingly.

“You smell different.”

“What?”

“You smell like… a pup.”

Kiba gets increasingly smug as you brush it off. He buys prenatal vitamins before you even take a test.

Once it’s confirmed, he beams, “told you. My nose never lies.”

He starts building a crib and teaching Akamaru to guard the baby like the ninja hound soldier he is.

Also, he 100% brags to everyone and cries when no one’s looking.

This man also gets super protective. Growls at anyone who looks at you too long. ☠️

🐞 Shino Aburame 🐞

Shino stares at you silently. For so long that you’re like “Shino??”

“My bugs already sensed the hormonal change. They didn’t want to alarm you.”

“EXCUSE ME WHAT??”

He steps forward, gently places a hand on your stomach, and murmurs something quietly to his insects like he’s introducing them to the newest member of the hive.

He’s very calm on the surface, but he upgrades the security of your home overnight and starts researching baby-proofing techniques even though you’re 5 weeks along.

“They will grow up feeling safe. That is all that matters.”

Also he’s very excited for the baby to be big enough that he can show them cool bugs.

🏜️Gaara No Sabaku🏜️

He panics internally. This is the Kazekage. His first instinct is to withdraw, scared he won’t be good enough or that the baby won’t love him given his past. But when you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, he melts.

“I never thought… I’d be allowed to have something like this.”

He immediately starts researching what kind of emotional environment a child needs, how to break generational trauma, and what not to do as a father.

He writes letters to the baby in a journal every night.

⚙️Kankuro No Sabaku⚙️

First reaction, “… wait. For real?”

Second reaction, “YOU’RE HAVING MY KID!?”

He’s grinning, stammering, half-panicked and half-excited. Pulls you into a tight hug and laughs with this slightly unhinged joy like he can’t believe this is real.

“I gotta make ‘em a puppet. A safe one. One that shoots confetti or somethin’- oh shit, what if they hate puppets?!”

He wants to be a “fun dad” but you’ll catch him baby proofing every inch of the house and sleeping with one eye open like a guard dog.

Deep down, he’s terrified he won’t be good enough, but the way he holds you while whispering promises to the bump says otherwise. 🥺

✨Join the taglist✨

Taglist: @ramielll @xdrakesboyfriend

🍥Naruto Masterlist🍥 🦇Return to the Batcave🦇

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vitaspera · 2 months ago

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unhinged calix / viorel yapping commences..

#[ section ] ★ calix !#where do i begin with him 💔 genuinely has the absolute WORST time ever hes looking like Y/N or smth #except he wasnt sold to one direction he got sold to the fucking cryo archon 😭 pierro’s ass was just like ‘hey kid wanna join the fatui 😊’#calix is the youngest of four children.. (mostly) infinitely spoiled and his mothers undeniable favorite 😞#the personality switch from pre to post abyss journey is so visible 😪 pre-abyss calix was all adventurous and world curious and naive #just like every child is ofc! he was excited abt everything even if it was shoveling snow w his dad or running errands w his sisters #when he’s 13 he meets pierro 😕 first time he’s let out alone and he meets the man who is inadvertently going to ruin his life #his father was apart of the military and he would always beg him to tell stories of his “adventures” bc to him it was so exciting #he’s 13 and wide eyed but not a complete idiot so when pierro offers to train him he makes up an excuse and runs away #so pierro’s grown ass decides to just terrorize him as a recruitment tactic but calix is literally not budging at all 😭#he actually believes the guy is crazy #so instead of trying to get through to him in a typical kind-manipulative way pierro pulls out an old trick and throws calix into the abyss #unprovoked and without him knowing and little calix who has no battle experience at all stuck in the abyss for an ENTIRE MONTH #he’s 14 and clueless and alone and trapped and cold and has to scavenge on his own which obviously causes sm trauma 💔#but one month didnt actually pass in teyvat so to everyone else he just disappeared for one day and reappeared traumatized out of his mind #and also with a personality change #he isnt immediately super violent but he is visibly closed off and distant #his parents just see it as typical teen angst and his father has to take an extended leave for work #at which point he just gets worse #the once rather cheerful boy who appeared so bright to the world was now experiencing uncontrollable fits of anger #he was reckless and quick to solve any issue with his fists.. suddenly it was like he could not do anything without a growing temper rising #by that point his attitude towards pierro had changed for the worst :( what was formerly annoyance became fear #and since he was 10x more vulnerable pierro basically decided to make a completely unfair bargain with him #pierro is all like ‘your father was in the military wasnt he? join the fatui and you can be just like him!!!’#‘or i’ll make sure you guys go hungry this winter 😊’#(he doesn’t actually say that but he heavily implies it and calix is absolutely terrified)#he feels like he has to listen to everything he says because if not his mother and sisters are at risk 😞#without his dad around he feels its his responsibility to take care of them 💔#so with that little 16 year old calix is recruited into the fatui! dawning the given code name “sage” (from pierro)#and while its terrible 😣 while he hates it and still despises pierro he basically becomes the tsaritsa’s weapon of destruction

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chirpsythismorning · 2 years ago

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☎️🎲 🤼‍♂️ ✈️🚪 ➡️ 🫀🎮⌛️

The Promise by When In Rome

previous ⏪ now playing ⏩ next back to playlist

#byler #stranger things #bizarre love triangle playlist #mike wheeler #mike's pov #this song has so much going on i don't even know where to start #'when you need a friend don't look to a stranger. you know in the end i'll always be there'#feels very reminiscent of mike's insecurity at the end of s3 about will finding another party aka new friends aka a new best friend #angela might not have been who mike thought she was but that insecurity that will moved on from the party (mike) is still present #mostly because mike still doesn't know about will's true life in lenora (probably too scared to find out will is happier outside of hawkins #and so he wants to make clear to will that he's always going to be there #'and when you're in doubt. and when you're in danger. take a look all around. and i'll be there'#pretty self explanatory.#'when your day is through. and so is your temper. you know what to do. i'm gonna always be there'#even if will breaks down (s3/s4) and tells mike everything that he's feeling and it backfires #mike is always going to try to make it right (minus s3 blatantly... for angsty endgame reasons...)#'i'm sorry but i'm just thinking of the right words to say. i know they don't sound the way i planned them to be'#mike may not be the best with words in the moment #but that doesn't mean what he's feeling and thinking is foreign to him #he's constantly battling his feelings and how to communicate them. like that's the whole problem in and of itself #sometimes (usually) when mike's put on the spot he lashes out and then he has to overcorrect it #but will is really the one that mike makes the effort right after wronging him to promise they will get through it together #he might not be able to fully realize (accept) the implications of that right now...#but what the promise is telling us is is that no matter what they go through #mike will always see will in his future at the end of all of this #the ending of s3 was the promise hidden in the subtext of their friendship and s4 continues that #'i promise you. i promise you i will'#'we will. we will.'#4x04 #gif

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suksatoru · 3 months ago

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smile for the camera! — ft. katsuki bakugo

katsuki bakugo is tricked into smiling during an interview when they bring up your name!

you didn't notice it at first, but katsuki bakugo developed smile lines after meeting you.

he didn't smile much as a kid. most of his baby pictures consisted of him either crying, screaming, or making some sort of vulgar gesture at the camera. it only got worse as he entered his teen years. his temper calmed down a bit, sure. but the chances of catching katsuki bakugo smiling were as rare as catching lightening in a bottle.

the paparazzi were well aware of the famous dynamight barely having any pictures of him smiling out on the internet—there were three singular photos out there that consisted of him with a somewhat pleased expression on his face, and the only reason he looked that way was because you were in frame right beside him.

it seemed to be a well known fact that getting bakugo to smile was nearly impossible—but the current interviewer sitting in front of bakugo was determined.

"great explosion murder god dynamight—or, well, just dynamight sir—what would you say is your favorite part about being a hero?"

katsuki stops himself from rolling his eyes, already anticipating the rest of the interview's questions as he answers flatly

"the glory. the strength. and kicking ass—make that the first thing, actually."

"okay! now, i'd like to ask you a few more things..." the young woman chirps up, and katsuki sighs and tells her to continue. the next dozens of questions were just as he'd predicted—stuff like asking who his biggest inspiration was, what kind of merch his team would be putting out in the upcoming months, and what he thought his weaknesses were.

"—and i don't have weakness. i'm fucking perfect, ask anybody. now, are we done here?" he snaps, rolling his shoulders as he moves to stand up, eyes flitting towards the exit with nothing but disinterest

he'd spent an entire hour answering these stupid questions when he could've been out fighting villains, finishing up his paperwork, literally anything else would be more time fulfilling than answering baseless questions like these ones.

the interviewer's eyes widen when katsuki stands up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head with a grunt before she quickly interrupts him

"what about your wife!"

"....eh?"

"your wife!" she says, quickly collecting herself

"could you tell us about her? it seems like many of your fans are interested in learning more regarding you two! you have a very private relationship, so it's only natural for people to be curious!"

katsuki blinks, absorbing her words. slowly, his feet—once pointed towards the exit—shift ever so slightly towards the woman

"well...what do you want to know?"

and that's how katsuki found himself sitting in the same seat another hour later. except this time, he had the dorkiest grin ever plastered on his face.

"oh i knew i wanted to marry her the first time she yelled at me—she was pretty feisty back in our ua days. still is, but now all the insults she throws my way usually have the word babe or honey added at the end. she has a clever mouth, i'm warnin' ya—you don't wanna get into an argument with her."

the interviewer laughs, and katsuki decides he might come back to this station another time if they asked. he's... well, simply put, having fun.

he leaves after another forty minutes, only because his manager literally dragged him out of the room—he had a meeting to attend and then his patrol—but he left waving at the camera crew and in a far more better mood than he'd arrived in.

katsuki spends the rest of the day getting through all of his hero duties, the interview slowly being pushed to the back of his mind as he focuses on finishing all his work and coming home to you.

it's nearly nine pm when he opens the door to your shared apartment—groaning about how tired he was and how you better not be asleep—when he hears your padded feet running towards the main entryway to greet him

"you're home!"

he offers you a slanted grin, opening his arms for a hug

"missed ya today," he mutters, pressing a kiss onto your scalp as you peer up at him with a grin—looking a little too happy.

"what're ya cheesing so hard about?"

you hum, tapping the back of his thigh with a knowing grin

"your ma called. guess what she told me?"

katsuki groans, shrugging off his gauntlets and boots before tugging you towards the couch in the living room, flopping onto it while mumbling under his breath and pulling you towards his chest

"you two devils were probably gosspin' about me, that old hag better not have sent you any pictures or i swear—"

"she told me to turn on the tv and head to channel seven."

katsuki pauses, staring at you with furrowed brows. well, it couldn't have been him on channel seven, right? he didn't have any crazy villains to deal with for once, so it wouldn't make sense for him to be on one of the main channels today.

