#I never clearly said but they all just knew... how deep my connection with that name was | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairene · 8 months ago

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one of your girls / ln4

part one

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

part two

you are just one of his girls. a frequent regular. but something changes, and you are his favorite.

a/n ⋯ how do i explain myself...? guess i can't! this will be divided into two parts for the sake of dramatics, and truthfully i can't contain my excitement to share this with you all. reader's dresses are left to be ambiguous for your imagination, only the cut of the dress is described (perhaps a color, once, but i forget); as usual, it is always up to YOU what you are wearing;) i will be focusing on requests before the next part comes out!

inspiration ⋯ VIDEO

warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), oral(m!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, but not here; non monogamous (yet), insecure reader.

wc ⋯11.3k (unedited.)

your phone rang in from your bag, the vibration shocking you from your conference room in new york. you had been visiting there for your job, meeting with clients, and overall needing to schmooze the entire fucking office. you were sick of it at this point.

and it was sunday, too. who works on a fucking sunday? you. because what’s life without the overtime pay?

until you saw lando’s contact card lighting up your screen. you blushed, instantly, thinking of just how a week ago he had you laid out on his monaco penthouse, screaming and weeping his name while he fucked you rabidly.

you answered, clearing your throat.

“hello?”

“i won! i won!” he shouted, the background noise of crowds drowning out the baritone of his voice. you raised a brow, but were quick to connect the dots. you’d been so busy with work that you’d forgotten that the race must’ve been over, you were only able to watch the beginning before you were swooped up into a meeting.

your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stepped into your office, shutting the door. you couldn’t be loud, and tears began to welt in your eyes. “did you really?”

“yes, yes! god, i’ve wanted this so bad…” he was absolutely full of rile and cheer. you could hear that from his voice clear as day. you were so happy for him. you wiped a stray tear that fell down your face and rolled to your chin.

“i’m so happy for you, lan.” you breathed, laughing when your voice hitched with emotion. you knew that he caught it, letting out his own gasp at your retention.

“you cryin’ for me?” he said your name, know damn well he had a cheeky smirk on his face. you scoffed, rolling your eyes and even he could hear the action.

“shut up. let me be happy for you.” he laughed again, deep and rich, but relieved that you picked up the phone. it was hard for him to get your attention, though you felt vice versa.

“let me be happy, then,” your brows raised at what he meant. “come to miami. tonight.”

you froze, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your work shirt. “lando…” you sighed. “you know i can’t…”

“please…!” he whined into the phone.

your resilience to him was not good. clearly.

“call my boss.” you heard him yip and pop his lips. he was giddy and thrilled that you accepted his advances. it never did take much, though, did it?

you hung up the phone before you could say anything else and settled back into your temporary station before you were back in monaco full time. the office here was more than sufficient and, you couldn’t help but thank god that you were here when lando called. the flight to miami wouldn’t be more than three hours.

your boss knocked on the door a few minutes later with her brows raised.

she spoke her name and you perked up. “you didn’t tell me you had family in miami,” she said, crossing her arms. but she wasn’t angry.

“i do.” the lie was swift. but it wasn't really a lie, was it…?

“your cousin called me, said that you need to use pto hours for a wedding…” she looked at her apple watch. “which is in a few hours?”

you gulped. “what can i say,” you shrugged, “i’m a workaholic.”

your boss shrugged, turning to leave. “take the week off, you deserve it.”

so this is what working so hard got you? damn. you practically leapt off your seat, packing away your laptop and other essentials you had brought to the office. when you were skipping down the steps of the building to the parking garage, you got a text.

flight leaves 6

> one attachment

it was lando. you opened the text as you were unlocking your door, realizing he sent you a boarding pass. he already filled out all your information. he wanted you there that bad, didn’t he? you wouldn’t even consider the two of you close friends rather than buddies who fuck.

you hearted the message and raced home to pack.

when you touched down in miami, there was a car waiting for you outside the airport. you were shocked with such lively treatment, but weren’t one to start complaining. the ride to lando’s hotel wasn’t very long, either, but it was beautiful.

when you stepped out you were greeted by the miami breeze, refreshing from the stagnant air in your humid new york building.

“thought you were gonna chicken out,” his voice was light and airy. you were so dazed by the grandeur of the building that you didn’t see lando standing there at the entrance. you immediately gaped at him, embarrassed that you were caught off guard.

“on what, this? luxury? be for real!” you stifled a laugh. he held out his hand for your bag, and you gave it to him. but it was really meant for your hand.

his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. he peppered light kisses to your neck, but not your mouth. your relationship wasn’t intimate like that, it never was. kissing was the next step to love, you told him, and you never reached for his lips with the amount of times you’ve fucked.

but he did.

there was always something about your aura that allured him. it drew him in like a moth to flame, and he would happily burn if it meant being in your presence. but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he told himself, and neither were you…so you told yourself.

yet you’ve explored each other’s bodies like vestigios conquerors. you knew what made him tick, he knew what made you squirm. it was a fair trade, you thought, and you had no intention of staying exclusive to him.

but you’d make it known to him that when you were both together, there were no other girls around. no boys. it would be just the two of you in your own world, but it was on a time limit.

your hand found the back of his neck, leaning into his lips, but you pulled back when you heard some whispering– paparazzi.

you said nothing as you shifted past him, ripping his head from your neck. he looked confused before he glanced towards the growing crowd around the hotel entrance, some phones being whipped out to record. but he honestly didn’t give a fuck.

but you did. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered as a whore all over your feed. you still needed your fucking job.

“what,” he said, coming closer to you. you took a distancing step back. he came closer. you didn’t move this time. “you didn’t miss me?”

him and his fucking ego.

but you did.

“want me to show you?” you spun around, full of sass. he let out a light laugh, pressing his shoulders back and straightening his posture. little to your knowledge, he was rendered speechless and his dick tightened in his pants. blood flooded to his abdomen, which had him shifting on his feet. this fucking girl.

“come on,” you cooed, nudging his arm. “i came here to celebrate, no? and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet!” you got him there. he nodded, quickling showing you up to his hotel room in miami. it was a beautiful room with a living room and a single bedroom with a king bed.

when you were up there you got a good look, running your hands over the fabric of the couch and the untouched champagne sitting on the coffee table. “this doesn’t count,” you picked up the bottle, turning to face lando from where he stood, placing your luggage on an armchair.

“what? not expensive enough for you?” you rolled your eyes at him, placing the bottle back down on the platter with the glasses. you made haste opening your suitcase, rummaging through the outfits you brought for the duration of your stay, and in particular, your dress.

you pulled out the carefully folded fabric. you held it out in front of you, impressed by the lack of wrinkles, and turned to lando.

his jaw fell agape, staring at the magnificent piece. it was a longer dress that went to your mid calf, and sparkled in the dim lights of the room. he moved closer to you, running his fingers over the fabric. you gulped in his presence.

“shit,” he sighed out, followed by a laugh. “better put it on now.” you raised a brow at him, confused. “else we won’t make it out that fuckin’ door.”

you stifled a giggle and ran towards the bathroom, changing quickly.

there was a knock at the front door when you were just finishing up your look. lando answered when you peeked your head out of the archway to the bathroom. it was carlos.

“ready yet, mate?”

lando shrugged, moving out the way so carlos could make eye contact with you. he said your name with a cheer, brushing past lando to wrap his arms around you. he kissed both your cheeks in greeting, you returned it. lando hummed to himself, wondering what that kind of affection was like from you. guess he’d never know, huh? too intimate, the words rang in his head.

fuck off.

“you flew today?” carlos asked you. you nodded.

“had to celebrate, didn’t i?” you let out a giggle, covering your stained lips when you glanced at lando who was focused elsewhere, his jaw clenching. it had your joy dying in your throat, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t any reason to smile at all.

“of course!” carlos cheered, slapping lando on the back which had him falling back to earth. “can’t believe he finally did it.” lando’s first ever formula one win was an astronomical achievement. you wish you could’ve been there in person.

“neither can i…” your voice trailed when you were focused on his freckled face. a constellation, you called it, and could lose yourself in counting them. and lando was looking at you and your beautiful face. he was addicted to you, he learned, and no girl could fuck him like you could.

carlos glanced between the two of you and raised his brows. “right, then.” he cleared his throat. “let’s get going then, yeah? got the whole grid celebrating you, lando!”

you were quick to put on your heels and grab your clutch. lando waited by the door for you, holding the door open.

when you brushed by him, he grabbed your arm and twisted you around. he pushed his head close to your chest, which had you flushing.

“lando!” you scolded beneath your breath.

“you smell like me,” he raised a brow.

shit. you thought he wouldn’t notice. “grabbed your cologne on accident. was rushing…replaced it with mine, see?” you raised your wrist for him to smell and he did, nose brushing against your sensitive skin. your veins pumped just beneath a thin layer. you felt him inhale and you had shivers running up your spine. he glanced at you again, dropping your hand.

“think mine’s better.”

he meant it. you smelling just like him had him on fucking edge. he didn’t understand why it mattered to him to such a high degree. the primal inclination soaring right over his head, but he knew you were his for the night. longer he would wish, but he would take anything he could get from you.

you only rolled your eyes at him, proceeding to walk down the hall. he caught up with you, hand coming to your lower back to guide you. when you made it to the elevator, he stuck his head into your neck again, breath hot as it fanned against your skin. you leaned into him, but stomped your heeled foot.

“lando…”

he grumbled something inaudible.

“speak, won’t you?” you gripped his chin, pulling him upward.

“driving me fuckin’ crazy.”

your breath caught in your throat. he was always touchy, but it was never this intense. the way he grumbled against the skin of your throat, the needy vibrations which plucked deeply at the strings of your heart. but there shouldn’t be any of your heart involved.

“you’re just a madman, then.”

he chuckled. “gonna lock me up?”

if only, you wanted to say, but held your tongue.

“papaya does look good on you.” you giggled, hand roaming his chest. but you were right about his madness. he was sickeningly crazy. he should be institutionalized, even, in the comfort of your home. what a hell that would be, wouldn’t it?

the drive to the club was short. it wasn’t very far from the hotel. the inside of his expensive mclaren had you dazzled, though it wasn’t really his, just a rental whilst he was in miami. still, your fingers found the pleasure of finding the leather that boarded the doors, wondering just how much leather you could adorn as decoration.

lando, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, debating whether or not his hand would find a good home on the skin of your thigh. your dress had been too long for that, though, and he didn’t…fuck, he didn’t even know. he was anxious to be with you this weekend, not hesitating to call you to be the first one to come down to congratulate him.

he had so many other girls. why did he choose you? he didn’t know it himself, wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such intense truths, but his heart led him astray dialing your phone number. he didn’t even hesitate nor want to connect with another girl, just you.

fucking hell, and you looked heavenly in that dress. he would spend the entire fucking night shifting his pants to hide his stark boner from your eyes.

rolling up to the club, he gave his keys to the valet and you stepped out, fixing the fabric of your scrunched dress. you made your way over to him, elegant as ever, when the cameras began to flash. the amount of attention frightened you, and your phone fell to the ground. it clattered against the pavement.

lando reached down smoothly to pick it up for you, his movements lingering for a moment. when he rose, his hand grazed the back of your exposed calf, trailing up your body to rest on the fabric of your lower back, the top of your ass. you wanted to swat his hand away teasingly, but for the night…you’d allow it. the cameras flashed more and more. lando only separated from you to take a few selfies with fans, but that had been it.

his hand found your back once more, pulling the fabric down that was scrunched at the back. he also did it as an excuse to rest his hand on your ass. guilty!

and you let him. more cameras flashed. he was yours for the evening. so you’d relish in the momentary fame, but would surely be horrified by the comments the next morning. but fuck it, you looked hot in this dress and wouldn’t let these heels go to waste. let them envy you, for you were surely going to envy the next girl on his arm. what? no you weren’t. that thought was fleeting. you were shocked that you imagined of such a scenario.

inside the club was an ambiance of celebratory cadence. it was lively. the bright lights, cheering on goers. everyone seemed to swarm lando, congratulating him and patting him on the back. he was so happy here.

you attempted to shimmy out of the limelight to give him the attention he deserved, but he tightened his hold on you, digging his fingertips into your waist. you were surprised, looking at him with confusion, but he didn’t even take his eyes off of one of the mclaren engineers who attended the festivities.

playing arm candy wasn’t your specialty, but you had the basics down. smile and laugh. straight posture. being fucking perfect. easy stuff, you know? surely sitting in an office chair for your day to day would enthuse a straight spine. surely listening to your old, ratty coworkers jokes would have you rolling with laughter and smiles. surely it was the easiest thing in the world to be perfect for lando norris–

your name was called by a girl at your side. it was alexandra!

you gasped, swinging out of lando’s arms and throwing yourself into her. she caught you, looking absolutely elegant while doing it, and smiled into your hair.

“thank god you’re here!” you cheered, your hands landing on her shoulders to steady yourself. she looked stunning this evening. but she always did. you envied her for that much.

“of course!” her french accent was sweet and endearing. her voice was even softer. “none of us would miss it. i’m glad you’re here!”

alexandra and you had grown a relationship over the past few years you’ve been acquainted with lando. she seemed to always be where you were, and by coincidence, the two of you followed each other on tiktok and realized you had, if not, the same humor. you began messaging each other back and forth, and there you had it– a beautiful friendship between the two of you. being long distance best friends was hard, but it was times like these that you were grateful to see her.

lando had froze when he felt you slip from his grasp, a horrible feeling of incomprehensible dread washing over him that he couldn’t pinpoint why. he interrupted the conversation he was having to see you with your arms wrapped around alexandra, kissing both of her cheeks. his face flushed, hand tightening on the drink he was given by his mates.

why not him?

lando excused himself and clung to your side. you jumped at the feeling of his hand around your waist, eyes snapping up to meet his… irritated ones? you were at a loss as to what could warrant such a look, but you didn’t let it linger when you shifted closer to him, your hips against his thighs. he seemed to relax both his body and face, giving alexandra a smile.

she was amidst congratulating him when charles and carlos approached. rebecca at carlos’ side.

“is this a party or…?” charles remarked, luring you all to the center of the room to dance. lando glanced at you. you could feel his eyes, but you didn’t meet them. not yet. you thought that if you had, you wouldn’t be able to stop tonight. not with how good he looked, not with how he smelled.

on the dance floor was no better. his hands were all over you. it was a bittersweet homecoming to feel so close to you, so flustered. but you loved the way he made you feel. pure adrenaline. alive. your hips swayed and grinded into his own, him matching your pace with a drink in his hand. there had been one in yours too, but you downed it already.

at one point when the beat dropped, they all began to shout his name. you included. his cheeky little smile had him muster the courage to down his drink, emptying the large glass. whoops and hollers filled the club, and there were no more words to describe how magical this night was for him. he would remember it forever, and you couldn’t blame him.

he was magnificent in the spotlight. with a charming tongue, funny jokes, and charisma that had him swooping up any girl he could want. there were a pack of women surrounding him before he pulled you by the arm, interrupting your conversation with alexandra, twirling you to be plastered against his side. the women’s attention didn’t last long after that.

“cheeky, aren’t you?” you raised your lips to his ears, daring to lay one against the top of his throat. you felt him swallow, his adams apple thick and bobbing.

“don’t like to be a cornered animal.” you knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was a layer of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. lando didn’t do well in crowds without flustering with anxiety. to that truth about him, you could toast to.

you were back on the floor with him in a matter of minutes, engaging in conversation with alexandra and charles. lando was talking to others as well, but he was firm against your back, hand on your stomach. the action had you blushing, unable to forget any time that he’d lay his hands there, asking if you could feel him. and you could. now, you could feel the imprint of his cock behind you. you didn’t know how he could last this long without asking you to fuck him in the bathroom, but you weren’t complaining.

yet!

steadily as the night progressed, he would be laced with sweat and the smell of him. a mix of body odor, sure, it smelt like lando. your lando for the night. he flashed you a smile as he leaned over your body from behind, both hands gripping your hips against him.

you returned the gesture, but were much more bashful than he anticipated. you were giving him that look. a look that he had become trained to respond to. his dick instantly hardened. pavlov was onto something, wasn’t he?

you both had been there for hours. you could only handle so many more amped up bass drops. and you were both plastered enough. it was around four in the morning when you were tumbling out, giggling and laughing at who knows what.

one of the valet club drivers even drove the both of you back to the hotel. neither of you are in the state to drive.

in the car, one of your legs was atop his, slotted between his thighs. you could feel his pulsing cock and your mouth watered at the sensation. he was staring at you through dangerously dark eyes, reflecting back your own stare of desire. it was like looking in a mirror for the both of you. ravaging and desperate to have one another’s hands on each other’s bodies.

lando took liberty and lowered his head to your exposed shoulder, pulling down a thin strap of your dress to your bicep. he kissed the skin tenderly, an action too intimate for your own good, but you were too fucking drunk to deny it.

“fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your skin, quiet for only your ears to touch. you let your fingers trace up the side of his face lazily, feeling your gaze spinning beneath his tender words.

“i’m proud of you,” you whispered, brushing a stray curl from his sticky forehead up into the rest of his hairs. “you know that, don’t you?”

your voice had been tender. delicious to his drunken ears. though he knew he’d remember this sober– he had a feeling. how could he forget that tone of voice, your gentle touch, clearly breaking the bounds of what was too intimate.

he gulped, eyes flaring wide at your declaration. his hand found your thighs then, gripping the soft flesh with depth.

your fingers traced down to his bottom lip, puckering the flesh, but dropped to the car seat with a laugh. you brushed off his shocked expression, leaning back into the cool leather. but his grip didn’t relent. he kept his eyes on you, too, unable to find something else to fixate on. you were the object of all of his desires. he confirmed it then when he was desperate to hear more of your unsolicited praises from your lips.

he craved your lips.

lando’s head dropped to your waist, his face nuzzling into your soft flesh. he kissed through the fabric of your dress, desperate to feel you beneath such a guarding sheath from your skin. you turned your head to look at him from where your gaze latched to the window, your hand rolling down the curve of his neck.

you kept your hand there for the remainder of the drive, but didn’t look down at him. you knew you’d be face with those desperate, glistening green eyes of his. you’d fall weak beneath the light of his love, and you’d find yourself disappointed when he didn’t want what you did. a relationship, dare you think it just for one second.

the valet driver dropped the two of you off and was able to manage a cab on his own back to the club. lando tipped him a hundred euros for his time, beginning to sober himself enough to walk in a straight line and speak without slurring his speech.

you were the same. stretching your legs from the car, hands above your head in a dramatic feline stretch. lando’s eyes were on you the entire time, gaping at your figure. your ass. his lip caught between his teeth, and you caught him ogling.

your hips began to sway beneath the music of his eyes. you’re unable to resist his humorous allure, crumbling the second the second the corner of his eyes uplifted. a smile followed, his gapped, perfect, teeth shimmering the reflections of the pale moonlight.

he stretched out his arm for you to join him at his side. you sashayed there, twirling in your heels that ached your feet. but you did it for him. you’d do it all, though the alcohol was driving your thoughts.

lando swooped you into his grasp, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingertips into your hips. you laughed amicably, his presence both a comfort and a feat of pride.

you mustered the strength to break his hold, trotting up the steps of the hotel. your heels were loud in the quiet, tender moments of the rising miami sun, and your giggles even more so. lando wasn’t far behind, skipping the steps to catch up with you.

you’d never seen him hit an elevator button harder. you resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it was an impossible situation to be so loud at dawn. so you bit your fist in your mouth, choking down a sound that lando yearned to hear.

when the elevator arrived he jumped right in, dragging you along– though it’s not like you hesitated– by your elbow.

he immediately began trailing kisses down your throat, the column of your neck, your collarbones, shoulders. he left no place untouched by his devout, worshipping lips. he’d often say in the heat of the moment that you were the best thing he’s ever tasted– a man feral for your sweet nectar– but you just thought it to be the post-euphoria sex high.

the british driver muttered something into your neck which had your eyes flaring wide, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

you pushed his head back, gripping at the curls near the base of his neck. “what did you say?”

he looked flushed. embarrassed. he choked on his words, shaking his head. he was clearly brushing it off.

“nothin’.”

he resumed devouring your neck, saliva dripping onto your dress, but his words bubbled.

the ding of the elevator alerted both of you. he was the one to lead the way to his hotel room, swiftly opening the door with skilled ease, and had you against the wall in minutes. he gripped at the fabric of your dress, tempting to rip it. you hissed with contempt. “don’t,” he looked up at you with heavy eyes and a half toothed smirk, challenging you. “too expensive.”

you felt him scoff against the skin of your chest. “‘too expensive.’” he mocked.

but he heeded your words, gentle with how he lowered the straps to your forearms. your head lolled against the wall, eyes glistening with liquidated pleasure. there was nothing better in the world that could feel better than lando norris’ lips against your skin. each press was a blessing, a kiss of life, hungry for the divination you relented this evening.

“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed when he shimmied you out of the dress, neatly undoing the zipper. you wore nothing under the dress besides panties, which had his eyes gawking at your taut, perked nipples. you shifted forward, desperate for his touch on your suddenly cold body.

lando didn’t wait. his cock was already painfully hard in his pants, punishing the fabric for being so restrictive. he pulsated, precum already ruining the pair.

his lips found your nipple, other palm fisting the firm flesh. you let out a sweet moan that was delicious to his starving ears, your hips bucking into his for a relenting yearn for release. he let out the deepest chuckle from his throat, finding such impending amusement for your desire.

when he was contempt with the titillation of your nipples, he moved to the skin of your belly, biting softly at the skin. enough to leave bruises for his own eyes when he’d see you next. next. there was always a next with you.

but you had other plans.

your hands reached for his face, pulling him to meet your eyes. his own blew wide, flickering to your lips, to your eyes.

“let me,” you whimpered, reaching for the buckle of his pants. he’d stop you, usually intending on getting you off with his lips or tongue before he could even cum. but tonight, he couldn’t resist your lips. you looked up at him with pure heaven written in your iris’.

he swallowed before nodding his head rapidly, his forehead leaning into yours. “yeah, yeah, please.”

lando norris wasn’t a man to beg. he didn’t have to do any of that shit for his other girls– they were always eager to please him, fuck him, suck him off– but for you…

your lips found his neck, feeling the thick muscles with your tongue. it was arousing how muscular each part of his body was, thundering with endurance.

there was a soft mewl in his throat when you slid your hand down the front of his pants, beneath his briefs, over the length of his cock. the sound excited you tenfold– wishing that you could hear it a hundred times over again. it was addicting how he wanted you.

when your finger grazed his tip, his hips bucked instinctively into you, just how yours had. he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall limp into the crevice of your neck.

you laughed into his skin, finally falling to your knees to drop his pants and briefs. his cock sprung free, red and vibrating for your touch. your touch. you often wondered how his other girls treated him. if you were better, if you were the worst. obviously not the worst if he was the one to call you after his first win, right?

one hand stroked his length, traveling to his balls, simultaneously glancing up at him. he was staring down at you, riddled with urgency, a pleading look reflecting in your eyes. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when his hand found the back of your head, stroking the sides of your face.

his thumb caressed your bottom lip. it caused your lips to open for him, and his thumb found your tongue. you swirled it around the pad of his finger, never breaking the shared look between you two. you let him go with a pop, and he found his hand at the base of your neck again, hand wrapping a makeshift ponytail with his hand.

your lips swirled around the head of his cock, swallowing the precum that dampened his briefs. he held back a rumble in his throat which annoyed you, so you took him wide in your mouth, bottoming him out in the back of your throat.

your cunt clenched around nothing when his whole body sang in praise of your lips. he faltered when you began a steady pace of back and forth, stimulating his balls with your other hand. curses fell from his lips, sinful words, and he gripped your hair tightly. with his other one, he fell forward against the wall, bracing for dear life.

but you didn’t relent. faster and faster you went, and you were awarded by his hips snapping into you, cock gagging your windpipe. you choked, tears forming in your eyes, but it was divine how satisfying it was. to see his eyes rolling back into his head, hands shaking, desperate to feel you up. from this position, below him, you could see the entire world. you had it all on the tip of your tongue.

“fuck, baby…” he groaned. you felt so good around him. warm and tight. it felt like fucking home for him. somewhere he’d always come back to. and he would. no other girl could make him feel this way, had him about to cum in a matter of three minutes. your lips were made to take his cock, and he would yell that to hell and back for the entire world to know.

he felt you moan against his cock, the sound echoing in your throat. he swallowed harshly, drool dripping down the side of his chin at the sight of you alone. you were perfect.

and when your hand came to run over your nipples, kneading at the skin of your breasts, he felt his abdomen tighten. you found so much pleasure in sucking him off that you felt the need to touch yourself. fuck, he never thought he’d see something so hot in his entire life.

he knew he’d been done for in a matter of seconds. with a firm grip of your hair, he pulled you back from his cock. you looked offended, disappointed when the drool from your lips trailed down your chin.

“not yet,” he uttered, gripping the side of your face with his other hand. his cock was angry, furious at the lack of attention. he was practically fucking edging himself. “wanna cum inside you.”

say less, you wished to say, but all that came out from your lips was a whine.

and then you were laid out on your back on his bed. the white sheets were clean and made, cold beneath your scorching skin.

lando traced two fingers up your thigh, the junction of your hips, your waist. you shivered, toes clenching at the sensation. then to your naval, your pussy, your dampened underwear. a ruined pair, no doubt. he smirked, lip curling.

“all for me, huh?”

you nodded instantly.

his hand slapped against your flushed pussy. you whimpered, grasping at the sheets.

“words, pretty girl.”

“yes!” you gasped when you felt him tug the underwear down your legs. “you, you, you, lando. all you.”

he practically purred. your folds were swollen and glistening, drenched from how his cock pounded into your mouth. “so wet,” he observed, twisting his fingers to trail up your slit, gathering the slick between his fingers. he raised the pair to his mouth, tasting your sweet juice on his tongue. your legs pulsed together, eager for friction, a quiet mewl leaving your throat at the sight. “tastes like heaven.”

“lando…” you were getting impatient now. rightfully so. he stood there with his hardened cock, teasing you with his firm fingers.

“what’dya want, baby? hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be. yet he’d trace his hands gently up the sides of your body, fingers dancing over your nipples. you writhed.

“you.” you said endearingly. “fuck me, lan, please.”

he was so impressed with your manners that he couldn’t resist slipping his cock inside of you. atop of you he caged you in, a blessed enclosure, lips pressing to your exposed chest. you whined at the initial stretch, always finding yourself so tight around his thick cock.

“fuck, lando.” you hissed, teeth clenching at his immaculate girth. it was a pleasurable burn, and your arousal only had you clenching around him. he huffed through his nose, hot hair breathing over your skin.

“i know, baby,” he reassured you with his bittersweet voice. “y’can take me, can’t you? always such a good girl for me.”

you whined at his words, low moan bellowing in your throat. you squelched with your slick and he could feel it. he smirked, having the gall to chuckle, even. but you didn’t punish him for it, especially not when he began to move his hips back and forth, a pair of fingers coming to rub against the bundle of nerves placatated at your clit.

the sensation of feeling him slip in and out of you was impeccable. you could find no other pleasure than his cock nestled inside of you, filling you to the absolute hilt of your dreams. the imprint of his dick had him riled with lust when it ran over your lower belly.