"what..."

he smacks his forehead with an embarrassed groan when you pull out your phone and show him your recording of his interview. you're practically bouncing on the couch beside him with glee as you shove the screen in his face

"you're smiling! they made it the cover of their video, too—gosh you look so cute when you smile! and you're talking about me!"

katsuki huffs, but watches you play back the video with a cheesy grin on your face. your round eyes are illuminated by the screen, and you re-watch the video with your lips parted in awe

"you got the real thing right in front of you but you'd rather watch that...i see how it is." he grumbles, something similar to a pout forming on his face when you still don't acknowledge him—too busy watching his video as you bring the phone closer to your face

"i'm going to screenshot your smiling face in this video and make it my profile picture on insta—"

he snatches the phone out of your hand, powering it off before tossing it aside and wrapping his strong arms around your waist in an iron grip

"i'll make that one of you snoring and drooling all over my chest my profile picture if you even think about it."

"i'm pretty sure half the comments on that video literally have your smiling face as their profile picture."

"...well that's a lot of people i'm gonna have to sue."

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rosy-hollow · 1 month ago

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“Katsuki you can’t keep doing this to yourself!”

“Jesus baby, you know that this is my job,I don’t have a choice! I can’t just stop savin’ people ‘cause my girlfriend wants me to.”

It went on like that for a while, back and forth, between “You can’t just keep coming home like this, it’s not healthy!” and “It’s my fuckin’ job-what the fuck do ya want me to do about it?!” as well as every single variation of the two.

It was exhausting.

You were understandably worried sick about your pro hero boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou, you always had been. You loved him to death, you always would, but your heart simply couldn’t take the sight of him coming home bruised and bloodied and on the brink of death.

You believed in him, you really did, but the little voice in the back of your head never seemed to stop asking the one question you wish never had to be asked in the first place.

What if it finally became too much? What if one day, he didn’t come home back to you?

The scenarios that voice would create were almost as bad as having to experience it in real life, and Katsuki’s blatant disregard for your feelings only made it worse.

To him, you didn’t believe in him. Your worries made him feel weak - your worries made it seem like his skills were incompetent, as if he wasn’t enough. After all, when you see a hero like All Might on the screen, no one is simply worried for his wellbeing, because they know he’ll win.

Why don’t you think he can win?

The two of you don’t speak to each other for the rest of the night, still sleeping in the same bed but turned away from each other.

And it was hard, trying to fall asleep without the other, so accustomed to falling asleep in each other’s arms, but you finally managed to do so.

However, without Katsuki’s presence to soothe you in the night, the voice in your head decided to take the reins on your dreams.

Except it was much more worse than that.

You were on a battle field, there was so much happening except there was nothing happening at the same time.

You can’t see your hands, or the rest of your body, eerily making you a spectator to the chilling scene around you.

The ground was slate grey, and then it wasn’t, crimson blood staining the ground until all you could see was red.

You try to scream, but you can’t because you have no body, and consequently, no mouth.

Still you persist, opening an invisible mouth to let out soundless screams in the hope that someone, anyone, can get you out of this soulless empty hellhole.

And then you see him.

It’s Katsuki.

He looks fine, unharmed except for the hollow look in his eyes.

Your heart aches and you reach out an invisible hand to do something, to apologize for losing your temper, anything to have him back.

But the moment you blink, Katsuki isn’t fine, or unharmed anymore.

Now, there was a gaping hole in his chest, and half of his face was stained the same crimson that was splattered across the ground.

You could only watch in horror as Katsuki’s life was sucked out of him, seeping out through the blood that dripped out of his body, staining the ground even further, pooling at his feet.

You scream even more, but nothing comes out. You can’t do anything, and the love of your life is bleeding out and you’re just standing there.

Shit!

You didn’t realize you were crying until you feel two strong hands gently shaking you awake, finding yourself buried in Katsuki’s chest, clutching onto his shirt like it was your lifeline. Or in this case, his.

“Baby? I’m here, love, I’m here… everything’s okay…” he murmurs, his gruff voice soothing you as he strokes your hair, allowing you to soak his shirt with your tears, not minding it at all.

You look at him, and his heart breaks at the broken look in your eyes.

“Katsuki…?” you whisper, and he looks at your with those piercing vermillion eyes, ridden with guilt.

“Baby, m'so sorry I talked to ya like that…. I was an idiot. .” he whispers angrily, but not towards you. Never at you.

How had he not realized how bad your anxiety was?

He sighs - he wasn’t the focus right now, you were.

He brings a large and gentle hand around, cupping the back of your head and tenderly pressing it against his chest.

“Feel that baby? That's my heart, beating for you. And only for you, hear me?”

You giggle softly, feeling your heart warm. The two of you fall asleep together like that, and the little voice in your head finally gives you a few words of assurance.

Katsuki’s okay.

A/N: what's a girl gotta do to get a man like him 😔

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 87,635 others

ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

view all 1,207 comments

username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never 😤

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

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The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

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The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡

landonorris I know your reasons

↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

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↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

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landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

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↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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username1 so iconic tbh

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username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

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theobservatory · 4 months ago

Text

Waitin All Day｡⁠.ﾟ★ ˎˊ˗

｡⁠☆Synopsis: how they confess

｡⁠☆Cw: Grovelling, low self esteem, you take a slight backseat in this one bc it's about THEM confessing not you, suggestive on Bruce's part, you're in a bra on Bruce's part but gn besides for that

｡⁠☆CH: Tim ☆ Jason ☆ Dick ☆ Bruce

✧Bruce✧

Confession in the heat of the moment.

You honestly had no idea Bruce liked you. Sure, you've had a crush on him for going on a year now, but he's so gently tempered and naturally flirty. This man can hide a gunshot wound like it's no problem, let alone some romantic feelings.

You've watched him flirt his way into the pants of all types of people. Some for fun, some for missions, some for WE. Hell, it's not like two haven't done your fair share of fooling around either.

It's not like anyone could blame you. He's rich, kind, and so so handsome. Anyone would do the same in your shoes.

Most people would also advise against falling in love with the most eligible bachelor in all of Gotham, however. In fact, if you were giving advice to anyone else, you would tell them that this is only bound to end in heartbreak.

Yet here you are, drooling over one of your closest, richest, promiscuous, friends. Like an absolute idiot.

Bruce, on the other hand has been head over heels since you first met. He noticed immediately when you started reciprocating.

Did he start flirting with you way more, just to see you flustered? It's a possibility that he won't admit to, if asked. Did he ever actually act on his feelings besides for a couple way too intense make-outs and dry humping? No, he did not.

He's a vigilante, you're a civilian. It just wouldn't work. Even if you do know his secret, his life is dangerous, and he wants danger very far away from you.

Still, he's always been a selfish man. He ends up confessing to you anyway.

It's spur of the moment, words he didn't mean to say. Despite the fear of dragging into his life, of you being hurt or kidnapped, he doesn't regret it. He could never regret loving you.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're sitting on his lap while he's laid down on his bed. Your fingers drag from button to button on his shirt, teasingly unclasping them as you lowly ramble on about your day. You're telling a bunch of benign stories, things that don't matter, that Bruce would care to hear about any other time than now.

His pupils are blown a little as his hands hold your hips in place. He's looking up at you with a fondly playful expression, a tiny lit of arousal dancing in his features.

"What about you, Bruce?" You ask, fingers teasing the second to last button on his shirt. "How was your day?"

"Mine? Nothing but meetings on top of meetings, I'm afraid."

His hands begin to roam, slipping under your shirt to tease the clasp of your bra. He does the action like it's absent minded, like he isn't even thinking about where his hands are, but you know he's aware of what he's doing.

You lean down and kiss a few lines up his hard chest. The light stutters in his chest only egg you on. It's like a shock of boldness shoots through you as the tip of your tongue licks at his skin. You might regret that later, but now your hands come up to ghost over his nipples under the guise of shifting his button down.

"I'm sorry your day's been so boring." You murmur into his chest.

"It's much better now."

"Yeah?"

His hand finally unclasps your bra.

"Mhm."

You're flipped suddenly. When your vision is straightened out Bruce's shirt is completely gone, leaving him bare on top of you. It's not easy to bury the heat crawling from your throat to your face, but you manage. Eventually.

Your shirt is next to go, exposing you to the chill of the room. Goosebumps instantly appear on your shoulders, but Bruce is there to rub them away.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers. "Exquisite."

You think that's a bit romantic for a friendly fuck, but okay, you're not complaining. Bruce is the man of your dreams, you'll take whatever placating words he wants to give. You can play pretend. It's like roleplay that hurts your heart afterwards.

Bruce must see a shift in your body language, or maybe he can tell you're not taking his compliment seriously. He frowns deep, an upset furrow in his brow.

"I'm serious. I've never been with anyone as tantalizing as you." His hands run up your shoulders to trap your wrists above your head. "You're beautiful, kind, charming." He plants a kiss to your throat with every compliment. "You're everything anyone could ever want."

You begin to slightly tune out his words. The soft dominance he's displaying is sending you into subspace faster than you want it to. That soft and fuzzy part of your brain is beckoning you back with Bruce's gentle, loving hands. It's too hard to shove it away.

"Do you understand that I'd make you mine if I could?"

"Yours?"

He pauses. You don't see the look of understanding cross his face when he realizes you're slipping away from him. You're turning into a needy puddle under his hands faster than you know, and quicker than you ever have. You barely process when he locks eyes with you. That heady fondness in his eyes that makes you grow warm, turning your already slowly melting brain into jello.

"Mine." He repeats. "I'd take you around to every party, every gala. Wear you on my arm to show off how lucky I am. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

Your lips lock, and one of his hands runs down your sides, feeling you. He leaves tingles behind the pads of his fingers.

"I'll tell you again later, I swear. I'll repeat it as many times as you need me to."

✧Dick✧

A confession connoisseur.

You've been dancing around each other for months. It's painful for everyone involved, including yourselves.

It's not like you both aren't aware that you like each other. You'd have to be blind not be aware of how gone you are for each other.

You both face constant questions. "Are you guys together?" "When are you going to start dating?" "You know he likes you, right?"

Which yes, of course you know he likes you. The man follows you around like a big puppy, and he won't let you open doors if he's around. He basically already acts like your boyfriend.

Heaven forbid you flirt with someone while you're out with him. He's behind you looming, looking just like the big bat himself. So mean, and so protective for someone who isn't dating you.

You always make as much known as well.

You're happy to take another guy's number if he gets his ass in gear. Dick's "You're not actually gonna call him, are you?" Goes completely ignored.