“feel me here,” his hand came to grab yours, bringing it to the imprint of his cock inside of you. “don’t you?”

you nodded, lip catching between your teeth and opposite hand threading through his curls as if you were a needle and thread. “so good, lando, please. keep going.”

and he did. if you asked him to do anything right now, he would’ve. the slapping of skin echoed in the hotel room, filling silence with vulgar sounds from both of your lips. lando was a moaning mess at the pulses of your cunt, intent on sucking him dry from his cum. and he was an expert at navigating your clit, pinching and swirling the rough pads of his fingers.

your eyes rolled in the back of his head when you bucked your hips for a better angle. “deeper,” you said, finding a grim satisfaction at the thought of him splitting you open.

his eyes flashed to yours, bloodshot and red with lust, and shifted so your thighs were over his shoulders. your back arched for him and he was pleased to see your receptiveness. his hips didn’t falter, and neither did his hands.

this angle had been more than what any gospel could provide. more than any destiny written out for you. fucking him was written in the stars, you knew it for certain, and you blossomed into a glistening constellation before him. for he was the entire universe for you, and you just a mere fractal in the midst of it all.

but oh, how that wasn’t true. how you were the sun in which he orbited, woke up and thought of. you were the first person that he called after his father, needing your presence with him in miami. he needed this. your cunt. your pleasures, your moans. you, it was on the tip of his tongue, edging its way forward through the kisses he laid upon your neck.

you were drenched in his saliva, coated in the thick musk of lando norris. he would never say it aloud but he dreamed of the day to see his cum dripping down your thighs, full of him, the remnants of your love affair sticky and haughty with each step that you’d take.

it was a primal instinct that became so vicious. it overtook him, thwarting him into a dick-measuring contest whenever you went out with him. he’d keep you close. his, the message would be clear. no man would approach you when he had his hand on your lower back, your hips in his hands, your pelvis grinding against his own. you were his own keepsake. the light at the end of the tunnel. a brazen warrior that he’d follow into any battle.

the only battle he was intending on winning was the war of your heart, blessed be his troops.

it only took a few more harsh thrusts of his cock and twiddling of his fingers before you were painfully close to a release. he could feel it. he knew it like the back of his hand. your trembling legs, intense writhing against his hold, your breathy moans. he wished he could take a picture of you, flushed and desperate, and keep it in his wallet.

“come on, baby.” he urged, feeling the own heat of his orgasm rising in his lower stomach. he had been resisting the urge to cum for your sake, always finding a deeper satisfaction in seeing your overstimulated face after the fact.

“come for me, won’t you? pretty thing. i’ve got you,” the words of praise that were only meant for you. he didn’t call any of his other girls ‘baby’, but you wouldn’t know that. you couldn’t know. it would ruin all of this, wouldn’t it? wouldn’t it?

i’ve got you, he said tenderly. it’s what had you compulsing, drenching his cock in your slick. your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the euphoria of what was lando norris’ pleasure.

he was staring at your worn out face, his own tongue coming to swipe at his bottom lip. he was ready to feast on you.

lando’s own orgasm was swift to follow. the rhythm of his hips faltered, sloppily, aggressively. the overstimulation against the walls of your cunt was delectable.

“come for me,” you begged him. it had his eyes flaring once more, shocked to hear such a request from your pretty lips. “inside me, lan, need it…”

“fuck…” he groaned, and with one last snap of his hips he was spilling out inside of you. his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. your chests moved in unison, catching your breaths after such an intense fuck.

you were sticky against him. his body fell atop of yours, and your hands wrapped around his back. one hand came to run up and down his neck again, which had his eyes fluttering with sleep. but he didn’t let himself, and instead moved to get a towel for you both.

he slipped outside of you, the warmth of your cunt had his expression falling. he saw your face, too, empty once he made his way to the on suite. he grabbed a handheld towel and ran it under the warm water, and crossed the space between the bathroom and the bed.

lando let it run up your thighs, between your legs. your cunt was swollen still, his cum thick and dripping from your slit. he smirked to himself, cleaning the remnants of himself from the immediate vicinity, but wouldn’t go further.

you were aware. entirely too aware of how warm you felt. how filled you were. it was filthy how good sex with him was. you could never orgasm with any man but him.

lando fell to the bed beside you, opening the sheet for you to slip in beside him. you hesitated, never having spent an entire night with him, except for a few drunk evenings. did this count? you weren’t sure. you’d certainly remember that mind blowing orgasm.

but his eyes were drooping with sleep, weary when you hesitated. you couldn’t resist, and slid in beside him, comforted by the furnace of his body.

lando’s head found home, once more, in the side of your neck. you brushed the hairs from his sweating forehead, roamed through his scalp. you ran circles through his hair until you heard the soft snores coming from him. it only took a few seconds for him to fall asleep in your arms and for once, you were perfectly content with that. if this was what your life would be, then so be it.

the british driver woke approximately twenty four hours later.

when he woke, you were not there.

he was startled as he searched for you, but there was no sign of you. he sat up in his bed, sun peeking in through the curtains. he rubbed his eyes, hand resting on the spot that you had laid in. there was an imprint from your body.

when he checked his phone, he knew he was in deep shit.

“fuck.” it really had been a full day that he slept through.

but there were no texts from you.

his gut tightened, heart beating loudly in his throat. why are there no texts from you?

he scanned the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand, previously iced from the ring of water around the side of it. and there was a note, too, with some ibuprofen. he picked it up.

had a good night

proud of you always

text me when you’re up x

and it was signed by you.

he folded the piece of paper.

he supposed it was a good night. the best sex he’s ever had, in fact, and wouldn’t forget his own confession in the elevator. he wasn’t sure if you heard it or not, but there was a part of him that wanted you to.

“you were always my favorite,” he spoke into the column of your neck.

the next time you saw lando was in monaco.

you were back home and invited by alexandra to the paddocks for the home race of charles. you accepted, of course, hoping to catch a glimpse of lando.

you hadn’t texted him much, but neither had he. you heard first from him on that tuesday morning and it had you smiling at the airport, bags in hand. you texted back, and it was sporadic from there on out. it’s been a few days since either of you’ve said a word, and it was beginning to wane on you.

alexandra repeated your name.

“yeah?” you responded, head snapping towards her direction.

“i asked if you were feeling alright.”

“oh.” you breathed, laughing it off. “of course, do i not seem okay?” alexandra shook her head, petting leo’s little head in her hands.

“you’ve been quiet, that’s all.”

and you had been. but since she noticed, you were determined to make her forget about it.

“nervous for charles,” you lied. but alexandra bought it and agreed with you, shedding her anxieties for her boyfriend’s home race.

you were standing on the balcony with her in ferrari’s hospitality. you looked elegant today, matching alexandra’s own vibe. your hands were clasped together as you were leaning down, watching the drivers go in and out for their free practice.

alexandra was still ranting about how nervous she was for charles when you saw him.

the papaya was noticeable from anywhere.

lando

lando and company.

a girl trailing behind him. her hair was done neatly, blonde, painfully thin. you grimaced against your will, face scrunching with a bitterness you had never felt before.

alexandra tapped your elbow before she looked down at what you were staring at.

“asshole.” she remarked, scoffing.

you raised a brow. “you think so?”

alexandra nodded as if it was obvious. “don’t know why he brings them around,” she sighed. “not when he could have you.”

you never felt so flattered before. you blushed, thanking her for saying something so kind. though you denied having feelings for him. she knew it was a lie this time.

lando glanced up at the balcony, finding your eyes inevitably. he could feel your stare at the back of his head.

and he fucking waved.

the girl beside him looked up, too, but she did not.

you could see lando’s smile from up here, but in your intensive bitterness, you did not wave back. you stood and turned to go back into ferrari’s hospitality, not thinking twice about your decision.

the rest of the weekend you spent in bitter earnest. you’ve never seen yourself in such a state. but you plastered on a smile for alexandra and charles, entirely too elated when he crossed the finish line first in monaco. you held her as she weeped with joy.

and, of course, you were invited to the festivities for the evening. your attitude was soured by the girl latched to lando’s arm throughout the entire weekend. but he looked so nonchalant with her, careless. none of it mattered. you’d put on your best dress for the evening.

in the club you were found nursing a martini in your hand, not quaint on the taste, but were keen on getting wasted. you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit storm of emotions were brewing inside of your head. seeing lando with another girl was not new for you to witness. it was the norm, in fact, and you never thought about it otherwise.

but something changed that night of his win in miami. you knew it. he knew it. the words he uttered into your neck in that elevator was sending you up the wall and skyrocketing into the abyss of the universe. and you believe that somehow, he would find you.

he would find you.

lando saw you instantly when you entered with alexandra and charles. rebecca and carlos paired together, too, leaving you the odd one out with no arm candy on display. good, the thought was impulsive.

the girl beside him was giggling at something he said. but it wasn’t meant as a joke. he was convinced that she just had no idea what he was talking about, and was eager for a good fuck from him. he knew his skills of pleasure were not in comparison to any low life dude, but no girl could fulfill the void of receptiveness. of yearning desire.

so when he tilted his head back to down the rest of his drink, he grimaced at the taste, and turned back to the girl he brought with him. but he kept stealing glances at you in your short dress. it was like you were punishing him– were you? he suddenly felt like a dog, a bad boy, reared and chained to the dog house outside your house of a heart.

but you didn’t see him. not for a while, actually. you were intent on staying true to your morals– staying away from him this evening. he only brought trouble for you. confusion. you were sick of this back and forth, and most importantly, this rotten feeling of jealousy. it wasn’t a good look on you, or so you thought.

“dance with me?” alexandra asked you. you accepted, of course, grabbing her hand and holding it high above the crowds as she led you to the dance floor. you were both twirling and laughing with your drinks in hand, purely electric with the rap music. charles joined her, gripping her from behind. you couldn’t help but watch, gulping down the feeling of envy.

alexandra noticed. she knew what you were going through, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud. your ‘relationship’ with lando has gone on for far too long without any real commitment. everyone knew he was your favorite girl to be around, except you. you were the only one, apparently, who didn’t know that lando looked at you like a goddess reincarnate.

and when you shook off your thoughts of envy, your eyes found another pair staring back at you.

sharp emeralds, piercing through the musk of the club.

your breath hitched, catching solemnly in your throat.

the blonde was grinding up against him, throwing her head back against his shoulders. one hand was on her hip, the other with an empty shot glass in his hand. the girl was enjoying herself, at least, and you wondered if he fucked her the same as he did you.

his eyes didn’t leave yours as his hips swayed in motion with hers. his hair was disheveled, a coat of sweat gleaning on his forehead.

the pair of you were waiting to see who would break first. who would succumb to the challenge. you wanted so desperately to win, to grab another random man and kiss on his neck, but you were detested.

the air inside the club felt heavy, and the world would collapse on you. the weight was too much on your shoulders as you became lightheaded.

“i need air,” you said to alexandra before you fled from the dance floor, leaving your glass on the counter.

the air of monaco was brisk when it pierced your skin, your thighs, your shoulders. but it was a much needed refreshment from the confines of that fucking club. you felt nauseous, sickened by lando’s eye contact with you. how dare he.

you looked around before turning the corner of the club, seeing a pair of men smoking a cigarette.

“care to share?”

the men glanced at one another and the one holding the pack nodded. he handed you one and you placed it to your lips. he held out the lighter, too, and lit it for you.

you weren’t one to smoke. it was a drunk cigarette kind of night.

they insisted on you staying with them, talking each other up to be some pair of scrouges who deserved your attention. you politely declined their advances and walked the other way, feeling colder when the tobacco hit your lungs.

when you blew out your first puff, it wasn’t long before the cigarette was ripped from your lips.

“hey–”

“this shit isn’t good for you.”

lando.

he found you out here. rather, he chased you out. the minute he saw you turn your back he scrambled, pushing past every person that came in his way.

you scoffed, unable to look at him as you crossed your arms.

“you don’t know what’s good for me.”

he paused, sucking in a tight breath. his jaw clenched. the cigarette was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his foot.

“rude–” you uttered, cut off when he grabbed your elbow. that had you looking at him. and his expression didn’t disappoint.

his eyes were widened, pupils blown wide as he looked into your own. his lip trembled momentarily, jaw entirely too tight for his own good.

“what’s going on with you?” he wondered, holding eye contact with you.

“nothing.” you answered instantly, brushing him off. but he didn’t accept that.

“‘nothing,’” he mocked. “you’re not a very good liar.”

you hummed. “thanks.”

the conversation widdled down, but he wasn’t about to give up.

“tell me,” he requested, his face pulling closer to yours. you had to give it to him. he was determined. but you were too.

“there’s nothing to tell.” you bit back.

“i care about you. come on–” your name fell sweetly from his lips. he was prepared to grovel at any second now.

but you cut him off. “ohhh…! yeah, right, you care? pfft, no need to pretend, lando.”

he pulled back, shocked that you got in his face. your words were cruel, but he felt the double meaning behind them.

“what?” he asked, softly. you knew then that he was hurt.

but jealousy was a monster.

“i wish i was as stupid as you think i am.” you rambled, hands thrown up with emotion. but you were done with this conversation. “fuck it, i’m leaving–”

but he used his other hand to ground you before him. “don’t.” he pleaded. eyes watering.

“what? like you’d notice?”

then the bells chimed in his head. an alert that he understood what this was. he was stupid in not knowing what was happening before him.

you’re jealous.

“didn’t take you for a jealous type.”

you scoffed. “you’re ridiculous.”

but he shook his head and tsked. “can’t believe it, baby, that you hid it for so long.”

“fuck you.”

he blew out a huff of air as if he were wounded, hand coming to run over his chest. it was a fatal one, that was for sure. you tried again to push past him, but to no avail nor universe would he let you go.

“come home with me.”

his words were determined, sincere, though there was a layer of softness to it. like unsweetened honey that poured from his lips.

you stared at him. “what?”

he laughed. “you heard me. let me take you home.”

you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. couldn’t tell if he was mocking you. your facial expression dropped from its intense anger.

“don’t…” you started, feeling the heat of emotions that you’ve been burying come to the surface. your eyes swelled with tears but fuck, you promised you’d never cry over him. “don’t be mean, lando.”

his smile dropped. he knew then that you weren’t playing around, messing with him in the ways you usually had. what was this feeling inside of him? guilt? he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever he’s done. the instinct blazed a fire through his veins, igniting a deep rooted reaction that he feared only you could bring out of him.

his hand came to cup your cheek. you flinched backward, staring at the palm of his hand through your wet lashes, but allowed his touch.

“come here…” his hand dropped from your cheek to hold out for you to melt into. an invitation for a hug.

you hesitated, shifting closer on your tip toes. when you were in close enough reach, he grabbed you, earning a yelp.

his body was warm. he pulled you flush against his chest, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. his hands were wrapped firmly around your torso. was he shaking?

he was. lando was wrought with a surplus of emotion when he saw your anger diffuse. he loved to feel all of your emotions, it reminded him that you cared about him. but when he saw it disappear, faze into an abyss of melancholy, his heart set into overdrive. he never got such a rush of adrenaline before. not from racing. not from anything else in his life.

you relaxed into him, shutting your eyes. there was a wet stain from the single tears that fell from your face on his shirt.

but you didn’t care. he smelled so good. it was lando. your lando.

“let me take you home.”

your nose buried into his shirt. his stubble dug into your neck.

“your place,” you muttered. “i want to go to yours.”

his place was always for special occasions. but to your unbeknownst knowledge, you were the only girl he’s ever taken there. the only woman he’s fucked in his bed.

he stuttered. “yeah,” he cleared his throat. “yeah, of course we can.”

you didn’t even end up texting alexandra goodbye. you were too wrung tight with your jealousy, coined poignantly by lando himself. he was quick to catch on to your attitude shift, but you could tell he was frightened. at least you wished for it to be.

but he was. his heart plummeted when your anger reached him. it did more than touch him, it ripped him apart, had his heart bleeding in plain sight. anyone could see it except you. it was never you who saw the love beneath his eyes.

lando’s apartment was just how you remembered it to be.

open space, loosely decorated. it was rather bland.

“you kept it!” you ran your fingers over the displayed teddy bear, one that you had won for him at a fair.

he shut the door behind you two, locking it. he let out a soft hum. “‘course i did.”

he said it like it was obvious. he would never get rid of anything that you’d give him. you squeezed the teddy bear in your palms, but dropped it when you felt lando’s arms wrap around your waist from behind.

his lips found your neck in an instant.

“i missed you.”

you tensed. back arching, you turned your head to look at him, angled perpendicular to his face burrowed into the junction of your neck and collarbones.

“really, now?”

he chuckled against your skin, fanning his warm breath through your body. the hairs on the back of your neck rose instinctively, choosing to hold your breath instead of express anger. though you couldn’t help the huff through your nose.

“you’re so vicious when you’re jealous, darling.” he thought this was funny. it angered you even more, attempting to writhe out of his hold. but he didn’t relent, keeping you taught against his chest. asshole.

“am not.”

he tsked.

“sure.” he continued his trail of kisses down your neck. you fell into him, head lolling back and eyes rolling. fuck, his lips were always so good. he was so good to you.

“am not.” you said again, biting back a moan when his hands came to your forefront, parting your legs for his hands to rest between your thighs.

“whatever you say.”

your hips grinded against his own in retaliation which had him humming in soft praises. his fingers trailed the lining of your panties, other hand holding your hip firmly .

“because i’m not–” the moan that was pulled from your throat was pure divinity to lando’s ears. his fingers had run up your slit, teasing your entrance. blood ran down to your body, fueling your cunt to a puffy state. your weight went lax against his hold, which he was perfectly capable of supporting you.

“not what?” he dared you to continue, not when he had you numb in his hold already. he was clearly cocky. you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“i’m not–” you were determined. but lando was coming back in full force. his middle finger teased you, pushing between your slick, finding the warmth of your walls. you sucked in a tight breath, feeling just how wet you’ve become.

“so wet, baby,” he said into your ear. “what were you saying?”

“fuck–” you sighed, whining. “i’m not jeal–”

and then he seized the bundle of nerves around your clit, curling his middle finger inside of you. you cursed, sweat beginning to bead around your forehead.

“mhm.” lando proved himself right when you couldn’t mutter out a sentence, becoming dumb on his fingers alone. he began a steady pace with just a singular digit, flexing in and out of you supported by your natural lubrication.

“more–” you pleaded. it had him standing up straight, reacting to your soft pleas like he was a dog to a treat. pavlov, and all that shit. he found himself staring down at the sight of your two– his finger etching in and out of you, drenched in your sweet nectar. if he was no better than a dog, why was he about to drool?

“yeah? you can take another?” you were rapidly nodding against the back of his shoulder, biting your lip.

“yes, please. please, lando.” you mewled, gripping at his forearms that caged you in. you never wanted to be chained down, but for pleasure like this, you felt as though you could make an exception.

he obeyed. adding a second finger was close enough to your release, and you knew that was barreling forward at any minute. if he kept this assault of your clit up and the delicious curl of his fingers, you would melt into a puddle.

and you knew he would. if lando started something, he would finish it. the only priority for him was to make sure you reached an orgasm. that was a promise, forever and always.

he found himself bucking his hips into you, the sight of you weak in his arms becoming too much for him to handle. the friction between his pants and your hot cunt was too irresistible. what can he say? you were just pure bottled heaven.

his thumb had been applying more intense pressure to your clit. your face was entirely flushed now, brightened from his attention. he was entirely to carnal to hear the noises you made. noises for him to hear, no one else.

but his pace was slow. teasing. you felt like this was a punishment. your lip curled, face contorting with both pleasure and angst. “please, please.” you whimpered.

“what, baby? what do you want?” smug. always so smug.

you gripped his hand that was flexing inside of you, tightening your grip. he chuckled deeply.

“wanna come? that what you want?”

your head bobbed up and down, breaths coming in fast pants. “need.” you corrected him, and he thought that he would fall dead at your feet. his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing, and he would give you want you needed.

you needed him.

that was all that he needed to hear from you.

you turned your head to look up at him with your bloodshot eyes, dreary with lust. lust for him. your lashes fluttered against your brow line, lip quivering with a singular wish.

he wanted nothing more to kiss you.

“fuck.” he groaned, your thighs were drenched in your slick, a sight he thought could never be hotter. and when he curled his two fingers sweetly, your hips bucked aggressively. he knew exactly how to navigate your body, but it was always so thrilling to see you react in such a way.

“yeah?” he smirked, “that good?”

“so good, lan,” the nickname you used for him was not intentional. it had his dick throbbing in his pants. fuck.

your words of praise would only have him working harder. he didn’t even need to add a third finger when your stomach snapped with tension, coming loose all over his fingers. your vision blurred, legs shaking rapidly. you cried out, head lolled against his shoulder. he held you tightly, and you didn’t miss how he stroked your hip with his thumb. a soothing action.

how he could ever find this kind of pleasure in another woman, he didn’t know. but the challenge begged– could he ever admit that?

his fingers remained buried in your cunt whilst you rode yourself free from your high. it was impossible to look anywhere else but you.

and when he removed them, showing you the mess you made, his popped them into his mouth. it was such a vulgar statement, but you found yourself blushing. he sucked on his fingers, letting them out with a pop, clean as a whistle.

“heavenly.” he reaffirmed. “no girl compares.”

you froze, still delirious from your orgasm, but it had you spinning in his hold. he was slightly blurred in your vision, but you could make out his faintly cocky expression.

“really, huh?”

your attitude would have him rising, cocky attitude falling away instantly.

he gulped. “guess so.” was this it?

a smile grew on your face. your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, grooming through the back of his head. he smiled lazily, lip catching between his top teeth.

but things like this didn’t last forever, did they?

there was a pounding knock at the door. it had you frightened, shifting your panties back into their rightful place. your fingers fixed your appearance the best you could, whilst lando adjusted his dick in his pants.

“open the fucking door, lando!”

it was a woman’s voice.

your brow raised.

“i know you’re in there with that bitch,” the woman seethed. you could feel her anger through the door– but you could feel your own flying through the roof. bitch? you didn’t fucking think so.

you pushed past lando who was about to open the door and he called your name, attempting to stop you.

the door flew open. “bitch?”

the blonde girl stood there. she clearly didn’t expect you to open the door. but she didn’t back down; fine.

“yeah. bitch.” you straighten your posture. “he told me not to worry about you–” what? “and here you are, fucking him.”

not quite, you wanted to correct her.

“fuck off,” he said the girl’s name. “me and you aren’t a couple.” but she rolled her eyes anyway.

“you promised me a good fuck, lando,” she had such a venom to her bite. it had you bristle. “i didn’t think you’d stoop so low.”

“hey, now, don’t be–” lando started, but you were done. you had enough of this night. you turned back into his apartment and grabbed your handbag, your phone, and threw on your heels. you didn’t hesitate brushing past the pair.

lando called your name.

but you only turned your head over your shoulder. your gaze read an entire sentence that he felt up his entire body.

two can play this game.

4K notes · View notes

saintobio · 2 months ago

Text

blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night.

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be.

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep.

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books.

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it.

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

#series: sincerely yours #sy drabbles

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joeliz99 · 2 months ago

Text

Under the Spotlight- Harry Styles

Description: Harry faces the pressure of headlining Wembley, seeking comfort and connection in (Y/N) who helps him through his anxiety before and after the show, leading to a tender, playful moment between them.

Warnings: None, Fluff, RPF Fic.

________________________________________________

The Show Night

Harry had been performing on massive stages for years—stadiums, festivals, arenas, all of it was second nature to him. The crowds, the lights, the adrenaline—they were all part of his world. But something had shifted on the last few days. Anxiety, something he'd been familiar with before, had begun to creep in, quietly and unexpectedly. At first, it was just the smallest hint of nervousness before shows, easy to dismiss. But now, it had become something bigger, something he couldn’t shake.

Tonight was a lot on the line, though. Tonight was Wembley. His first time headlining the iconic venue as a solo artist. The weight of the occasion wasn’t lost on him, but he wouldn’t admit how much it was affecting him. His family, his closest friends, his team—everyone was counting on him to be Harry Styles, the rock star. The one who took the stage with unshakable confidence. And Harry wasn’t sure he was ready to deliver that version of himself tonight.

She had flown in from another country to be there, a surprise Harry hadn’t expected but one that meant the world to him. They hadn’t seen each other in months, but she knew how important this show was to him, and she wanted to be there. Even if it was just to stand by him, to offer her quiet support.

In the hours leading up to the performance, Harry had appeared his usual self—talking, laughing, joking around with his team and family. He seemed normal, almost too normal. But as the time passed, a subtle shift occurred. He became quieter, more withdrawn. His smiles were forced. He kept rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed in concentration, as though he were trying to focus on something else entirely.

When he stepped out of the shower, the energy in the room had changed. His movements were slow, almost mechanical. There was a stiffness in his posture, a quietness in the way he interacted with his crew. A few polite smiles, a few nods, but nothing more. He’d asked for a moment alone, and there was something in the way he said it that made her pause. But she didn’t press. She excused herself to chat with Gemma, but when her phone buzzed, she knew instantly it was Harry.

“Can you come to my camerino?”

Without thinking, she stood and made her way down the hall, knocking on the door softly before opening it.

Harry stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt. His back was to the door, but she could see his shoulders were tense, his posture rigid. As soon as he heard the door creak, he turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. His lips were twisted into a faint frown, and his expression was tight.

The sight of him—a man who was usually so full of life and energy—struck her deep. This wasn’t the Harry she knew. This was someone else. Someone struggling with something inside.

She stepped forward slowly, concern flooding her chest. “Harry, what’s going on? Are you not feeling okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, staring at his reflection, his gaze distant. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, but his eyes never left the mirror. He was clearly lost in his thoughts, battling something he couldn’t put into words. She placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, feeling how tense and hot his skin was.

“H, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft but firm as she gently turned his body toward her.

His eyes locked onto hers for a brief moment. There was a storm in them—a swirl of anxiety and frustration. But he said nothing. For a long beat, he just stared at her, before his shoulders dropped. The tension in his body seemed to ease, but his eyes fell to the floor.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice low. “I hate feeling… vulnerable. I don’t know why I can’t just shake it off tonight.”

Her heart ached at the rawness in his words. This wasn’t the confident rock star who owned the stage. This was Harry, the man behind the persona, and right now, he was struggling.

She gently rubbed her thumb across the back of his neck. “It’s okay. You don’t have to shake it off, Harry. You’re human. It’s alright to feel nervous.”

He let out a small, bitter chuckle. “I should be used to this by now. I’ve done this a thousand times. But tonight... it feels different.”

Her fingers traced the line of his jaw as she looked at him, searching his eyes. She knew exactly what this was. The weight of expectation, the pressure, the fear of disappointing people—it was all too much, even for someone as resilient as Harry. But the most painful part, the part she could see in his eyes, was the fear of not being enough.

“You’re not going to disappoint anyone,” she said quietly, her voice steady. She placed her hand gently on his cheek. “You’re already enough, Harry. You’ve always been enough.”

His gaze softened at her words, and for the first time in what felt like hours, there was a flicker of relief in his eyes. He closed them for a moment, taking in her words. When he finally opened them, he smiled—just a little—but it was different. There was a quiet sincerity in it.

“Apparently you always know what to say,” he said, his voice softer now while his hand pulled a simple thread that came out of the sleeve of her sweater for the second time.

“I just know you,” she replied with a small smile, her fingers running through his hair. “And I know you’re going to kill it tonight.”

Harry smiled again, but this time it reached his eyes. The weight on his shoulders seemed a little lighter. He gave her a playful, side-eyed glance, trying to lighten the mood. “You sure you’re not a witch or something?”

She laughed, the tension finally breaking between them. “No, I’m just very charming,” she teased back.

He raised an eyebrow, still smirking. “That’s what they all say.”

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “Exactly. Now, let’s go out there and show the world what you’ve got, rock star.”

The Show’s Aftermath

The concert was a massive success. The crowd was still buzzing with energy as the crew packed up, but Harry? He was practically glowing. The adrenaline from the performance was still coursing through his veins, and the usual lightness he exuded was back in full force.

As he moved through the backstage area, his eyes quickly found her, and a grin spread across his face the moment he caught sight of her. His posture had shifted from tense to effortlessly confident—he was the charismatic, playful and childish guy everyone adored.

He brushed past his team, barely noticing anyone else, and practically bounded toward her. His steps were quick and light, the weight of the performance lifting from his shoulders. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate. His arms were already around her before she could say anything, pulling her into a bear hug that made her laugh.

“You’re insane,” she said, breathless, her hands sliding up his back to hold onto him. “That was… incredible.”