His confession takes forever because he is determined to make it perfect. Richard Grayson-Wayne is a boyfriend extraordinaire, and he wants to make sure you're aware. Hell, if he could swing it he'd ride in on a horse, swoop you up, and ride off into the sunset, like some sort of cheesy Disney movie.

And they say chivalry is dead? Wrong. It's right here.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're staying the manor for tonight. Dick is home visiting his family, and as usual, you're glued to his side. Whether it was by choice this time is anyone's guess.

Everyone's out on patrol, Alfred's down in the cave. You're alone in this giant house, besides Damian's various dogs and cats, of course. You took the chance to bond with Titus, you're both down in the family moving room, lounging.

Then a text pings on your phone, causing Titus to sniff at you.

Where r u ?

You roll your eyes.

The manor. Where else ?

No I mean wat room ?

Movie room. The small one.

Perfect. Look under the couch

You do, Titus staring at you with judgement when your back cracks from leaning over the arm.

There's a folded up piece of paper with a heart and your name. "Check the kitchen ♡"

Your phone pings again.

Have fun :)))

From there is a trail of clues. Different pieces of paper. Some with simple riddles attached, others with blatant directions, a few with gifts attached to them. At some point you even have to find Alfred to give you another little slip of paper, much to your embarrassment.

The end of the trail leads you straight to Dick. He's got a soft look on his face, his hair slick, but framing his chiseled face. He's wearing a suit as well, a gorgeous outfit in his hand, clearly tailored for you.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"Grayson."

"Ouch, so cold to the man who's about to ask you out."

You smirk, a lovey-dovey emotion rolling around your chest. "Well, I'm waiting."

Dick pulls you toward him, one hand in yours, the other around your waist. He pulls you in so close your nose touch, and then slots himself in the crook of your shoulder and neck.

He whispers your name, but it comes out like a doggish whine.

"We're not even together yet, and I think I like you too much. My heart's beating so fast, it's making me sick. You're my favorite person, you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with- or at least, spend whatever time you'll give me, with you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

You're speechless for a moment. You're clutching him, mouth agape, unable to see each other's faces.

"Baby, love of my life, will you go out with me?"

"Oh Dick, of course I will."

"Great, because I made dinner reservations for two, and it'd be awkward if I showed up by myself."

✧Jason✧

Thinks you deserve a confession, but is as emotionally constipated as his father, unfortunately.

You know he's trying to confess months before he actually does it. You can see it in the way his fingers linger on your skin, how his cheeks flush when you catch him staring. It's adorable watching this giant wall of a man stumble over you like a little school girl.

You also know Jason is much too proud to allow you to confess first. He would never forgive you if you beat him to the punch, so you wait patiently. Well, maybe not patiently. You're complaining to any friend that will listen to you, griping over how cute it is, but how it's driving you mad that he won't just ask. There's no chance in hell you would reject him, and Jason should know that! You've made yourself incredibly obvious.

Still, he spends months trying and failing to confess to you. He'll start, quiet but firm, a little flush on his cheeks. But the moment he looks at you it all falls apart. His heart stutters, causing his brain to stutter, causing his mouth to stutter, and then he just ends up covering your face with his hand.

You pick fun at him as he tells you to shut up, but you both know he'll have to deal with it until he actually finally confesses.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"Hey."

You know just by his tone where this is going, you've already played this song and dance twice this month. Still, you tilt your head towards him, giving him your utmost attention.

"Hey yourself."

You're sitting on your couch as he's leaning against your wall. His arms are crossed, eyes averted to the ground. It's weird to see such a big man looking so... Tiny...

Jason huffs out a mirthless laugh. "Sorry, I just- I... Fuck."

"Jason?"

"No, don't talk or I'll lose my nerve again." You smother a giggle with your hand. "Don't laugh either, asshole."

You open your mouth to say sorry, but think better of it at the last second. Your mouth shuts with an audible click.

"Th-Thanks. Listen, 'm sorry I haven't been... The most forthcoming with my emotions. I'm trying, but it's- fuck- it's hard, but I'm trying. I'm trying to be better, I want to be better, for you. It's not fair to confess to you when I can't even talk about how I'm feeling, but I'm still doing it anyway because I'm an asshole. God, I'm such an asshole, but-"

"Jason."

"Let me talk, please. I'm an asshole, I'm cruel, unempathetic, and I'm so scared I'm going to hurt you. You deserve everything and more, and I can't even give you half of it, but-but I'm still begging you to give me a chance. Please."

He's made his way over to the couch. His head is pressed onto your knees, his hands squeezing your calves. You press a hand into his thick black curls, gripping the strands as you run your finger through them.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Jason, did you think I was going to say no?"

"Well- no." Really, you can read each other like books at this point. "But I think you should say no. I think if you had any sort of self preservation you'd say no."

"But?"

"But you're the most reckless Gothamite I've ever met, you wouldn't know self preservation if it punched you in the face."

You laugh, and he looks at you with a fond exasperation.

✧Tim✧

Not the confession type.

He's the type to get worked up about the confession. The type to plan and plan and plan until he can't plan anymore, then scrap the entire thing the moment he sees your face.

Because this isn't good enough for you. Nothing is good enough for you. You deserve anything and everything he could ever give, just a 251 step plan? Not enough.

So getting together with Tim is less confession, and more evolution.

It's "I made us coffee" to "let's hold hands" to "I miss you" to "I love you". It's gradual, soft, and easy. Boundaries are pushed in the most gentle way they can be, words are shared in sounds soft enough only you can hear them. It's a cat's type of love, distant, but intimate at the same time.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"I've been thinking about selling my apartment." You say, gazing around at the intermingling of yours and Tim's things.

Your books occupy his bookshelves, and your favorite mug is stacked on top of his dirty dishwasher. The hamper of clothes in the bathroom has your underwear in it, but it's balled up inside one of his shirts. His bedroom smells like your perfume, and his pillowcases smell like your hair products.

Tim's gaze snaps up from his laptop. "I think it'd be good for you to get out of that tiny place anyway." His hand has made its way to your thigh, right above your knee. "It's not like I don't have the room."

"I figured I should tell you first."

Tim's gaze also sweeps around the room. His eyebrow quirks as he turns back to you, making you flush a little. It's not like all your stuff isn't already here. There really wouldn't be a difference in whether you kept your apartment or not, except for how much cash is in your pocket.

"You're sweet." Tim placates, giving your thigh a squeeze before turning back to his work.

Chat here's my confession... I think love confessions are cringe I'm sorry </3 it's just... I'm aro and have vulnerability issues. Tim Drake, you're the only one here who gets it the rest of y'all... Pack it up... (I say as if I'm not the one who wrote this)

Originally was gonna include Damian and Duke but the post was getting laggy.

This is my first time writing Bruce. Did I do well ?

｡⁠☆Requests Open

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thekinslayed · 1 year ago

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Sweet Disposition

summary | Gwayne is welcomed to King's Landing by his beloved niece.

pairing | gwayne hightower x niece!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (m), oral (f), just the tip, cum eating, reader has blue eyes and red hair, gwayne is a classist (and is in love with the niece that looks like him lol), incest, lotsa rubbing, lotsa yappin'

song rec | Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap

wordcount | 3.2k

note | welcome to the stage, gwayne hightower!!! i just had to, u guys. i’m not too sure how the age gap’s looking since idrk how old gwayne is, but do assume they did stuff the first time when the reader was of age :)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“Ah, sweetling!”

You squealed at the sight of him, rising from your seat by the window to rush over to the door. Your uncle grunted in surprise as you jumped into his arms, chuckling amusedly in your embrace. You had waited all day for him. Worry began to fester in your gut when there was no sign of him as the day grew dark. Mother said they must’ve gotten held back by the impending storm that was painting the blue sky a desolate gray. However, the gods have granted you your wish. Soon enough, a flurry of green flashed through the gates of King’s Landing, and Gwayne Hightower made his way to find you.

“What took you so long?” you asked, pouting at him. His chest rumbled against yours in another chuckle, the rich sound of his amusement a lively song.

“My deepest apologies, princess. Some trouble down in the Kingsroad had us going a longer way. No worry now, I am here,” he explained, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Brother dearest keeping you locked in here?”

You scoffed, pulling away from your uncle. His bright blues wandered around the expanse of your chambers, observing the various Valyrian tapestries decorating your walls. He admired you, as you trailed your hands over the cushions of the settee. Pure Targaryen, all except for the vibrant red of your curls. That was all Hightower, much to his delight.

“More so mother than Aegon, he doesn’t give two shits about me. Either way, it’s always him and mother huddled together in those council meetings. And Aemond, when he’s not off to gods know where. War feels pretty boring if you ask me,” you responded, earning a raise of the eyebrow from the redhead.

“It won’t be boring once thousands of men die for your cause, princess, all so you could stay here and sit prettily while we fight for you.” He remained standing as you plopped down onto the plush chaise, reaching for a cherry from the plate of fruit situated on the side table.

It was tart, bursting with its dark juices as you sunk your teeth into its plump flesh. Gwayne watched as you wrapped your lips around the round fruit. It tainted your lips a luscious red, utterly delectable.

Your brows furrowed in offense, while a frown turned your pretty lips downward. “Are you saying I’m useless? If only I were given the chance, I could fly off on my dragon and burn more than half the enemy’s army before you could even engage,” you said, to which Gwayne replied with an understanding nod.

“I know you would, darling, but we cannot have you harmed. You are too precious to be sent off to battle, take it from me,” your uncle replied, placating. You huffed, grumbling under your breath, making Gwayne bite back an amused smirk. Throwing away the cherry’s pit, you grabbed a strawberry this time, wrapping your fingers around its leaves to deliver it in one bite. Your cheeks had hollowed as you sucked on its juices, provocating… inviting. This had wiped the amusement off the elder Hightower’s face, making him clear his throat and shift where he stood, A smirk of your own rose on your lips at this success.

“How does Daeron fare?” you asked nonchalantly. Gwayne shrugged, waving a hand dismissively as he continued his exploration of your apartments. It was quite spacious, though the smallest out of the entire royal family, but it was comfortable enough. It was situated at the far end of the hall, farther away from prying eyes and curious ears.

“You know him, itching to fly back at a moment’s notice,” your uncle informed, to which you nodded in understanding. In truth, you hadn’t spent much time in King’s Landing, only in recent years. When the youngest was sent off to Oldtown to squire, you were tasked with accompanying him as his eldest sister. You were ten and five then, only returning after six years when your grandsire decided it was high time for you to be married off. In your time away from the capital, you had missed much, evidently enough. The war had put any courtship or marriage proposals on pause, which aggravated you. If only you had known, you would have spent your days back in Oldtown happily. With Daeron and your dragons. With Gwayne.