Harry squeezed her tighter, lifting her slightly off the ground, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his exuberance. “Did you see that crowd? They were wild! I think they liked it,” he teased, his voice full of excitement.

“I think they loved it,” she shot back, smiling up at him. His energy was contagious, and she could feel the warmth of his enthusiasm radiating off him. She grinned up at him, teasing, “I’m starting to think you might actually be a rock star.”

“I know, I know.” He grinned, tapping his chest. “It’s tough being this good, but someone’s gotta do it.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Alright, alright. Relax. See why I can't hype you up too much?”

Harry’s smile softened for a moment, his playful expression giving way to something a little more sincere. He reached out to brush a stray piece of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “No, but... Jokes aside. I couldn’t have done it without you, you know? You’re always right there when I need you. Tonight it felt like everything came together.”

She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth in her chest. “I’m just glad I could be here.”

But before she could say anything else, Harry’s energy surged again, his hands grabbing her shoulders playfully. “Oh! And by the way… I’m not done celebrating. We should totally go somewhere, get out of here, just us.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You just finished a massive show, and you want to keep going?”

“Especially because I just finished a massive show,” he said, grinning wider. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Come on. You know you can’t say no to me.”

She looked up at him, seeing the familiar twinkle in his eyes—the kind of spark she couldn’t resist. It wasn’t just the excitement of the show; it was him, the way he was with her, the way he made everything feel light and easy, even in the chaos.

“I swear,” she said, laughing again, “you have way too much energy.”

“You love it,” he teased, winking. “Before we head out, I should probably make the rounds and not leave everyone wondering where the hell I disappeared to,” , his grin widened as he gave her a quick squeeze.

She mimicked his expression raising an eyebrow and playing with the collar of his opened buttoned up shirt. "Ugh... I guess".

“We’ll sneak out soon, I promise.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear and before she could respond, his lips captured hers in a slow, lingering kiss.

It was slow at first, soft and sweet, as if he was savoring the moment—the success of the night, the closeness they shared, and maybe the peace of knowing that, even after all the chaos of the show, this was where he felt most himself.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer, and he responded with a deep, contented sigh. His hands rested gently on her back, just as she could feel the warmth of his lips and the steadiness of his heartbeat until Harry pulled back just slightly.

“I really did miss you,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere.

She smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I know. I missed you too.”

He grinned, his playful energy returning. “Alright, now that’s enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s go.”

Harry slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him, as they stepped back to the reality of the backstage chaos. His fingers brushed against hers, intertwining effortlessly, the sound of the crew packing up and the distant chatter engulfing the whole place.

“I promise, just a little longer and we’re out of here.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #one direction #harry styles rpf

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greengoblinswifey · 28 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/greengoblinswifey/771997285730205696/thanks-for-ur-answers-on-the-dbfrafe-asks-im

OMG YESSS, I was dying for them to have an actual serious relationship 🤩🤩 just one more thing, how did the dad found out? Bc when he said “you and rafe are what?” at the beginning of the blurb I was like “why are we late to the conversation, roll that back from the beginning” 😭😭🤣 like I want to see his initial recation upon finding out if that makes sense

Thanks for everything omt

a/n— because i’m so generous, enjoy xo

The world as you knew it would come crashing down if your father had ever caught you and his best friend fucking. You and Rafe snuck around too much with a plethora of close calls, thus, you thought it was probably inevitable.

It was weird to wrap your mind around it, but Rafe knew your father better than you did with their friendship surpassing your twenty years on earth.

He was serious about you. You weren’t some dirty secret and he loathed that your entire relationship was you sneaking around behind your dad’s back.

His hands held yours as he stared into your eyes, waiting for your father to enter the living room. “I know your dad better than anyone else. And I know that it’s better we be honest with him about us being together.”

You nodded your head slowly, chewing on your bottom lip.

Your father was chill, he wasn’t an old head or anything and you believed him to be open minded but that didn’t stop you from being scared of what his reaction might be.

Rafe sensed your nervousness and brought you in for a kiss that soothed you, though it didn’t last for long.

“What the fuck?!” your father’s voice boomed throughout the entire house.

You jerked back, startled by his sudden entrance. This was exactly what you were afraid of. Granted, he didn’t catch you fucking or anything, but he saw something before you said anything.

“You’re taking advantage of my fucking daughter!” your father continued, anger evident in his tone.

“Dad, please,” you interjected. “It’s nothing like that. Rafe and I are in a relationship.”

Your dad’s voice thundered through the house, shaking the very walls. “You’re what with Rafe?!”

And that started the most heated discussion you’d ever had with your father that ended with him walking away angrily. Though, he did hear you out a bit.

Before Rafe left he wanted to at least have a one on one conversation with his best friend. They’d never had a disagreement this big and he was couldn’t leave without at least attempting to mend things.

He knocked on your father’s office before opening the door. Your father looked up, still seething from the ordeal.

“Why the fuck are you in here, haven’t you done enough?” he asked, clearly upset.

Rafe took a deep breath before starting. “I’m so sorry man. It was never my intention to hurt you or betray you. I’ve never seen her in that way until a few months ago.”

“It’s my daughter Rafe, that’s what gets me. Why did it have to be her? I know your reputation, you could’ve gone for anyone else,” your father bellowed, fists clenching.

“It had to be her because the love in my heart is only reserved for a woman like her. It’s only reserved for her. I didn’t seek her out, the connection just sparked in a way I didn’t expect. And you’re right, I have a reputation but that’s in the past. I’m ready to settle down and I would never ever hurt her. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

At the mention of Rafe’s mother, your father’s eyes shot up from his clenched fists. Rafe would never mention his mother or even swear on her unless he was serious.

He thought for a moment. You were twenty years old and capable of making your own decisions, he trusted your judgment wholeheartedly. You were one of the most intelligent people he knew and you had good discernment. You never brought home any guys so if you had decided to inform him of your relationship with his best friend of all people, it was serious.

“Alright fine. You can date her, I’ll give you a chance just this once. But I swear to God if you get my little girl pregnant this young or break her heart, I’ll fucking kill you and they won’t find your body,” your dad told him, firmly.

“100% valid and I’m on board,” Rafe said, “thanks man. You know I love you and I love her. I’ll treat her the way she deserves, you raised such an admirable woman.”

Your father stood up and Rafe pulled him in for hug. It was hesitant at first before they both melted into it. The hug signified the love, trust and years of friendship between them. It reminded Rafe of the hug your father gave to him the day his mother died, signifying they’d always be there for each other no matter what. It signified they would remain best friends through whatever hardships they faced.

Now, decades later, that promise stood firm, no matter the circumstance and apprehension.

“Take care of her man. She’s my entire world,” your dad said, tears threatening to prick his eyes as he pulled away from the hug.

“I will. She’s my world now too,” Rafe replied and pulled him into another hug.

Slowly, you pushed open the office door and seeing the sight before you made tears flood your eyes. You walked over to them and Rafe pulled you into the hug.

“I love you both. I’m sorry if I disappointed you dad,” you said, one arm around him.

“I love you more, pumpkin. And you could never disappoint me. Go live your life and be happy, I’ll always be in your corner no matter what.”

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wordsarelife · 5 months ago

Text

—twenty-two

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you try to make theo a swiftie and succeed

warnings: none

note: kinda modern au, considering reader has a phone and a working internet connection (technology works at hogwarts in this fic)

you’d always known theo was a tough nut to crack, but you were determined. if there was one mission you were set on, it was getting him to appreciate the artistry of taylor swift. he could roll his eyes all he wanted, but you weren’t giving up. not when there was so much he was missing out on.

it started with small things—playing folklore in the common room when you knew he was studying nearby, leaving your taylor swift playlist on shuffle when he happened to be sitting with you in the library. he never said anything, just raised a brow or gave you a look, but you could tell. the seed had been planted.

you started to go a bit deeper, always choosing the right song or album for theo's mood at the moment.

you would play lover or red when you were getting ready and theo was watching you sort through clothes or put on makeup with a content smile on his face.

you played folklore or evermore during quiet nights in the common room, with thick socks and fluffy blankets in front of the warm glow of the fireplace.

he was not ready to admit it yet, but you could see that theo didn't mind as much as he used to. he never actually said something, about liking her music, but he had stopped frowning when you took out your phone and opened your music app.

one time, in the middle of studying, you even saw him bop his head along to 'you belong with me', which quickly turned out to be his favorite, because his mood would rise anytime you played it.

"aren't you putting on any music?" theo asked one day while on a walk through the hogwarts grounds.

"well, do you want me to?" you retorted, a winning smile on your face.

he shrugged. "i don't care. just thought it was odd"

you didn't miss the slight smile once you had pressed play on speak now or how he took your hand in yours, connecting them to the enchanting melody of mine.

the following night both of you stayed up longer, per theo's demand, so you could explain to him the lore of taylor swift and kanye west.

theo was pretty laid back and usually not interested in any drama, but he was kind of intrigued as long as no one he closely knew was involved.

you recounted everything that had happened between your favorite singer and kim kardashians husband. theo nodded along understandingly, throwing in his own questions at the appropriate times.

"i didn't know that there was so much backstory"

"crazy, right?" you asked, wide-eyed. "but if that hadn't happened we wouldn't have reputation now"

"what?"

"it's another album" you shrugged "it's called reputation"

"did we ever listen to that one?" he asked, recounting all the times you had shown him some of her stuff, while you had always made sure to mention what album the song you were listening to was on.

"no" you shook your head.

"why? you clearly like it"

"it's one of my favourites" you nodded, deep in thought "i never showed you because i didn't want to listen it as long as it wasn't a taylor's version yet"

"a what?"

his question resulted in twenty more minutes of backstory. theo's eyes widened as you explained the lore of the rerecordings to him.

"i guess i could show you the album through youtube" you muttered, taking out your phone "fan accounts that made lyric videos should be alright to watch"

theo and you spent the better time of the rest of the night watching fan-made videos for the songs on reputation. you could tell that he was obsessed immediately, going as far as taking out his phone and screenrecording the songs he liked most.

"they are amazing" he gushed as he recorded so it goes, which seemed to be his favorite off the album.

"told you" you shrugged, a soft smile on your lips as you watched his amazement grow. "it's not embarassing to admit that i was right"

"should've listened to you, baby" he muttered, pressing his face into the pillow next to him. you moved a hand through his hair. "i like it"

"i know" you kissed his temple. you put your phone on the nightstand after searching for a playlist of calm taylor songs to fall asleep to. "now we can enjoy her together"

theo pulled you into his arms, his voice humming along to the tunes of last kiss, as both of you slowly fell asleep.

after that night, theo added a few taylor swift songs to his regular playlists (he had different ones for different moods) and made a habit to learn the lyrics to his favorites.

one time, when him and blaise were out for a smoke, theo put on one of the playlists (smoke and relax) and the shuffle promptly landed on delicate.

blaise quickly noticed who was singing, considering your simple overuse of her music during study time with your friends, making fun of theo almost immediately.

"taylor swift, really?" he puffed out the smoke through his mouth, quirking a brow at theo.

theo simply shrugged. "y/n loves her"

"you don't have to like everything your girlfriend does, you know man?" blaise muttered "you're allowed to have your own interests, taylor swift shouldn't be one of them"

"yeah? why not?"

"huh?" blaise had been a bit surprised by theo's quick and simple answer. "you're not a girl, mate"

"thank you, i'm aware"

theo's sarcasm clearly annoyed blaise, as he threw his cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out in the snow, before he turned to head inside. "don't let it change you, man" he smirked. "you're not a swiftie or whatever they're called"

"i might as well be" theo shrugged, not even bothered at this point.

"you're doing weird shit to get laid"

"yeah, maybe if you would put in the same effort you would get laid too, ever considered that?" theo smirked, clearly amused by the shocked expression that crossed blaise's face.

"so, uh..which album would you recommend?"

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tickettride · 5 months ago

Text

I’ve just seen a face | 1

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x f!reader

in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense

• read the second part here

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray

Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.

It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time.

No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.

It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.

Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.

“Hey.”

The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.

“Ya need help?”

“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”

Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.

So he had noticed you.

A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.

And now that same man was standing at the threshold.

“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?

In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”

You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”

“Show me, then.”

The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking.

“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”

Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”

Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.

“I’m Johnny.”

You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.

Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.

“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”

Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.

Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath.

“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.

It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.

Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”

“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”

Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.

The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.

“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.

A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”

Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”

“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”

He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on.

“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”

You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation.

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree.

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies.

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?

The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies.

It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real.

“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder.

His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?

“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.

"Much better."

"Good."

You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.

Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.

You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were.

Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all.

“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words.

Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”

Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”

The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.

“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”

A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded.

"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."

“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”

“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?”

You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.

“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward.

And with that, the moment was gone.

“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure.

You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?

“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away.

You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.

“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”

The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."

Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again.

You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.

They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.

#the bikeriders fanfiction #thebikeriders #johnny davis #johnny davis x reader #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #benny cross x reader

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queenshelby · 10 months ago

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Forbidden Desire (Part 23)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

"I should have him killed," Tommy said as soon as Robert left the room, but you bristled at the suggestion.

"No, Tommy, you can't do that!" you objected. "This is all my fault, I know that and I will find a way to fix this," you promised gravely, eyes pleading for Tommy to reconsider. And, even though you too knew the full weight of your actions, somehow your heart didn't feel heavy, not yet. Instead, you still felt the euphoria of being with him: the exhilarating feeling as though his love was an intoxicating drug that coursed through your veins.

"Relax. I wasn't serious," Tommy conceded, softening his expression as he observed you, although he knew well that, by keeping Robert alive, there was always a risk the truth could inevitably bubble to the surface.

"I'll make sure he never breathes a word about this though," Tommy promised, his voice firm and his eyes hard and you nodded silently, still reeling from what had just happened.

" Tommy," you eventually whispered meekly after almost three minutes of silence, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand and he took it in his own, his grip warm and steady.

"Yes, Love?" he asked, intently focused on your expression.

"I don't want you to marry Lizzie," you admitted quietly, your heart still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion that had swept through the room.

Tommy let out a sigh, releasing your hand as he turned away and paced toward the large fireplace at the far end of the room.

Gripping the mantlepiece with white-knuckled intensity, he spoke in a low growl towards the flames dancing merrily within the hearth.

"Love, it's already done and it's for the best, eh" he insisted. "I can't call off the wedding and I most certainly can't be with you, no matter how much I want to," he added, his voice thick with regret.

The air in the room became heavy, filled with unspoken emotions that weighed down on you like a poorly fitted corset, squeezing the air from your lungs.

You searched his face, trying to find any kind of warmth that could hint at the love he said he felt for you, but his gaze remained fixed on the fire crackling within the hearth.

"I can't just forget about us though," you admitted softly, taking a tentative step towards him as if approaching a caged lion. "I read the letters," you told him with tears in your eyes.

"Yes, the letters I never send to you for a fucking reason," he snapped, his disappointment written clearly across the hard lines of his handsome face. "You are my goddamn niece for fuck sake!" Tommy thundered, spinning around rapidly and taking a step towards you. The blazing fire behind him illuminated his sculpted face, casting deep shadows across his features as he looked at you with an expression that swung between despair and frustration.

"But we didn't know when all of this started between us," you protested quietly, maintaining the fragile connection between you.

"Does it fucking matter now, Love?" Tommy ground out, his voice a rasp of gravel and anger as he stared down at you.

You trembled under his gaze, those blue eyes that could both soothe and incite fear burning with an intensity that left you wanting to surrender, even as your heart screamed at you to run.

"Society won't care about whether we knew or not. No one would ever fucking marry us and I certainly won't get into the House of Fucking Commons if it was to be found out that I fucked my own niece," Tommy growled, his body rigid with tension.

"I cannot change the fact that we are related, and I cannot change the fact that I want you more than anything in this world. But it doesn't fucking matter. We just -," Tommy began, only to be cut off by your lips on his.

"Shut up," you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he hesitated for just a moment before he kissed you back, his lips devouring yours with a passion that took your breath away.

Tommy's hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his arousal pressing into you, hot and hard. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs apart.

"I don't want marriage. I don't even want you to admit, in public, that you have feelings for me, but I want to be with you occasionally and I don't want to fucking share you," you panted, your voice shaking with desire as his hands roamed your body.

"Y/N, we can't do this," Tommy groaned, even as his lips found your neck and his breath ghosted against your skin. "But I can't fucking keep my hands off you either," he admitted, the words like a confession against your heated flesh. "What are you doing to me?" Tommy breathed, hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But you reveled in the knowledge that you had this effect on him, a man who was so in control of everything around him, reduced to a panting, pleading mess of sensations.

You arched your back, breaking the kiss as you reached upwards, unbuttoning his shirt again. The strong lines and shadows of his chest unfolded before you like an illicit gift and you couldn't resist running your fingers over his skin, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I need your cock inside me , Tommy," you demanded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him with a hunger that he mirrored in his eyes.

He groaned at your words, low and deep in his throat, his blue eyes darkening with desire as they locked on you.

You reached down to pull your skirt up further, exposing yourself to him as he pushed his trousers down and stood between your open legs, his throbbing need evident of its fierce desire.

Tommy's hungry gaze never left yours as he pushed into you in one sharp movement.

Your head fell back with a gasp, his name spilling from your lips as you welcomed him deeper inside.

You were wet and ready, the slickness coating his length as he filled you completely. The feeling was indescribable; pleasure mixed with guilt and longing that made your heart race and your mind whirl with emotions.

Tommy's eyes blazed with lust as he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he moved within you.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel so fucking good."

Despite the cold air in the room, sweat beaded on both of your brows as you matched his thrusts, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The desk beneath you creaked and shifted with each harsh movement, but neither of you cared. The world outside this room didn't matter, only the two of you and the primal connection between you until, finally, you reached your high.

"Oh my fucking god , Tommy!" you screamed as your orgasm tore through your body. His name tasted sweet on your lips and you relished in the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin as you clenched around him. "Yes, yes, just like that," you gasped, your head thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure as he drove into you harder. Tommy's movements became more frenzied, his control slipping as he chased his release.

"Fuck , Y/N," he growled, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble as his hips snapped forward. "You're going to make me come so hard."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, igniting the flames of your own renewed desire.

You clenched around him, milking his cock with your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist as he continued to piston in and out of you until, finally, he stilled.

Groaning even louder than before, Tommy emptied himself deep within you, seed dripping from your still-quivering entrance as he fell forward, resting his forehead against yours.

His breaths came in short pants, and you smiled as his cock twitched in the aftermath of its climax within your warmth.

"Fuck I love you," Tommy muttered, eyes drifting closed as a sigh of pure ecstasy passed through his lips. He shivered against you.

"I love you too," you whispered back, the warmth of your breath brushing against his cheek, causing goosebumps to rise up all over his body.

You sat and stood there for a moment, completely intertwined with one another, your chests heaving in sync. The only sound in the room was the steady beating of your hearts and the labored breaths leaving your lungs.

You looked up at Tommy and noticed the satisfied, blissful expression on his face that you had put there.

His hair was slightly damp with sweat and stuck to your forehead as his body relaxed against yours on the desk. The satisfaction that warmed you up from the inside, knowing that you had done this to him, was unparalleled. You loved seeing him lose control, even if it was just for a moment in time. After a few moments of post-sex silence, Tommy slowly pulled out of you and stood up straight. His body glistened with the sweat of exertion and desire and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you draped over his desk, thoroughly fucked.

But the smile quickly faded as reality came crashing back down.

"We can't keep doing this, Love," he muttered, tucking his shirt back into his trousers and doing up his belt. "I am getting married tomorrow," he reminded you, causing you to nod.

"I know," you replied softly, still catching your breath. The feeling of emptiness as he pulled out of you was a stark reminder of the cruel reality. "I know it's wrong, Tommy."

He leaned over the desk and kissed you gently on the lips, a small promise that he would always protect you.

As you pulled your skirt back down and fixed your hair, Tommy took one last look at you before turning to leave the room. The silence of the study felt heavy and charged, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest.

You watched as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone in a state of blissful satisfaction, and the chilliness of the room brought reality crashing back down around you. You knew that this moment couldn't last forever, but it was something that you would cherish nonetheless.

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#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction

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therealcocoshady · 25 days ago

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Kinktober Day 7 - Cream Pie

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : first post of 2025 !!! And I felt like sharing a little something I wrote a while ago and got to finalizing recently ! 😉❤️. I hope you enjoy it !

CW : Creampie

Marshall just loves to give you a cream pie. As soon as things got remotely serious between the two of you, he almost begged for a « no condom » policy. « We’re exclusive and our test results came back clean», he argued. As for you, you were pretty indifferent. If anything, you found condoms to be quite practical. They didn’t bother you and, as an added bonus, they spared you the awful side effects of the various contraception methods you’d tried over the years. Therefore, you weren’t exactly thrilled when he suggested getting rid of them. « Does that make that much of a difference ? », you’d asked. Of course, the man proceeded to explain to you that, yes, it did made a whole lot of a difference. And when you argued that some rubber brands promise that their products feel like nothing’s there and that your ex never complained, he was forced to admit to you that he had a cream pie kink. « Isn’t that just a weird way of saying you enjoy cumming inside ? » you asked said with a raised eyebrow. He let out an awkward chuckle. He seemed kind of nervous to talk about it but he cleared his throat and proceeded to explain with more details. « It’s not really about that. I mean, yeah, it is, but there’s more. With a condom sex still feels good but there’s this thing between us, you know ? I don’t want to have a barrier. I don’t know, it’s feel like a… deeper connection. » he said. You smiled and placed a tender kiss on his jaw. « Careful, handsome, I’m going to think you’re actually a softie », you teased playfully. He huffed and gave you a smirk. « Soft, huh ? » he mused. « Well, yeah », you shrugged. « Getting all romantic, wanting to be all close to me ». He hummed and cupped your jaw before inching just a little closer to you. « You should hold that thought for when I have my way with you without holding back and I claim all your holes as mine. We’ll see how romantic you find it then. ». Your eyes widened as he spoke, causing him to smirk even more. You stayed silent for a second, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. « All my holes ? » you asked with a soft grin. Clearly, the man knew who he was dealing with. You had not done anal with him yet, but you had mentioned enjoying it and, clearly, he remembered. « All of them », he repeated with a promising smile. « And… No holding back ? » you quizzed. « Nope ». Of course, that did the trick convincing you. He knew you liked it rough, and the perspective of him getting territorial and feral, claiming ownership over you was much too enticing. You’d even go so far as to say it was absolutely worth the six additional pounds you gained in a couple weeks after going on the pill.

Safe to say Marshall did not disappoint. As soon as the two of you were positive there was no risk of pregnancy, he went absolutely feral. You’d had sex before - great sex, you’d say, probably the best you’d ever had - but allowing him to hit it raw seemed to change everything. For one, he became demonically horny. You had figured he already had a high sex drive but, boy, were you wrong. It started as soon as the words left your lips. « Yeah, it’s safe to do it without -». He didn’t even let you finish. You saw the immediate change of shade in his eyes, a smirk forming on his lips. You could literally feel him radiate heat. He immediately closed the distance between the two of you, his tattooed arms bracketing you against the wall with an undeniable presence. You felt the strength in his body as he pressed your back, the coolness of the wall contrasting with the warmth that emanated from him. His blue eyes locked onto yours for a brief moment, searching, before his lips descended on yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch. The kiss was deep, his beard grazing your skin, adding an extra layer of sensation. His hands, rough but confident, slid along your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing every inch of his body against yours. The kiss quickly grew more urgent, more insistent, as he tilted your head back with one hand, deepening the connection, savoring the taste of you. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, desperate to ground yourself as his mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, then to the sensitive skin of your neck. Your breathing became ragged, mingling in the heated space between you. He was pressed against you and the gray sweatpants he was wearing did nothing to prevent you from feeling his excitement. His lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, where he planted lust-filled open-mouth kisses that sent shivers down your spine. His hands were holding you firmly, possessively, fingers digging in your hips. You hummed in please, unable to focus on anything but his grounding presence. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively, seeking more of the heat and pressure he offered. His mouth moved lower, brushing along your collarbone, tasting, teasing, before returning to your lips with renewed urgency. This time, the kiss felt hungrier, more demanding, as if he was trying to draw every ounce of you into him. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tilting your head back just the way he wanted it, while the other glided down your spine, anchoring you to him. He pressed closer, letting you feel the hard lines of his body, the weight of him pinning you firmly against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a gentle nip that sent a shiver racing through you, followed by a soothing sweep of his tongue that left you breathless.You melted against him, hands exploring the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles flex and shift under your touch. He growled softly against your lips, a low, rough sound that vibrates through you, stirring something deep and primal. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a claim, an unspoken promise of more to come, and as he drew back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire, full of unspoken words that made your heart skip a beat.

It didn’t take long for your clothes to lay forgotten in a corner of the bedroom, Marshall practically ripping them off your body, as if he couldn’t stand any barrier between your body and his hands. And when he finally held you, you could feel his fingers digging in your skin. Throughout your relationship, he’d always shown appreciation for your body. But he seemed to be on another level, practically worshipping you, muttering words of ownership, promising to make you his. And when you finally felt him - just him - inside of you, the room filled with sighs of satisfaction. It was, quite literally, raw and primal. As promised, he didn’t hold back, encouraged by every gasp, moan and whimper you let out, every scratch of your nails in his back. You felt your eyes roll back, amazed that you’d waited this long to try this. You were on the edge of climax when you warned him. « Marshall, I-I’m gonna- » you moaned, almost pleading for him to take you there. He usually liked to keep you on the edge, sometimes denying you but, this time, none of you felt like beating around the bush. Especially not with the words that fell from your lips. « Fill me. Please »you almost whispered. It didn’t take much more for him to get absolutely unhinged with his thrusts. He tightened his hold around you and you could feel him - actually feel him - fill you to the hilt while you repeated his name like a prayer. When his hips finally stilled, the two of you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breaths. Your face was buried in his neck and none of you moved, as if the world had stopped turning. You could practically hear your own heart pounding. When he rolled to the side, you winced and immediately felt the mess he had made between your legs.

You stayed like this, looking g as if your soul had left your body, while he looked at you with a shit-eating grin. « You alright, babe? » he asked with feigned innocence. You turned to him and nodded, still catching your breath. « You really weren’t kidding » you hummed, to which he chuckled. « Told you I’d claim this pussy as mine » he added with a wink. « And I’m not done with you yet ».

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #eminem kinktober #eminem smut

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bae4faist · 1 month ago

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can u make a story abt mike faist and like it's basically the reader and him and him having a movie date tyty !!

Yes hehe..

MOVIE NIGHT WITH MIKE

For context - fem!reader and mike are on the field where they first met, watching the notebook. Turns out Mike is more emotional

You and Mike settled down on a blanket under the fading golden sun, a projector illuminating "The Notebook" on the makeshift screen. The magic between you two crackled in the air, a warmth that felt almost electric. You glanced at him, and he caught your gaze, his eyes filled with mischief and affection.

As the movie unfolded, you laughed and sighed at every romantic moment, feeling utterly connected to the story—and to Mike. His laughter was infectious, but as the film progressed, you noticed something shifting in him. The joy in his voice dulled, replaced by an intensity that pulled at your heart.

When Noah declared his love amidst the chaos, you felt your breath catch. You turned to Mike, sensing tears glistening in his eyes. “Are you okay?” you whispered, your voice filled with concern.

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “It’s just… love can be so beautiful and messy.”

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “It’s worth it, right?” you said softly, feeling your heart race.

“Absolutely,” he replied, squeezing your hand tighter, his gaze never leaving yours. The film reached its emotional peak, and Mike bit his lip, clearly trying to hold back his feelings.

“You’re really feeling this, huh?” you teased gently, trying to lighten the atmosphere while staring deep into his emotional eyes.

“Maybe,” he admitted, a faint grin breaking through as tears glimmered. “It just makes you think about what you want.”