“Not curious as to how I’ve been, little red?” he mused. You smirked at him, tilting your head to the side in feigned curiosity.

“How are you then, uncle? Missing your little squire?” you queried, teasing. Gwayne narrowed his eyes at you, which you mimicked. You were no stranger to your uncle’s tastes. Being away from the careful watch of your grandsire allowed him much freedom to do as he liked, especially when the old codgers were asleep. It was why you hadn’t seen much of him in your first years in Oldtown. The elder Hightower used to barely show an interest in his sister’s children, kept occupied by the pursuit of his merriment. He remained detached from you, up until you accidentally came across some unknown servant stumbling out of his chambers late one night, doublet unbuttoned and breeches unlaced. It sparked your curiosity, had ignited a carnal hunger deep within you. He had opened your eyes to such proclivities, had broken away the conservative mold your faith had locked you in.

Gwayne feigned a sarcastic laugh, walking around you to your window. “Funny.”

One could see the vastness of the horizon past the Bay from this view. The breeze a salty, refreshing prickle. It held little of the nose-scrunching stench of Flea Bottom. You craned your head to watch your uncle face the wind. His hair had gotten longer, you noted. It looked better. “Though I am a bit peeved to travel all this way to not be welcomed by my whole family, but I suppose our new Hand has been keeping your mother company,” he said, a bite of bitterness in his tone.

You stood from your seat, approaching to stand by his side. The greens of your garments matched perfectly, and so did the reds of your tresses. You were always happy to look more Hightower than Targaryen, though your blood always ran hot, much like a dragon’s.

“Jealous much? Perhaps you could ask to join them,” you teased, bumping your elbow into his playfully. Gwayne merely rolled his eyes at your implication. The sight of the Dornishman leaning too close to his sister had confirmed the rising suspicions his father had made him aware of. How convenient it was for him to be made Hand too, granted a position that brought him closer to Alicent’s level. And to share her bed at night. How exhilarating it must be to a man like Ser Criston.

“I’d rather indulge with someone that stirred something in my loins without stepping on my shoulders for leverage in this society, thank you very much.”

“Anyone in mind?”

Gwayne turned to meet your gaze. The blues of your orbs were much like his, icy and deep. He could see the freckles that dotted the bridge of your nose from the proximity, could spend all day to count each one of them. The corners of his lips quirked upwards, as fast as a blink, before pursing.

He regarded you with a gaze so familiar, yet tantalizing enough to warm the meat underneath your skin. The hairs on the back of your head stood tall in attention, prickly underneath his stare. He turned his body to face yours, and you followed suit. Gwayne could almost feel the heat exuding from you, the dragon that you were, from this distance. Almost.

You watched him watch you. The momentary flicker of his eyes to your lips was not overlooked, igniting a spark of excitement deep in your chest. Your feet took a step closer to him, nearly closing the gap. Gwayne mimicked you, taking a step of his own. The air between the two of you grew thick, almost dizzying with tension, but neither of you made the move. This was a familiar game with your uncle. It always left you thirsting for more, had made you an addict. It had you almost sneaking off on your dragon back to Oldtown just for a taste.

“When are you to set off then?” you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You felt his fingertip begin to trace the outline of your curves, though you paid them no mind.

“Well, it was supposed to be on the morrow, but this storm hasn’t worked out in our favor. In two days’ time, perhaps.” He had flattened his hand on the small of your back now, pulling you in subtly. You planted your hands on his chest, caressing the firm planes hidden underneath his doublet. His breath was hot on your face, bringing about a flush on your cheeks.

“So soon?” you pouted. “You’ve only just gotten here.”

A heavy sigh escaped Gwayne’s lips. The skin on his neck was pale as he tilted his head back, littered with a light dusting of freckles. He was close to tipping over, you could feel it.

“War waits for no one, I’m afraid,” he muttered. You hummed in agreement, taking a bolder step by wrapping your arms around his neck. He tutted in warning, to which you only responded with an innocent bat of your lashes.

“We should make most of our time then,” you suggested, preening up at him suggestively. Your uncle bit his lip, pondering, deciding whether it was time for him to succumb to the magnetic pull of his body to yours.

“Princess.” A warning.

“Uncle.” An invitation.

Gwayne pressed his lips to yours, sweet like cherry. You moaned in delight, a budding warmth in your chest bursting at the feel of his kiss. It was hungry, urgent, tainted with the promise of making up for the time you had spent away from each other’s warmth. Roaming hands found your rear, squeezing the plump flesh through your skirts. Your uncle’s wandering lips traveled their way downward, trailing to settle on the length of your neck. A whine echoed through your chambers as he bit on your neck, before smoothing over with his tongue. Something was starting to poke your hip, and your hand descended to cup it, earning a grunt from the redheaded man before you.

A breath was hitched into his throat when you dropped to your knees, making quick work to untie his breeches. The heady scent of his cock was familiar, albeit he was unwashed, and it almost felt like coming home. Gwayne was your home. You wasted no time to press kisses to reddening tip, licking a stripe down the underside of his length before taking him whole. Your desperation was evident in your movements, head bobbing up and down fervently while you kept your eyes on him. Above you, the knight could only grunt, running a hand through his ginger tresses to keep himself grounded.

“How is it you’ve gotten better at this in my absence, hm? Had done your own practice?” he groaned, placing a guiding hand on the back of your head. You hummed around his length, the vibrations of your cavern making his cock jump. A hand replaced your mouth when you pulled away, stroking at a uniform pace as you looked up at him.

“One of Aegon’s friends said I certainly do it quite well. I have you to thank for the knowledge, I suppose,” you bragged, smirking when his blues visibly darkened at your words. He pulled you up back to your feet, leading you back to lean against a sidetable before claiming your lips once more. He was unbothered by the taste of himself on your tongue, nor by the spit painting both your cheeks in this messy exchange. You took hold of one of his hands to guide up your skirt, past your smallclothes, and settling on your mound.

Gods, you were soaked. You had been the moment you felt his warmth, had pressed your nose into the familiar scent of his flesh.

His fingertips trailed down your slit to collect your essence, before taking it into his mouth for a taste. You watched, hypnotized as his lips wrapped around his fingers. Your skirts were then bunched up to your hips, your smallclothes falling to the floor once you untied the ribbons that held them together. The figurines on your table rattled as the wood accommodated your weight when you had shifted to lean further. You beckoned him closer by wrapping your leg around his trim waist, and an arm around his shoulders. It was almost like you readied to dance as he took hold of your waist, an embrace so rehearsed, so familiar. The underside of his cock pressed against your weeping cunny, and with the sway of his hips, the sweet song of your whines filled Gwayne’s ears. His cockhead snagged against your pearl when he pushed his hips at a perfect angle, making you both moan.

Calloused hands took hold of your thighs, dimpling the soft flesh under his hold. You gripped the edge of the table to ground yourself, throwing your head back as your uncle rubbed against you deliciously. He knew how much you liked this, well aware of how much power he held over you when he teased you with the promise of his claiming of your maidenhead. It stoked a fire deep within your loins, though today, it was not enough to burn you under.

“Gwayne…” you whined. “More… I need more!”

His red tresses swayed as he shook his head in refusal. His eyes were trained on the sight of your essence coating his cock, angling his hips to press against your pearl more. “I can’t… not yet, my love, you know this.”

You gripped his shoulders in frustration, urging him to look at you with your hands cupping his jaw. Your lips displayed your desperation as you kissed him. You have always asked little from him, naught but for one thing.

“This could be the last time we ever see each other. Please, uncle,” you pleaded, burying your head into his neck as you sobbed.

Your uncle had shown you much, had taught you much. However, there was one thing that was not for him to take. He dared not sully his niece, his beloved sister’s eldest girl. That kind of depravity is for Targaryens, and Gwayne thought himself a dignified man, honorable. Yet as you bit your lip temptingly at him, your brows furrowed adorably, the tight noose of virtue continued to loosen.

He grabbed hold of his cock, directing it to your slit. Gwayne kept his hand on the lower half of length to restrain himself, lest he lost all control. His tip breached your walls, reaching only far enough to feel your heat. “Just this much, and I promise when I return we will have so much more,” he panted into your ear. His thrusts were shallow, though some threatened to reach deeper, farther into your warmth. He alternated between rubbing and breaching, an assaulting tease to your senses.

You moaned his name like a prayer. Devoted pleading. Your grip on the back of his neck was grounding, keeping his head from floating to the heavens to be here with you. You were all over him, from your hands in his hair, your lips on his jaw down to your juices that coated his cock.

It was too late for him, he realized. To try and outrun a dragon’s fire was a futile attempt, and all he could do was welcome it with resignation. How ever could he deny himself this bliss? How could he deny you?

He came as his cockhead snagged on your folds once more, painting your mound with his pearly seed. Barely catching his breath, your hand on his shoulder ordered him to his knees. Like a devotee, the Hightower kneeled before you, descending his mouth onto your cunny. His own spend was salty as it coated his tongue, mixed with the sticky sweet nectar of your maiden core. The sight of his reds in between your thighs was a heavenly sight, and you could only pray to have him like this until the end of your days.

You were nearing your precipice, evident by the grinding of your hips against his face. With a thumb on your pearl and his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt, you came with a cry. Your uncle slurped up your release like a man starved, groaning against your mound.

When he had returned to his feet, Gwayne’s lips glistened with your essence. Breathless, you bit back a smile, but as his own flushed lips widened, a giggle bubbled from your chest. Your uncle chuckled, planting a small kiss to your forehead before taking you into his arms.

“How I’ve missed you, little red.”

“Why does it have a skirt?”

You poked the ornate metal decorating the horse, confused at such attire. It even had a matching mask on its head, and you wondered if the poor thing could even see.

“Tis armor. To ensure my royal steed is kept safe and no harm comes to it, and by extension, me, gods willing,” Gwayne explained, busied by the preparations of the move. Your uncle leaned closer to your ear, the distance between you tethering on violating propriety. “So I may find my way back to you.”

He was clad in his armor, silver steel paired by velvet Hightower green. He looked exquisite. If you were a lesser woman, there was no telling what you would have done right then and there, in the middle of the Keep’s courtyard. You regarded him with a dark gaze, uncaring of hiding your desire despite your mother and the Hand standing only a few paces away.

Your chest was heavy with dread. A worrying nagging in your head growing harder to ignore. Their journey was sure to be hard, and who knows what else they were to face other than harsh terrain. What if there were dragons? What were he to do to defend himself from such fire? You would beg your brother to let you fly with them, but the fucker barely spared a second of his day for you.