His gaze dropped to your joined hands, and he took a deep breath. “I care about you more than anyone else. It’s scary, and I don’t know how to say it without messing it up.”

You smiled, your heart swelling. “You don’t have to make sense of it all right now. Just being here with you feels perfect.”

As the credits rolled, you both sat in silence, the gravity of the moment settling in. “What if we just fight for this?” you proposed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, your heart racing.

Mike looked at you, his expression a mix of hope and vulnerability. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” you said, your breath hitching with excitement. “I want to be with you, Mike. Just like Noah and Allie.”

His face lit up, and without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a tender kiss. The world around you melted away, and in that moment, nothing mattered but the connection between you two.

As you pulled back, both breathless and smiling, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them together. The field, the movie, the emotion—it all marked the beginning of your beautiful story.

A/N : This is realll bad trust me I know, I made this in school. But pleaseeee ask me more stuff anyone I love getting notifications for my inbox and I love writing your guys’ ideas. It can be any mike or Josh character or the actors, smut, fluff, angst.. seriously anything. Xx

#mike faist #art donaldson #challengers #i love mike faist #mike faist how handsome you are #art donaldson x reader #fanfic #fluff #mike faist challengers #mike faist x reader #west side story #riff lorton #dodge mason #pleaseeee send me requests #this is so baddd #movie dates

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redroomreflections · 2 months ago

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Hotel California | Track 8: Obvious

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4.7k

Chapter 8/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Another week of y'all reading my mediocre song lyrics. Let's wrap this up by the new year.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Saturdays were for tennis. Every weekend, if your dad were in town, he’d send a message inviting you and Isabella for your weekly tennis match, followed by tea on the patio with your mom. It had been this way ever since Isabella was a tiny girl, a tradition that had endured through the years.

You’d grown up watching your father maintain his high-profile career—managing bands, launching artists, orchestrating deals—but when he was home, he always made time for this simple ritual. Tennis and tea. Just the four of you. You smiled as you stepped onto the courts, the early morning sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. He was already on the court, wearing his usual pair of black sunglasses and his signature calm, calculating demeanor. His presence alone was enough to put most people on edge. But not you. You knew your father better than anyone. He had always been a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes.

The sound of the tennis ball bouncing off the court snapped you back to the present. Isabella was sitting off to the side with your mother and a cup of tea, chatting away like a little grown-up. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them together. Isabella was growing into her own person, and you felt lucky to have witnessed all of it. Especially now, when she would listen to your conversations, paying half attention but always absorbing every detail. Then she'd offer her advice as if you weren't the parent.

“So,” Nick said, casually hitting the ball back over the net. “How’s this Natasha girl?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You had expected it, sure. Your father had been strangely quiet about your dating life up until now. He’d asked about Sam before, mostly because he liked the guy, and you were married to him, but Natasha? That was a different story.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone light. “She’s good, Dad. Really good. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

Nick nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. The intensity in his eyes never wavered, and he returned the ball with more force than usual, almost like he was using tennis as an excuse to let out his frustration.

“You’re serious about her?” he asked, his voice more guarded than you were used to.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “She’s someone special.”

Nick didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you for a moment as if waiting for more. His next words came slowly, weighed down with skepticism. “I still don’t know about this whole rockstar thing. Are you sure about her? Where did you meet her?"

You knew this would come up. The idea of you dating someone in that world—especially Natasha—wasn’t exactly sitting well with him.

"Harley's birthday party," You glanced at Isabella, who was pretending to sip her tea but clearly eavesdropping. You softened your tone, mindful of her presence. “Dad, Natasha’s not just a rockstar. She’s more than that. We connect in ways that I haven’t felt before. She’s not like the others.”

Nick’s gaze didn’t soften. “I know the type. They can be... unpredictable.”

You let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “She’s different. I promise. She makes me happy.”

His expression remained neutral, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He jogged to the other side of the court, sending the ball flying back toward you. “I’m sure she’s got her charms. But you're my daughter. I need to know you're with someone who will treat you right. Someone who can handle all this,” he gestured to the life he'd essentially built for you.

You caught the ball and paused momentarily, considering your father’s words. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but this is my decision. And I really think Natasha’s someone worth taking a chance on.”

Nick set his racket down, his arms crossing in a familiar stance. “Alright, I’ll meet her.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t expected that so soon.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If she’s serious about you, I want to see it myself. I’ve got to meet this Natasha.”

You felt a sense of relief, but that underlying tension was still over you. It wasn’t just about Natasha proving herself to your father; it was about you figuring out where your relationship was headed. You hadn’t even begun to put all the pieces together in your mind, but now, with your dad’s approval, it felt like things were moving faster than you could keep up with.

“Well, looks like you’re going to have to start warming up to the idea,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Nick just grunted, grabbing his racket again. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

"She's really nice, Papa Nick," Isabella joined in. "We went to the movies last week, and she bought me the biggest-sized popcorn."

"Is that so?" Nick raised a brow. "Have you met her, Jen?" He looked to your mom for her answer.

"I have not,"

"Hmm," Nick hummed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. When is she free?"

"Tomorrow," You replied.

"Perfect. Tomorrow then," He decided.

Good luck to both of you.

***

To say that this brunch was awkward was an understatement. Your father, ever the master of subtle intimidation, had given Natasha the cold shoulder despite your repeated pleas for him to ease up. He wasn’t outright rude or cruel—Nick Fury didn’t operate that way—but his protective instincts were dialed up to eleven. A quiet comment here, a lingering stare there—it was enough to make even you, a mid-twenties divorcee with a sharp tongue, squirm.

Natasha, for her part, seemed unfazed. She sat next to you at the long dining table, her posture relaxed, her green eyes scanning the room with genuine interest. She’d earlier complimented the house’s mid-century charm, admiring the collection of vinyl records your dad kept in pristine condition. Now, she was nursing her coffee, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the cup, looking every bit the calm rockstar you’d come to admire.

“So, Natasha,” your dad’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual but carrying an edge, you knew all too well. He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was one of his clients sitting across the negotiation table. “Did you go to college?”

Natasha glanced at you briefly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips before she turned to your dad. “I didn’t,” she admitted, her voice steady. “I was already touring in small venues with the band by the time I finished high school. It was a different path, but one I’m proud of.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “No regrets about that?”

Natasha shook her head, her eyes meeting your dad's. She didn't shy away from the challenge.

"I'm not a person who regrets. Not if it means I'm doing what I love."

Your dad hummed, seeming to consider her words. You held your breath, watching the exchange closely. For a moment, it was silent, save for the clinging of your mom's fork against her plate.

"Do you value education?" He questioned.

"I do,"

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say I want the best for my daughter and granddaughter. They deserve nothing less than that."

Natasha nodded, her gaze unwavering. "With all due respect, sir, I believe the same."

"Hmm." Your dad hummed. "You're very direct." Your father nodded slowly, clearly weighing her words. “The music industry’s not exactly a walk in the park. A lot of people get chewed up and spit out.”

Natasha met his gaze without flinching. “That’s true. But I’ve got good people around me and learned how to stay grounded. I’ve also learned how to be better as an artist and person.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Natasha had a way of handling the pressure that you envied, and seeing her hold her own with your father was impressive.

Your dad didn't look away, but you could tell he was contemplating her words.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" He asked bluntly.

Natasha didn't even flinch. "I care deeply about your daughter, sir. She's one of the most genuine people I've met, and I value her input. Her opinion matters to me. I enjoy spending time with her."

Nick's face softened, but only slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. So you understand my hesitation."

Natasha nodded. "Of course. And I'd never disrespect or disregard your family."

"Daddy, do you have to ask her so many questions?" You sighed.

"I'm just trying to get to know the person who's going to spend a lot of time with my grandbaby," He shrugged. "You understand."

"Yes," Natasha responded.

"What are your parents like?" Your father inquired, changing the topic.

"My mother is a science teacher," Natasha said. "She lives in Jersey. I call her twice a week."

"And your father?"

Natasha's jaw tightened. "I haven't spoken to my father since I was sixteen,"

"Why is that?" Your father asked.

Natasha shifted slightly in her chair, her gaze lowering for the first time. "He and my mom got divorced when I was younger. After the divorce, he didn't want anything to do with me."

"Oh," Nick's brow furrowed.

"He wasn't the best man," Natasha's tone was firm, her gaze returning to meet your dad's. "But my mom did a great job raising my sister and me. She always made sure I had a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, and she instilled good morals in us. She taught me how to be a strong woman, and I'm thankful for her every day."

Natasha’s words seemed to strike a chord with Nick. He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he considered her answer. You could tell he wasn’t expecting that level of candor or the quiet pride with which Natasha spoke about her mom.

“Sounds like your mom did right by you,” he finally said, a hint of approval in his tone.

“She did,” Natasha replied with a small, genuine smile. “She’s one of the strongest people I know.”

The room seemed to settle momentarily, the tension loosening just enough for your mom to jump in. She had been quietly observing up to this point, sipping her tea with a soft smile. Now, her curiosity sparked.

“You mentioned you have a sister?” Jen asked, her tone warm and inviting.

Natasha turned her attention to her, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yelena. She’s studying at the University of Cambridge right now. International Relations major. She’s brilliant, honestly. Way smarter than I ever was at her age.”

“Cambridge,” Jen echoed, clearly impressed. “That’s no small accomplishment. You must be proud.”

“I am,” Natasha said with a nod. “She worked really hard to get there. We’re close, so I always cheer her on from here.”

Jen smiled, clearly charmed, and even Nick seemed to appreciate the answer. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his coffee cup before leveling his gaze at Natasha again.

“So, you’ve got a smart sister, a strong mom,” he said. “What about you? You know good music?”

You groaned inwardly, recognizing the shift in his tone. Nick Fury’s “test” voice was unmistakable, and you braced yourself for the next question.

Natasha, however, didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’d like to think so. Music’s kind of my whole life.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite artist?”

It was a direct, deceptively simple Nick Fury question designed to put someone on the spot.

Natasha didn’t flinch. She smiled, considering her answer momentarily before replying, “It depends on the day. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours is one of my all-time favorites, but I also love modern stuff. Brandi Carlile, Hozier... sometimes even Billie Eilish when I’m in the right mood.”

Nick nodded slowly, clearly evaluating her response. "What about people that look like me?"

"Dad," you warned, feeling your temper flare.

Natasha's smile didn't fade; she took his question in stride.

"Muddy Waters," Natasha replied, her voice filled with confidence. "Aretha Franklin. Nina Simone."

"Ahh," Nick nodded approvingly, a hint of surprise registering on his face. "I like that. When's your next album coming out?"

"Well, we have a few tracks in the worse. Should be done in the next few months," Natasha wiped her mouth. Discussing music put her at ease. This was her territory. "We have a couple of songs we're still debating about. Actually, we're looking at y/n for the vocals. I was going to mention it to you when we had a moment alone."

"Wanda already did," You nodded.

"You talked to Wanda?" She looked at you.

"Yes, we exchanged numbers at the party," You shrugged. "We talk all the time."

"Of course you do," She muttered.

"Well, how do you feel about the song y/n? "Jen asked.

"I'm a little nervous," You admitted.

"She's got a great voice," Natasha praised. "She's a natural. The song's a perfect fit."

"That's not the issue," You sighed.

"Oh?" Nick perked up.

You sighed, glancing at your parents, who were waiting expectantly. Natasha’s praise was sweet but didn’t erase the knot of hesitation tightening in your chest.

“It’s not that I don’t like the song,” you started, fiddling with your napkin. “Or that I don’t think it’s a great opportunity.”

“Then what is it?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but curious.

“It’s...” You hesitated, glancing at your dad, who was watching you closely now. “I’ve put singing behind me for a reason. I worked hard to separate myself from that world, to build something on my own. And I don’t want anyone thinking—”

“Thinking what?” Natasha leaned in, her tone patient but firm.

“That we’re together because I want to boost my career,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve seen those kinds of PR stunts a million times. They’re transparent and cheap, and I don’t want to look like... that.”

"That's completely understandable," Natasha said. She was content to leave it there. She knew firsthand how to handle this topic for you.

"Well, let's hear the song." Your dad suggested.

"Dad..." You began.

"Before you say no to it, at least hear it," He shrugged. "I have a studio in the guest house. Surely Natasha has her music loaded and ready." You knew what this was. He was testing the both of you. He was mostly trying to push you but also gauge Natasha's knowledge of music. This would be interesting.

****

An hour later, Natasha sat at the mixing board, her fingers flipping switches and turning knobs. A laptop propped up nearby displayed Wanda’s face over FaceTime, her expression focused as she listened intently. Nick sat off to the side, arms crossed but intrigued as Natasha played the first track. He didn’t say much, but the way his brows furrowed in thought spoke volumes.

You sat on a low couch a few feet away, curled up with a notebook. Mostly, you’d stayed quiet, content to watch the interplay between your dad and Natasha. It was rare to see him this interested in someone else’s craft—rarer still for him to keep his opinions to himself for more than five minutes.

As the song wound down, Natasha leaned back in her chair and glanced at Wanda on the screen. “What do you think? Too much reverb on the bridge?”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I like it. It gives the vocals more weight. What about layering the guitar riff in the second verse, though? Feels like it could use a little more punch there.”

“Good call,” Natasha nodded, making a note on a pad beside her.

Nick leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “You’re not a producer, are you?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not officially, no. But I’ve spent enough time in studios to pick up a thing or two.”

Nick didn't look impressed.

"I'm the creative force," She smirked. "If we want it, I can do it."

He grunted.

You glanced at your dad, wondering if he would bring up the song you were supposed to record. The question was evident on his face, but he hesitated to voice it.

Wanda, however, didn't have the same reservations. She was always the one to ask the hard questions, especially if the answers mattered.

"Are you going to record the song, or what?"

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"I might have written down a few lyrics that fit me better," You acknowledged. You stood to be given the camera. "I'm not saying no, but I want the song to represent me as well. That's all."

"That's fair," Wanda nodded.

"We can try it out right now if you want?" Nick suggested. "Let's see how good your pen actually is."