The prospect of losing Gwayne was daunting enough to drive you mad, yet there was little you could do. He could see it in your face, could feel the fear emanating from your anxious form as you watched him prepare. “Will you be careful?” you asked quietly.

He gave you a downturned smile, heart swelling. “I will, little red, I promise,” he replied. His vow did little to quench your apprehension, evident in the way you looked at anywhere but him. The knight took hold of your elbow, giving you a comforting squeeze. “And when I return, we could tell your mother,” he vowed.

Your orbs were bright in surprise as you looked up at him, making Gwayne smile. The passing of a stableboy reminded you of your surroundings, making you huddle closer to him. “You don’t jest?” you whispered.

“Never about you,” he responded, sincerity clear in his voice. He took hold of your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. “I shall win the king his army, and ask for his blessing. Until then, wait for me, my sweetling.”

The ground thumped as the knights marched out of the city’s gates. They made for a menacing sight, a symbol for the war that was starting to brew. As you stood with your mother, you uttered a silent prayer. You hoped the gods would hear you now, would let Gwayne find his way back to you.

#bella writes ✍️#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #freddie fox

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hwnglx · 7 months ago

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pick a pile - your ideal type vs. your future spouse

hi dear reader! i thought of an idea where i could look into how you guys' ideal types compare to your future lovers. note that this is a general reading, so not everything will resonate with everyone! breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and let the rest flow. 𓆩♡𓆪

⋆˚࿔ pile 1 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

in your romantic partners, you're looking for a best friend.

someone you can cheerfully celebrate the highs in your life with. a person who will be able to bring you a sense of joy and happiness in life.

it's likely you want someone who's like your good luck charm. they brighten up your life in the most pleasant ways, and are able to provide you with the feeling of positivity and bliss.

you know when these special people enter your life, and all of a sudden everything becomes more enjoyable. because of their presence in your life, things are fun again.

you want someone who will be a source of inspiration, and support for you. a person who can uplift and motivate you in the most rewarding manner.

i keep getting this feeling, you'd want your person to be someone who has this profound impact, where just talking to them can ease your mind and light up your day.

you'd want to have a lover whose voice brings you comfort, whose encouraging words become your source of confidence, whose presence gives you the feeling of enjoying to be alive.

i can sense you seeking to find this comfortable feeling of home in your lovers. someone whose warmth can make you feel safe, and secure.

i believe you're a person who's very introspective, someone who's constantly on this journey of self-discovery.

therefore you'd like a partner who will be supportive, and accompany you on that journey; someone who will be your companion in life, and help you understand yourself better.

you'd like an individual who will help you heal, grow, discover and proudly embrace your best, most confident self. someone whose positive energy is contagious and helps you thrive.

you want your lover to be reliable and resilient. someone you can lean on with no second thoughts. who will be there for you no matter what. a person who will take you with everything that you come with, and still remain loyal and devoted to you.

a person who, although they're passionate, knows how to control their temper, won't be discouraged by tough times, and remain committed and persevering, regardless of struggles you might go through together. you want your lover to be a like a rock in your life.

you do want someone who is fiery, powerful, charismatic, self-assured, knows what they want. you're likely to be drawn to people who have fire energy; a strong presence. people who are aware of their worth, and whose attendance can't be missed once they step into a room. but you don't want your partner to be too full of themselves, overbearing, or too intense.

you want them to be mature, trustworthy and responsible. a person you can build a stable, comfortable and secure, but also playful and joyous relationship with.

your future spouse

so, one aspect which you'll probably like to hear; your fs is likely to be quite mature, possibly older than you in age.

they're pretty powerful, disciplined and steady. the first impression they have on people, is likely to be quite strong.

they aren't a person who's overly emotional at first glance, and moreso carry themselves in an emotionally reserved and controlled manner.

your fs for sure has strong leadership qualities to them. they're good at commanding attention and demanding respect from the people around them. it's the type of energy that makes everyone in the room shut up, once they speak up. to note, they could also be quite stubborn, and opinionated at times.

another significant aspect though, is that they're immensely supportive and generous towards their loved ones.

this is a person who's likely to have a heart that is much more compassionate than what meets the eye. someone who, although they aren't always immensely expressive when it comes to their feelings, has a true heart for people in need.

your future lover is someone who's giving and generous. i can see their love languages leaning towards the acts of service and giving gifts side.

this person has a strong sense of justice, they're likely to be very fairminded. they don't like disharmony, and will be there to help out the underdog if they feel like they're being treated in an unjust manner.

i can see this person surprising people with how nice they can actually be, because they usually seem so serious, more stern and intimidating on the outside.

this is also a person, who values harmony and stability in their relationships, especially in their family-life. a person who fosters an atmosphere, that's secure and comfortable. i can sense them possibly being closely tied to their families.

if you get to know this person in a deeper manner, you'll take note of how they exude warmth, and a vibe that's very inviting and comforting, when they're around the people they love. someone vibrant who can easily be the center of attention.

it's kinda giving the family's favorite son (note; their energy is quite masculine) who everyone runs to greet, once they enter the room. a popular, charming and well-liked person whose energy can light the atmosphere up in a lively manner.

what's interesting, is that i did get the four of wands for both your ideal type, and your future spouse.

so, it's highly likely for them to be able to fulfill this wish you have, of finding a person who not only makes you feel comfortable and at ease, but also genuinely happy. like you've finally arrived at home once you're in their arms.

⋆˚࿔ pile 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

you're giving me wise, mindful and cautious energy. it does seem like you are someone who prefers testing the waters before jumping into relationships.

you're likely to collect information on people first, before fully giving in.. as in getting to know them thoroughly. by doing that, you're trying to get a good understanding of their character, and whether you can see them being a valuable addition to your life.

there's this observant energy to you, where you can take note of the smallest details in people. you probably like it when others are also able to compliment you on the small things not everyone would notice, like e.g. the perfume you're wearing that day.

you value mental compatibility. you want a person who's smart, fun, quick-witted, clever. someone you can have interesting, thought-provoking and intriguing conversations with. discussions that range from complex and profound ones that make you reflect, to playful ones that make you laugh.

you like honesty, and transparency. you don't want someone who will beat around the bush, walk on eggshells, or give you any mixed and confusing signals. you desire a trustworthy person who can be straightforward, and open with you.

a big focus here, is on expansion and transformation.

you'd like a person who will help you explore, as well as expand. especially mind-wise, by talking about subjects that make you introspect.

i don't think you mind your lover being very different to you, whether that's culturally, ethnically, language-wise or opinion-wise. on the contrary, you seem to believe that views, beliefs or mindsets that are different to yours to a degree, can have significant impact on your life, and help you evolve, which is why you're likely to welcome it.

there just needs to be compatibility when it comes to the path you're aiming to go down in the future. in your eyes, there does need to be a certain alignment in values, objectives and intentions, in order for the connection to work out.

you want a partner whose existence, rather than becoming a presence that distracts you from the important things in life, will help you be more self-aware.

you want someone who can help you transform and thrive into your best self. a presence that finally makes things seem clearer, and helps you feel whole, happy, warm and complete.

it's this feeling of “being with this person feels right. this is who i'm supposed to be with. their presence is healthy for me and my journey. instead of sidetracking me from my life-path, this is a person who will be supportive of me, and willingly hold my hand while i'm trying to heal from the past and understand what's right for my own life.”

again, i don't see you rushing into your relationships.

you're someone who looks at healthy connections developing in a slow pace, but steadily.

you want a person who will be patient, conscious and consistent in the effort they invest into the maintaining the security of the relationship, and taking things step by step.

some of you might've gone through some negative experiences in regards to relationships; not just romantic ones, but human connections in general. this might've caused you to become more wary and careful about how to proceed.

at this point, you've become adamant on making sure you don't let anyone into your life, who will bring any unwanted and unwelcomed negativity, that only drags you down.

a lot of focus on true happiness and fulfillment here too. you desire a person who can enrich and brighten your life, and keep your spirits high. someone who brings you a sense of joy.

you want to make sure you're with someone mature, righteous and self-aware, who makes healthy choices in life, is sure of what they want, and doesn't play games.

what it boils down to, is you liking someone who takes the relationship as seriously as you do.

this pile is giving scorpio/virgo/gemini/mercury energy

your future spouse

so first of all, i can see your future spouse being air-dominant. they're definitely big thinkers; someone who mostly functions with their mind, and bases a lot of their decisions on logic and rationality, instead of their emotions.

this is a person who's likely to match your desire for intellectual stimulation. they're funny and clever, very witty. likely to usually be quite blunt, and at times a little playfully snarky in the way they express themselves.

this pile definitely gave me the biggest “bickering” vibes. i feel like both you and your fs, are people who showcase their affection by teasing and provoking. it's giving this couple who bickers over trivial and little things. to others it might look like you're arguing all the time, but for you, it's the way you express fondness towards each other.

this person has such a continuously running and active mind, that they can be prone to overthinking and at times, diving into some problems way too deeply.

this is someone who's quite charismatic and attractive, i feel like they're physically good-looking. luscious hair, nice skin. perhaps more tan. great and blinding smile. good figure as well, they might be athletic, or at least look that way.

this person seems to have been through some impactful break-ups or separations before, which have messed their confidence up to a degree and transformed them. there were certain things they needed to let go of, and move on from.

one insight i keep getting, is your fs being someone who's much more dedicated, devoted and loyal to their romantic partners, than one would think at first impression.

i kept getting so many swords, but i couldn't shake this feeling there's a different side to them deep down. it just moreso seems buried down right now; i don't see it having many opportunities to come out, since i believe they're on more of an independent streak right now. and focused on healing before getting into another commitment.

so when i asked if they're out for longterm and committed relationships, i got the king of pentacles. this card represents a masculine and solid person who's stable, reliable, patient, faithful. they might not be the most extravagant and lovey dovey affectionate partner out there, but their devotion lies deep.

it's quite likely for their venus to be in an earth sign, perhaps taurus, or fall into the seventh house.

they do have a strong sense of responsibility, and are more self-aware than one would imagine. this person might come off differently, than they actually are deep inside. many people might misjudge or misunderstand them.

the type of person who everyone would look at as a player, when they're not. they might have a fire rising, actually. their energy kinda reminds me of jimin from bts, who's a libra sun and mercury, gemini moon, and sagittarius rising.

your fs isn't someone who just recklessly acts on a whim with no consideration for others and blindly lives according to their selfish instincts; but a person who does reflect about the impact their actions have on people, and can easily feel guilty for saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

again, there is something which gives them this harsh honesty in their communication. it's likely they aren't good at sugarcoating or attuning their words to anyone's emotions, so they might unintentionally rub some people wrong at times.

they're probably not very emotional themselves, so they could have trouble empathising with overly emotional individuals.

they mostly try to rationalize their feelings, because it can just.. get too overwhelming. your fs can have issues truly understanding what's going on inside of them.

they also give me the vibe of someone who might have the tendency to care a little too much about what people think, and get overly attached to people's opinions of them, though they probably wouldn't really like admitting this.

because of this, they're likely to moreso deal with their inner insecurities on their own, and putting on a “happier” facade than what actually goes on inside.

your future lover definitely seems like a person who's out for marriage. it's likely that it's one of their main objectives when it comes to their love life. finally finding a person they can make that everlasting promise to, and swear their eternal love to.

both, your fs and you, seem to be on journeys of healing past wounds right now. you have the potential to offer each other a lot of understanding and acceptance, since you do seem to share certain similarities, which can make for a deep bond.

just a gentle encouragement for you to not lose sight of your track and keep standing strong and tall, on your own two feet.

i feel that the universe is lying out the path for you two to meet, when divine timing deems you as ready.

note for this pile: i literally had a dream the night after reading about a guy who matches the energy i got here so so well, they were very charming and craaazy handsome.. they were speaking on the phone about something while laughing and sitting on a couch lol this is for sure someone talkative

⋆˚࿔ pile 3 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

worthy to note that this pile immediately, even before reading, gave me water energy.

i also kept feeling like i have my head in the clouds and am in a daze, i couldn't concentrate and focus as well while reading. a lot of you might have strong water placements, or significant neptune aspects. perhaps neptune in the first house?

i also got a lot of pentacles here, so you might feel yourself being drawn to earth placements. (thought of jay from enhypen who's a taurus stellium with a taurus venus and cancer moon, could see his energy matching you guys well)

anyhow, what you're looking for, is a partner who's fully focused on only you. someone who's gonna make you their world.. spoil you with thoughtful gifts, shower you with attention, turn you into the center of their universe.

you might even enjoy some possessiveness, and like the thought of your lover becoming jealous and territorial of you. you like the type of person who protectively keeps you at their side at all times, e.g. doesn't let go of your hand in public. you desire this feeling of security; like you're in the safest hands.

you want someone who will help you realize your true worth. a person who will strengthen your self-esteem.

you know this thing when you're dating someone, and there's this feeling of.. “wow, how does this person love me so much? guess i really must be something special”

you want someone to love you in such wonderful and profound ways, that it makes you become more aware of your value. someone whose perspective on you, makes you adjust yours as well. someone who looks at you as beautiful, which makes you feel beautiful.

you like people who are willing to fight for you. someone who's courageous, and not afraid of arguing or getting their hands dirty for you. you desire a lover who will place themselves in front of you in order to protect you fiercely. it is kinda giving this k-drama boyfriend who beats up other men once someone looks into the direction of their girl, lmao.

you're likely to enjoy the thought of having an older and more mature partner. perhaps someone taller than you in height, and broader than you in their build as well.

you want someone emotionally intelligent, who's empathetic. a person who's a calming and gentle listener. a lover who's more in control of their emotions and can therefore be a reliable figure in your life, that you can comfortably lean on.

you're a person who enjoys daydreaming, idealizing, fantasizing. it's likely you've already pictured and imagined what you'd want your perfect partner to be like several times and enjoy dreaming of your romantic 🥰✨ love story.

another insight i got, is that you're probably someone who enjoys the idea of taking pictures of your lovers, or getting your picture taken. making precious memories, taking these cute “pov” boyfriend/girlfriend material photos of each other, and both of you making it your lockscreen. sweet little signs of affection like that are likely to melt your heart.

you probably enjoy the thought of walking through the streets of beautiful and idyllic places together, maybe paris or tokyo with all the cherry blossoms, and feeling like you're on cloud nine together with your lover. i got reminded of how hyunjin and felix from skz used to walk around paris together with their cameras in their hands, and take pretty pictures of each other, like this.

you likely just love gently descending into this dream, of how lovely it could be if only you could spend enjoyable days like this together with your prince or princess charming.

the current transit of venus in pisces is definitely heightening this pile's energy

one thing i will say though, is that i do believe you wouldn't want your partner to completely sacrifice and drop everything for you. you'd like to have a lover who's good at juggling multiple priorities. someone who has good time management skills, and knows how to take care of several different areas of their lives. though of course, you'd like to be a big priority, and have them all to yourself once you're able to with them. you desire an endlessly devoted person, who will absolutely reserve a special time of the day for you two only.

i can see you liking your lover's love language to be physical touch, giving gifts and quality time. you probably love the idea of getting these dazzling and fancy gifts, like couple rings.

your future spouse

this person is very well put-together. they definitely carry themselves in quite a self-satisfied manner. likely to even give off a slightly arrogant vibe to people. a little bit like a person who sees themselves as very important and special.

your future lover is likely to be someone who's pretty good at handling heartbreaks. they have a lot of inner strength and resilience. contrary to what it might seem like, i don't think this person has always had the perfect and flawless life full of sunshine and rainbows; they've just developed thick skin over time. they're quite immune to pain now, because they've been able to grow and transform from their heartache.

people on the outside are likely to see them as someone who always has their shit together, and is very blessed. but again, that's just because your fs is good at dealing with their problems in a graceful manner. they aren't the type to make their inner struggles very obvious.

they also seem like a person who's pretty perfectionistic, which is a quiet but heavy burden they might carry on their back a lot.

feeling this constant need to display themselves in the best light only, not being sure if they can ever live up to anyone's expectations. they're likely to be quite hard on themselves.

the type of person to obsessively check every picture that was taken of them, out of worry they came out looking bad.

they are giving me “golden child” energy. i keep thinking of family somehow. they might feel a lot of pressure from their families, or their closer environment, to be perfect.

however, they also do give me slightly spoiled energy here. they might've grown up in a very protected environment, and have therefore been more shielded from certain “real world” problems the “normal” person has to deal with.

they could either come from a privileged family, be in a privileged position, perhaps through fame or wealth, or have grown up with overly protective and smothering parents. some of them could also just be spoiled only children.

this is likely to have led to them being rather inexperienced in some areas in life. i don't seem them as very narrow-minded though, on the contrary; they do seem curious and interested, as well as open and eager to exploring new things.

this is likely to be a person who isn't from your typical circle. there's a high likelihood for them to be a foreigner. you could either meet them online, like a dating app or social media, or while you're on a trip overseas of some sort.

very central theme for you two; being immensely interested in getting to know each other, considering you're so different.

it's this thing when you meet someone from a completely different background or with a very different lifestyle to yours, and naturally get curious about a variety of different things.

it can get quite fascinating, i can especially see your fs getting excited to hear about your everyday-stories. there is a childlike innocence to them. like this cute and youthful glow in their eyes when they're listening to something that intrigues them.

they're someone who's quite excitable and energetic, especially when they get to do fun and adventurous activities.

very likely for this person to have strong fire placements. i'm getting a sagittarius or aries moon or mars, perhaps.

the two of you are likely to hit it off quite fast, the chemistry is amazing. though i don't see the energy being romantic right away, there's this vibe of you two just clicking very well. beautiful harmony between you and your fs.

you could text a lot, or regularly meet up at café's together.

i also get this snowy and cozy fall and winter atmosphere with warm coffee vibes for some reason. this could be a significant factor for some of you. you're welcome to take whatever resonates with you personally, and leave the rest.

meeting up with this person is likely to uplift you in a beautiful way. this warm, cozy and fuzzy feeling i'm getting, is likely to relate to how you guys will feel when around your fs as well. it will be so comfortable, the conversation will flow naturally.

the existence of this person is likely to make you feel renewed. life will just seem brighter, more beautiful and pleasant.

you could feel this inner contentment, that makes many of your problems seem less dramatic, now that you have this special source of light by your side.

your fs is likely to find the same warmth in you guys as well.

the sun in the end is such a beautiful way to end the spread; think of how the sun makes you feel. warm, comfortable. it's also very vital in energy and healthy for you. that's how the dynamic between you and your fs is likely to play out.

thank you for reading ᰔᩚ i'd love to hear you guys' feedback on what resonated for you

#kpop tarot #pac reading #pac #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #personal reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading

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ari-ana-bel-la · 1 month ago

Note

Any driver and the daughter 1 year old surprises them when they come home from a race . Squealing and stumbling/ walking to them at the door. The mother kept it as secret so it could be welcome home suprize.

First Steps

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional cooing sounds coming from the nursery. Kika stood in the hallway, her eyes on the clock. It was late—almost midnight—and she knew he was exhausted. The race weekend had taken a lot out of him, emotionally and physically. But tonight was going to be worth it. Tonight was special.

She adjusted the little bow in Yn’s soft brown hair, her heart doing little flips as she watched their daughter wobble on unsteady feet, giggling to herself as she held onto the edge of the couch. She looked so much like Pierre—those deep blue eyes, the stubborn little chin, and the exact same smile that crinkled her eyes. But her spirit, her sass, her little temper tantrums when things didn’t go her way? All Kika.

Yn let out a tiny squeal and plopped down on her bottom with a soft thud. Kika chuckled quietly and scooped her up.

"Okay, minha princesa, your Papa's coming home tonight. Are you ready to surprise him?" she whispered against Yn's soft cheek, earning a giggle and a drooly kiss in return.

Kika had debated telling him over the phone. She'd even recorded it—that magical moment two days ago when Yn had taken her first steps, hands outstretched, stumbling three whole feet from the couch to the coffee table. She'd cried. She'd clapped and cheered and kissed her all over.

But she hadn’t told Pierre. Not a word.

She wanted him to see it with his own eyes. She knew how much he hated missing milestones, even the little ones—how he’d get quiet on FaceTime when he heard Yn babbling more clearly, or when he saw her trying to wave. He already missed enough, she thought. This one... this one was for him.

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulled her out of her thoughts.

Kika quickly set Yn down, kneeling next to her. "Go get him, baby," she whispered, giving her a little nudge.

The door creaked open slowly, and Pierre stepped in with a tired sigh. His shoulders were slumped, travel bag dragging behind him. He looked utterly spent. But his face lit up the second he saw them—his girls.

"Hey," he said softly, eyes immediately locking with Kika's. "I missed you so much."

But before Kika could reply, Yn let out the happiest little shriek, causing Pierre to look down—just in time to see his daughter standing, swaying slightly... and then, one tiny foot forward. Then another. Arms stretched up towards him.

Pierre’s eyes widened. "Wait, what—?"

She was walking.

She was actually walking.

"Oh my God," he whispered, his voice thick.

Yn stumbled, caught herself, and took two more steps. Pierre immediately dropped to his knees, arms open wide, his mouth parted in disbelief and pure joy.

"Come here, mon amour. Come to Papa!"

With a squeal, she half-walked, half-fell into his arms, her hands slapping against his chest as he caught her. He was laughing now, laughing through the tears that suddenly blurred his vision.

He held her close, burying his face into her soft curls. "You’re walking! Baby girl, you’re walking!"

Kika leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest, a warm smile on her face as she watched him fall apart.

Pierre pulled back just enough to pepper Yn's cheeks with kisses. She giggled wildly, squirming in his grip.

"When did this happen? How—? Kika?" He looked up at her, eyes shining.

Kika walked over and crouched beside them. "Two days ago," she said softly.

Pierre blinked. "You knew?"

She nodded. "I saw it. I recorded it too, but... I didn’t want to tell you. I wanted you to see it for the first time."

He looked at her for a long moment, overwhelmed. "You kept it a secret for me?"

She smiled and cupped his cheek. "Of course I did. I know how much this means to you."

Pierre pulled her into a one-armed hug, holding both his girls close. "I don’t even have words," he murmured. "You guys... you’re everything."

Yn babbled happily between them, still giggling at her papa's beard scratching her cheek. Pierre pulled back and looked at her, pure wonder in his eyes.

"You walked to me, sweet girl," he said, his voice still awed. "All the way to me. Just like that. And you didn’t even fall on your face."

Kika laughed. "She did. About thirty times. But she kept trying."

Pierre looked at Yn. "That’s my girl. Persistent like her mama."

"Hey!"

"What? It’s a compliment!"

Kika rolled her eyes playfully and kissed his forehead. "Come on. I made soup. You look dead."

"I am dead. This race weekend nearly killed me," Pierre muttered as he stood up, carrying Yn on his hip like a pro. She curled into him immediately, head on his shoulder.

They moved to the kitchen, where a pot of steaming lentil soup waited on the stove. Pierre inhaled deeply. "That smells like home."

"It is home," Kika said simply.

He watched her for a long moment, then looked down at the sleepy baby in his arms. "She really looks like me, doesn’t she?"

Kika nodded. "Every time she pouts, I feel like I’m arguing with you in miniature."

"She gets her charm from me too."

"She gets her sass from me, though."

He chuckled. "That, I will not argue."

Yn was half-asleep by the time he finished his soup. He carried her to the nursery, holding her close as she drifted off, humming quietly under his breath.

Kika leaned in the doorway, watching. "You always know how to calm her."

"She calms me," Pierre whispered, placing a soft kiss on Yn’s forehead before laying her gently in the crib. He tucked the blanket around her and turned to Kika.

"You’re amazing, you know that?"

"Why, because I make soup?"

"Because you held this moment for me. That was the best surprise I’ve ever had in my life."

She stepped into his arms, and he held her tightly. "You missed a few steps, mon chéri," she whispered into his chest.

"I don’t care," he murmured. "She walked to me. That moment? That was mine. And I’ll never forget it."

They stood there for a while, swaying gently in the quiet nursery, their daughter sleeping peacefully nearby. In the middle of a chaotic world of races, schedules, and noise, they had this. This beautiful, quiet, ordinary magic.

Home.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

-♡○♡

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parfaitblogs · 6 months ago

Note

i NEED a angst fic (with a happy ending ofc) based on tolerate it by taylor swift please 🙏 big chance it’s been done before though and im just the most unoriginal bitch ever

tolerate it ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid gets out of prison, and you baselessly feel like your relationship is growing increasingly one sided. pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags:��post prison reid. neglectful bf spencer reid. happy (open) ending. communication yippee. themes of self doubt in reader. mentions of spencer not eating. word count: 2k a/n: writers block isn't real you just need to watch criminal minds season 12 episode 13 'spencer' and then listen to tolerate it on repeat for three hours straight. iiii know human beings don't talk in long monologued speeches but for the sake of my sanity let us pretend i am shakespeare and spencer reid is my leontes. plzzzz tell me if u liked this or if u didn't yay thank u ily

i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do, or don't do. (lines 3–4)

A fork scrapes against ceramic. It emits a scratching sound that hurts your ears, and you're cringing from your curled up position on the couch as you hear it. Silverware shines beneath the bright, warm glow of his kitchen light, his food barely dented as he pushes it around his plate.

He's been playing with it since he sat down to eat it.

You're not too sure what's going through his head as he takes barely there bites of a meal you cooked. You don't think you want to know. But it takes him all of twenty three minutes to come to the same conclusion he made last night, and every other night before that. That he isn't going to eat any more of the food, and just like his fork, his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands.

He wraps the plate in aluminium foil, the crinkling of metal being your only indicator that he has plans to eat it later. At least, that's what you hope.

When he disappears into the bedroom, you follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, you're trailing after him, and your chest feels hollow with how embarrassing it all is.

He doesn't know you're watching him, though.

At least, not to the extent you are. He's field trained enough to know that you're keeping an eye on him, but your silence is only indicative of you giving him the space he so politely asked for three days ago. He's not in his right mind to assume you're silent for any other reason, and you've battled to a loss with the thoughts of letting him into your disaster of a brain.

He doesn't need to know that.

The ensuite door shuts behind him, and you hear the water turn on minutes later. You take the cue to curl up on your side of the bed, your fingers toying with the paper edges of a book you now had in your lap. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for you were rediscovering your love for children's novels amongst this trying time between you and Spencer.

"Hey, did you buy me more shampoo?"

Your head lifts at the voice, the snowy Narnia world you had built in your brain shattering in an instant, as you're met with the dull colours of Spencer Reid's bedroom, and a showered and dressed Spencer Reid standing only a few feet away. His bedroom hadn't always been dull. Really, nothing had actually changed artistically within it to make it dull. But there's something about no longer laughing in a room once filled with so much love that mutes its vibrance.

"Yeah," you say, dog-earing the page you were on and slipping it onto the nightstand. "I saw you were running low."

His lips part as he exhales, and you hate that you can tell he's pushing away something snippy. It wasn't that he was actively trying to start fights with you, but his temper has grown short, and he has more anger in his heart than before.

"You didn't get the right one, that's all."

And though it isn't said rudely, your chest opens up like a black hole regardless, and a thick ball of emotion lodges in your throat.

"I'm sorry," you force past your lips, despising the hollow sound of your sad voice, and the fact that he notices it. His eyebrows frown towards each other at the sound of you, and he takes a step towards the bed.

It's pathetic, right? To be this upset over him letting you know the thing you bought him wasn't correct. In that almost fake sounding soft, kind voice he has when he is trying to keep his unnecessary frustration at bay.

But it wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something for him in recent, and been told you did it wrong, instead of simply being thanked. Acts of service he was finding problems within no matter what they were, each new critique chipping away at the scales of your self confidence. You don't even think he's meaning to do it.

Every time this happens, memories of the other times flash violently in your head, reminding you that he could not find the beauty of being cared for by you the way he had before this. This, this thing you were barely even able to string the letters of together, because it seemed so foreign and faraway to you. Spencer Reid in prison is not a sentence that makes sense in this — or any other — timeline. You don't think it ever will. And yet.

You'd cooked him meals every single day since he got out. Meals he'd barely ever touch, wrap in foil, then put in the fridge for his work lunch the next day. You don't know if he's even eating them at work, or if he's just taking them there to throw them out. You've been too scared to reach out to any of his team members to ask. Knowledge is power, but knowledge makes his negligence all too real.

There's a fear in calling it negligence. It isn't fair of you to expect the same man before and after prison, and you know he's dealing with more than you can fathom. You were prepared for distance.

Just not this much.

The submerged sound of your name tugs you from your thoughts, and suddenly Spencer is closer than he was before, and he's repeating your name over and over in calling. Once you rapidly blink and shake your head, he determines you've returned to Earth, and he's falling silent again. There's concern knitting his eyebrows together, and he's got his hands hovering in the air, as if he's reaching for you, but second guessing himself at the same time.

"Whats going on in your brain?" he asks you after a few beats of the two of you just staring at each other.

Like a dam breaking, his question triggers an onslaught of emotions, and every fear and insecurity you've had inside you spills out.

"I feel like you suddenly hate me," your eyes rapidly search the duvet in front of you for your words. "Or—or I annoy you with my presence? Or my care? I mean, I try to do things for you and you barely even spare them a second glance, or thought. You barely talk to me anymore outside of updating me on your schedule. We sleep with miles of distance between us," you gesture to the bed beside you. "I cook you meals you don't eat, I wash your clothes you don't fold. Both of which are things that I'm fine with, because I can't imagine how skewed your appetite is, and I—I know laundry is a trigger now. But there is not even a slight hint of you—you being thankful. You know, appreciative. I feel like I'm following you around like a servant, and I'm doing things with no gratitude in return. I'm doing things I shouldn't have to, because I'm your girlfriend. Not your maid. But they are things that I want to do, because I care for you, and I love you," you pause, a self deprecating smile appearing on your face. "And—and you haven't even told me you love me since the day we got you home. Do you even love me, still? No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I mean, I do. I don't know. God, Spencer, can you say something?"

He doesn't. For a long while, he stares at you, and you train your eyes on the pattern on the bedding you're currently sitting under. His gaze is pulverising, and every second that passes is another limb turning to dust beneath it. His silence should be enough of an answer for you. Yet, you hold onto groundless hope still.

It feels like eternity has passed you by, by the time you hear his voice again.

"I don't mean to make you think I don't love you," he says. "I do love you. Which feels meaningless to confess to you now, knowing how you feel, and I wish my expansive knowledge of words could come up with a confession that does justice to how you feel, but also makes you feel better. I can only hope you take it at face value, and don't assume I'm saying it because it's what you want me to say."

He finds a seat on the bed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with each other as he fixates on the wooden flooring in front of him.

"I am grateful for everything you've done for me recently. I'm sorry I haven't expressed that. I'm having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other, let alone stringing together sensical thoughts. I wish I could tell you what my mind sounds like without feeling guilty about it. It isn't nice, and every thought I have is far from positive," he lifts his eyes to you, and you watch in real time as they soften, for the first time since he came home. "I will tell you that there's you. Among every awful thought and feeling I have, there is you. I think I... I think I've been coming across as ungrateful because you are a breath of relief after every bad thought and feeling. Am I making sense?" you nod your head, and he sighs in, namely, relief. "I take a step back from processing my emotions and figuring out how I'm going to talk about them with that bureau therapist when I think about you, because you are the one good thing I have to hold on to. So I just bask in the thought of you, or the sight of you, and focus on nothing else."

You aren't sure when you began to cry, and you only realise it when you have to sniffle before speaking. "You can focus on so many things at once, though."

"Not anymore," he admits, looking back down. "I don't know what's happened. I've gone from having a brain that works inhumanly — which is objectively an incorrect statement, but I digress — to one that cannot multitask on two separate things at once."

"Oh," you whisper. "I see."

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as though your efforts go unnoticed, honey," he murmurs. "They don't. This has just been really difficult."

"I know," you say, wiping your tear stained face with the back of your hand.

There's a part of you that wants this to be the end of it. The end of self doubt, and distance, and instead the beginning of your relationship rebuilding itself alongside Spencer.

There's a larger, more logical part of you, that knows you cannot just sweep every self conscious doubt under the rug and move on.

"I just want some time," you tell him, and his shoulders tense as you speak. "Not to—not to break up. Or even for us to have a break. I don't want that. I've just felt very... unloved. Like you're merely tolerating my presence in your life. And now, I know you aren't. But I have to find my confidence in myself in this relationship again before I can move on."

"Okay," his voice is strained as he speaks, and you know he's not exactly content with your request for space.

You try not to focus on that, in order to stand firm in your decision.

That is where the conversation ends. And just like every other night, he climbs into bed and leaves a considerable amount of distance between your two bodies. You choose not to dwell on it, because this is now him giving you the space you so politely requested. You were catastrophising, and you'd be damned if you let such a thing control your life any longer.

It maybe wasn't all in your head, but you still had to take the self doubt shaped dagger from your stomach out.

now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (line 30)

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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rottingpink · 4 months ago

Text

earned it | simon "ghost" riley

cw: grumpy! simon riley x dumbass recruit! reader, dumbification, smut, size kinks, fem! reader, MDNI

synopsis: simon likes order. what happens when a cute little recruit comes in and messes it all up?

masterlist

Simon is used to the recruits being obedient and a little clumsy. They'd stumble over their words when talking to him, scramble to follow orders, maybe mess up once or twice, but they'd learn because they had to in an environment like this. It's either adapt or get thrown out, or worse, killed. But you were something else.

From the moment you stepped onto the training grounds, he knew you were going to be a problem. It wasn't because you didn't have the drive, because he clearly saw that look of determination and resilience on your face when you stood in ranks on day one, with your face all scrunched up in focus, up until you mixed up a left turn with a right and bumped into the guy behind you head on.

Yeah, he determined pretty quick that you're kind of a ditz.

"Rookie, where's your rifle?" Simon asks one early morning right after breakfast. You hate waking up early, but being in the military kinda forces you to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for PT or other sorts of training. You're half asleep as your HULKING officer towers over you as you stand in ranks; he just has to walk a few steps to get up to you now since he made you move to the front middle so he can monitor you at all times.

You blink up at him, big doe eyes shiny with confusion and sleepiness. Your gaze drops to your shoulders, where your rifle would rest on a sling, but to your dismay, there's nothing there.

"...Shit."

Simon exhales slow and shaky through his nose, trying to calm himself. This kind of shit seems to happen to you every day. He's tired of you and the way your mind seems to always be floating in the clouds and not focused on the world around you. You just smile sheepishly, shifting on your feet like you're only mildly concerned about the fact that the entire platoon is staring at you fuck up yet again. "Rookie..." He warns, his temper wavering.

"It's, uh. It’s not gone, sir!" You try to explain quickly, looking around the damp morning environment nervously. "I just... I might’ve left it in the mess hall, I-I think? Otherwise it might be in my locker, or maybe by the range-"

He stares at you. You stare back, wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights. He's furious. What do you mean you don't know the exact location of your firearm? It's not a toy or something little you can easily misplace. "Go get it. Now." He just about sneers at you, eyes dark and pissed.

"Yes, sir!" Your voice is now not so tired, more chirpy, eager to impress. It grates on Simon's nerves how ridiculous you are and how everything just seems to be a game for you. He's not sure why he keeps letting you get away with your bullshit. He's benched recruits for doing things much less aggravating than you. You're very lucky you're cute, or you wouldn't be out here with the rest of the platoon right now.

After too many fucked up missions and slip up on your part, Simon decides he can't control you and decides to cut you loose while he dragged you to his barracks for a talk. He crosses his arms. "You’re done, rookie. Out of here. Can't take any more screwups, you're holding me back by being a shit soldier."

Your face falls and you swear your heart starts pounding a mile a minute as you hear his words. You stare up at him, in your civilian clothes as you were about to head to the mess hall, when he dragged you to the private room. You feel so small talking to him. Your top of your head doesn't even skim his broad shoulders. "D-done?" You whimper.

"With this. Training. The team. All of it." His voice is clipped. "You’ve been a liability since day one. I’ve got enough headaches without adding you to the list. You’re off the roster starting tomorrow."

"Is this because I lost my goggles during the simulation? It didn’t even affect the outcome that bad, sir..."

His eyes lock on yours, beefy arms crossing over one another as he glares down at you like you're no more than some whiny kid. "No. It’s because you treat this like a fucking joke."

You look at him with that weird expression again, the one that always messes with his head. Not angry. Not crying. Just... confused. A little bit sad. The fucking big sparkly eyes that make his chest ache.

"You can’t just..!" you start, then cut yourself off with a frustrated whine. You're panting softly, clearly worked up by all this. You don't want to leave! You've been giving this place your all, even if it didn't look like it all the time.

"I’ve been trying, okay? It’s not like I don’t care! I’m just… I don’t know, okay?" You shove your hair out of your face, your hands twitching with the need to do something. "You can't just kick me out because I screwed up one simulation!"

"You’ve screwed up more than one, rookie." His voice is firm and very annoyed. He steps closer, making you crane your neck up to look at him. Your footing wavers a bit as you instinctively step back.

"Yeah, well, I’m still trying, aren’t I?" You glare at him defiantly. "You think I like embarrassing myself in front of everyone?" You gather the courage to step closer to him, now shouting. "I’ll prove to you I can do this. Just give me a chance and i’ll show you I can keep up, alright? I need this."

Simon looks at you, his expression unreadable. He scoffs, shaking his head lowly. “Cute. You think you’re some kinda miracle worker?”

You shake your head quickly, looking up at him with your pretty face all flushed from the comment. "No! Don't mock me. I don't wanna be kicked out. I'll do anything to prove I can handle this." You stand there, waiting for him to say something else, and for a long moment, Simon just watches you with that same stern, smoldering gaze.

"Fine. C'mere."

༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

"Harder, brat," Simon says, giving your ass a firm slap as you bounce dumbly on his cock. He grips your hips bruisingly tight, thick fingers digging into your soft flesh as watches your pussy suck in his cock with each bounce.

You let out a sharp gasp, your hips jerking forward involuntarily as Simon's firm slap stings your sensitive skin. "Fuck! y-yes sir! hngh..." you cry out, clenching your teeth and doubling your efforts to ride him without any help. Your tits bounce with each rough thrust, sweat dripping down your cleavage as you put every ounce of energy into pleasing him and showing him you'll do whatever it takes to stay here.

You feel his heavy balls slapping up against the curve of your ass with each thrust. It's so fucking big, and from the angle you're in, you feel so full each time he buries himself inside you. You squeak softly, tears of overstimulation pricking at your waterline as you struggle to take him all in, and you have to ease yourself down on his cock, your pussy stretching around his length to all of him.

"Atta girl." He hums lazily, not helping you at all. Since you said you'd do anything to prove yourself, then he wanted you to prove you could adapt and handle any challenge you're given, and your current challenge is fucking yourself onto his huge cock.

He grabs a fistful of your hair so he can look at your face while he fucks you dumb, and he admires your swollen lips and glassy eyes. You moan, hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.

"Aw. Look at you. Fucked so dumb on my cock that you're crying, hm?" He laughs, looking down to see how his dick disappears into your pussy. For someone so small you take him so well, like you were made for him. "You know, if you wanna tap out, you can, pretty girl."

You whine, shaking your head insistently. you manage to shuffle down far enough to sink down onto most of his cock, and he groans loudly, hands finally flying down to grab your hips to pull you down and fill you to the hilt. "Ah, fuck-" He grunts, holding you still. "Haa, shit, so fucking tight, you're squeezing me hard, sweetheart, can feel all of you."

You bury your face in his neck and wrap your arms around him for comfort as you struggle to take him in, causing his cock to push against your guts with every little movement, gouging its way in and rubbing against your sweet spot. Simon looks down to see the notable bulge where his huge dick rests deep inside you while also helping you bounce slowly onto him.

He copies you, pushing his face into your hair to inhale that dreamy, delicious shampoo you wear, he moves his face down to your pulse point and bites down, laving his tongue over where your pheromones are the strongest. "S-sir, Simon... feels s'good," You croon, pressing your lips onto his and putting little kisses on his mouth.

Experimentally, he snakes his palm between the two of you and pushes down on the bump causing you to flinch hard and bounce so good on his cock. Your moans happen loudly and at the same time. "S-sir! T-too much, oh fuck..." you whimper, lip wobbling as you pinch your eyes shut tightly.

He glides his huge hands over the sensitive flesh on the backs of your thighs. You let out a quiet mewl as he takes control, bouncing you onto his cock like you're a fuck doll.

Simon fucks into you, bullying his fat cock into your sopping pussy by bucking his hips up to meet your downward little bounces, and you can feel every thick inch of his massive cock stretching you open.

"Fuck, your hungry little pussy is squeezing me so fucking tight, sweetheart," He growls, "Can feel every lil' clench as you try to milk my cock. Such a needy, girl, isn't that right?"

He buries himself in you once more, bottoming in and out. Your moans get louder, and you have half a mind to wonder why he isn't shutting you up. Surely barracks aren't soundproof, and everyone must be coming back from dinner by now.

Simon doesn't seem to care about anything but you right now. His cheeks are so flushed and his eyes are dark and dilated. "Look at you, so fucking pretty when you're on my cock." You can only whimper and sob in response, your mind too fucked out to form coherent words. "Fuck, 'm cumming, okay? 'm gonna cum inside you right now, beautiful. Gonna breed you."

With a roar, Simon slams your body down, burying his cock to the hilt inside you as thick, hot ropes of his cum erupt from his throbbing, flared tip. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his hot cum flooding your womb, marking you as his.

You feel each pulse and twitch of his cock as he empties his heavy balls deep inside your spasming cunt, your belly swelling slightly from the sheer volume of his release. He helps you chase your own orgasm, pushing down on your belly some more and angling your body so his cock hits your g-spot incessantly, the heel of his hand brushing against your swollen clit. "There you go. Good girl, it's right there. Can feel you pulsing. Cum for me, pretty."

That's all it takes for you to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling of pleasure as you finish around his cock, moaning as you sink down on him and rock your way through your orgasm, pressing your mouth to his and shoving the hulking beast of a man onto the mattress with his cock still in you so you can kiss him, and then do it all again.

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