"It's certainly improved since you last heard it, old man." You jested. Natasha began to play the music and offered you the floor to give constructive criticism. "Well, if you're going to lean into the whole crossover thing, it should feel more R&B. Subtle."

Natasha immediately adjusted the track, tweaking the tempo and softening the guitar riff. The harder punk elements faded into a smoother, almost sensual melody aligned more with an R&B vibe. She glanced at you as she worked, her expression open and eager for feedback.

“Like this?” she asked, her fingers moving expertly across the board.

“Closer,” you said, stepping further into the room. “The drumline should be heavier but not overpowering. Something you feel in your chest, you know?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’ve got an ear for this.”

“She does,” Natasha agreed, her voice carrying a note of pride. “She hears music differently. It’s why I wanted her on this track.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, but you focused on the task. “And the bridge—it needs to soar. It's like a release before the last chorus. Build up, then let it break down smooth.”

Natasha adjusted the track again, layering in a subtle drumbeat and tweaking the synths to give the bridge the lift you described. She played it back, and the room filled with the revised sound.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you said, nodding. “That feels more like it.”

“Damn,” Wanda said through the camera, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s good.”

You opened your notebook to the page you'd scribbled on. You sat next to Natasha, showing her the lyrics. "I think we should be more of a duet. Obviously, Wanda will be there, but..."

Natasha looked at the lyrics, then at you.

"We're already a duo,"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me," She winked.

"Perfect," Wanda chimed in.

"This is the new bridge," You hummed along with the music, letting Natasha play the music.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes."

Your voice laced each line with a hint of vulnerability, and Natasha watched intently, her fingers lightly tapping against her chair to the beat as she mouthed the lyrics along with you.

The pre-chorus was next, soft but building:

"I can admit when I'm hiding from you,

But you see right through my disguise."

The music swelled, and your voice dropped to a raspy, sultry whisper.

"Baby, when I'm with you, I can't hide."

You glanced up at Natasha, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intense, and there was a familiar intensity in the way her jaw flexed. She seemed lost, but her lips parted ever so slightly.

"I think that's great," Wanda's voice boomed through your reverie as the music faded.

"It's certainly something," Your dad smirked from his spot in the corner.

"Natasha, what do you think?" You asked. "Does it seem too r&b for you guys?"

"Are you kidding me? You nailed it. It's perfect." Natasha gave you a thumbs-up. "We need to record this, babe. That was really great."

Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, still tapping a rhythm on her thigh. "So, are you in?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her anticipation.

You hesitated for a beat, not because you doubted the song but because of what it represented—a step into the spotlight you'd carefully avoided for years. Of course, this could all go the opposite way. You could fade back into oblivion, and the song wouldn't even chart. Somehow, you knew you had a hit on your hands. Your gaze flickered to your dad, sitting back in his chair with a knowing smirk.

"You knew this would happen, didn’t you?" you asked him, crossing your arms playfully.

Nick shrugged, his grin widening. "I knew the moment you heard the track, you couldn’t walk away. You’ve got the itch, kid. It’s in your blood."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to Natasha, you said, "Yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it."

Natasha’s face lit up with a grin, and she stood. "You won’t regret it," she said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"I better not," you teased, though your excitement started to bubble beneath the surface.

From the corner of the room, Wanda’s voice came through the speaker. "Finally! This is going to be amazing."

Natasha chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "She’s right. This is just the beginning."

Nick clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. "Well, now that we’re all on the same page, let’s record this before you second-guess yourself."

You rolled your eyes again but nodded. "Fine. But if this blows up and I’m on the cover of People next month, I’m blaming all of you."

"Deal," Natasha said, her arm still around you as she leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a murmur, just for you. "But something tells me you’ll love every second of it."

*****

Later that evening, after the studio session and brunch with your parents, you invited Natasha back to your place. You weren't ready to let her go, reveling in her presence and warmth. You and Natasha found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. The air was still charged with the session's energy, and you couldn't shake your feelings.

Natasha handed you a cup of tea, her fingers brushing yours briefly. "For the nerves," she said with a small smile.

You laughed softly, taking the mug and curling up on the plush couch. "I’m not nervous. Just... processing."

She sat beside you, close but not too close, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch. "Processing what?"

"Everything. I don’t know," you said, sighing. "I thought I was done with all this, you know? But, here I am."

Natasha nodded, sipping her tea and letting the silence hang.

You continued, "I mean, I have a good life. I have a good job, friends, my own place."

"And now a kick-ass duet," Natasha added.

"Yeah, it is really great," You nodded. "Without me. You and Wanda are great songwriters."

"You're not so bad yourself." She grinned. "You have to meet our new manager. Mitch Lester."

"Mitch Lester," You tried it on your tongue. You narrowed your eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," You shook your head. "She manages a couple of my clients."

"Is that good or bad for us?" Natasha tilted her head.

"It's great. She's great," You nodded.

You smiled softly, leaning back into the couch, letting the warmth of Natasha’s presence settle around you. The way she talked to you and never hesitated to share or ask questions were things you didn’t take for granted. In the past, you had been with people who avoided the deeper conversations and let things fester instead of speaking up. But Natasha was different. She didn’t shy away from the difficult topics. In fact, it seemed like she embraced them.

"I’m glad you came to meet my parents," you said, quiet but sincere. "I know it wasn’t easy, but you didn’t flinch."

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined as she considered your words. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. Your family means something to me because you mean something to me."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in her voice. The fact that Natasha didn’t just show up out of obligation but because she wanted to connect with you on a deeper level was something you hadn’t expected but needed. You never thought that kind of honesty would feel so right.

"I think that’s why I like us," you said, your voice a little more confident now. "You always let me in. You communicate with me. You never make me guess or wonder what you're thinking."

Her lips twitched into a smile, a small chuckle escaping her. "I try to keep it simple," she said with a wink. "No games."

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease even more. How she looked at you and made you feel seen was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

"You really don’t hold back, do you?" you teased, feeling lighter and more at ease than you had in weeks.

"No reason to," Natasha replied. She moved a little closer, her knee brushing against yours. "I’ve always been more straightforward. With you... it’s easy."

It was easy. That was the truth of it. You didn’t have to question Natasha’s intentions, and that made everything feel smoother and more natural than you could’ve anticipated.

"You know, I’m happy," you said, your voice softening. "Like, genuinely happy. I don’t think I’ve felt this way in a while."

Natasha’s expression softened, her hand subtly brushing against yours. "I’m happy too, Y/N. It’s just... easy, isn’t it?"

You nodded, eyes meeting hers. "Yeah. It is."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that came from mutual understanding, from a connection that didn’t need words. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself just feel—letting the moment unfold, enjoying the simplicity of being with someone who saw you, truly saw you, and accepted you as you were.

"I love you," Natasha said smoothly. Your eyes widened as you tried to process what she'd said. She leaned closer to you, her lips ghosting over yours, the tension palpable.

"I...I love you too." You said with such sincerity Natasha almost swooned. This felt right. You didn't want to think about how long you'd been dating or whether or not things would go bad. Here, in this moment, you were comfortable with each other. You loved her.

Natasha captured your lips with her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. The kiss was passionate and fierce, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She was fire, and you were drawn to her like a moth.

"You said it back," Natasha said her voice husky. She pushed you to lie gently on the couch.

"I said it back," You giggled. "I do love you."

Natasha groaned softly, her lips trailing a path down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched into her touch, feeling your body responding to her. You were two magnets drawn to each other and couldn't resist the pull.

Natasha's hand slid beneath your shirt, her fingertips tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"This is real for me," She whispered. "You and me. It's real."

"I know," You murmured, your eyes locked on hers. You could feel her emotions in how her hands roamed your body, how her lips sought yours, and how her breath hitched when your fingertips brushed her skin.

She kissed you again, this time with an intensity that left you breathless.

"It's real for me too."

This is the part where we gear up for some real rockstar Hollywood shit to go on in the next chapters. ---> next part

#black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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readychilledwine · 4 months ago

Text

2 Truths and a Lie

SJM Villain's Week - Day 3 - Deception

Summary - Having Hunt in his dungeon wasn't enough for his former friend. He wanted to hit him where it would hurt the most.

Warnings - Stealing, lying by omition, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, power play, boarding dubcon, manipulation, sir/sub dynamics, choking, dumdification, probably something I am missing

A/n - Happy Day 3 of @sjmvillainweek I, uh, plead the 5th

🗡Villain's Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

You were fucked.

Completely and utterly fucked.

You ran faster down the alley, just hoping you could maybe make it inside of a building and fall into a crowd. It wouldn't give you much of a chance, but it would have to be enough of one.

You had no clue what was chasing you, nor who had sent it, but the target on your back had only grown since Hunt disappeared.

You hadn't spoken to your brother in close to 4 years. The only reason you knew he was even still alive was due to whispers of rumors.

Rumors of him and some starborn half fae female.

Rumors of him breaking free of that thorned halo that haunted him.

Rumors he couldn't be bothered To text you or return a call to confirm.

Some brother.

You took a sharp left, sneaking into a shop in the Eternal City before slowing down. You had never been stupid, a rebellious teen turned into a far too street smart female. You quickly snuck a black short dress from a rack slipping into the dressing room undetected. You changed as quickly as you could, forcing jeans down your long legs with a pout.

They were your favorite. But sacrifices had to be made.

Hunt was blessed with lightning. You were blessed with shifting. Your hair went from a dark black to a soft strawberry blonde, freckles appearing as you finished zipping the dress and snuck back out of the fitting room, past the gossiping workers and out the door.

“You aren't as clever as you think you are,” a deep voice fell into step with you. “I can take you somewhere safe.” You glared up at the blonde malakh.

“Pollux,” you said coldly.

“Little viper,” his hands were in his pockets, the rhythmic pattern of you two walking becoming the only noise between The two of you as his left hand slipped to your waist, guiding you wordlessly to the so called safety he was offering.

The apartment building he walked you into was lavish. Columns stood tall to give it a grand feel, a marble floor, a front desk connected to the leasing office. Even the elevator had a guard that just nodded at Pollux as he pressed the button to open the doors before pressing a “P1” button that glowed white.

“Mr. Fancy Pants over here,” you muttered at him. “Pressing a penthouse button.”

Pollux only glanced at you, “You've grown up.” His eyes roamed every inch of you, “How much of this is what you actually look like?”

You shifted your hair back, long dark waves replacing the strawberry blonde, freckles fading. “The rest is me.”

His hum was soft, “Can't say I don't prefer the blonde.” The elevator ticked slower after rushing past floors, a soft ping as each number went by before it slowed down to a surprisingly smooth stop.

You could only scoff as the doors opened and he ushered you inside, “Good thing I do not live to please you, Pollux.”

“Don't you,” he sat, unbothered by the bite in your response, arms flexing. “Live to please me, I mean?”

He smirked as your tongue clicked, the two of you studying each other, mapping out any signs of weakness. He was tense muscle under golden skin, blonde hair, a chiseled face. Physically, you could not find a single thing you didn't find just absolutely stunning. He scratched his stubble lightly, “Not going to respond, little viper? Or perhaps I should call you something different? Snakes don't tend to change their scales, do they?”

“You could call me my name?”

“I could.”

“Where is my brother?”

Pollux paused at that, “You don't know?”

“Clearly not,” your tone was clipped. All your street smart did not necessarily prepare you for the type of male sitting in front of you. The kind that so easily leaned his elbows on his knees, thighs slightly spread as he began to watch you.

“Your brother is with the asteri. In the dungeon,” the answer was vague, but it fell into line with what you last truly knew about Hunt and his job. “He was tied up at the moment. He sent me as soon as we received information you were being chased down.”

You only nodded, hugging yourself slightly,

“I heard rumors of him with some girl-”

Pollux moved to you, your chin in his hand, “That are just rumors. He had a play thing for a bit. That's where that came from.”

“He never answers my calls?”

“He's busy,” Pollux moved his hand from your chin to the strands of hair hanging in your shoulder. “You are such a pretty little thing, you know that?”

He was far too close to yours, his face angled perfectly. Teenage you, the one who dreamed of hooking up with Hunt's friends out of spite, she was screaming.

“I have other qualities,” your voice was weaker than intended.

“I don't really care about those right now.”

You didn't have time to breathe before he was on you. The battle for dominance was useless for you. He manhandled you with ease, a hand on the back of your neck holding you exactly where Pollux wanted. His lips tasted like methol, be it from cigarettes or tooth paste you weren't sure.

Pollux was intoxicating. The air of danger that surrounded the Hammer was no lost on you. This male, this powerful being was one of the favored malakh. A male so few got away with fucking with. And right now, he was yours.

He lifted you with practiced ease, moving you to another room without breaking the messy kiss he had you in. Her dropped you unceremoniously on the bed ripping his own shirt. Before you could even move to touch him, he had both of your wrists in on hand, forcing you down and laying them above your head, “They stay here.” The tone of his voice would stay with you, that deep baritone aching in your bones. “You don't move until I say you can, do you understand.”

“Yes, sir,” his gaze shot to your face at your response, a brow raising as he smirked.

“Well, you have one trait over your brother.” The stolen dress was ripped off of you, cheap fabric easily splitting in two. “Obedience.”

Pollux was never above lying to get what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was you. Be if for vengeance, for another way to hurt Hunt, or just his own selfish greed to claim and dominate beautiful things.

He knew if you had known where Hunt truly was, his hands wouldn't be exploring every dip and curve of your body. He wouldn't be mapping each scar and freckle like he was discovering new land. No. He'd be very much missing this opportunity with you. He'd lie to his own grave for this.

Fucking the sister of his traitor friend?

Priceless.

Pollux gently squeezed your breasts, “You're going to be the best girl for me, aren't you? Listen well and do as I say?”

Your eyes had started to get the hazy unfocused look, lips slightly parted as you nodded and looked at him. Heat had settled deep into your body, flowing through your veins like liquid fire. That feeling was becoming a drug. One you'd so rarely felt, but he was bringing out of you so easily.

Pollux began to kiss your jawline, memorizing every noise, every sensitive spot. He'd whisper them in your brother's ear later, brag to him about how he bit the spot just below your ear and you gasped for him, back arching like a desperate whore as he toyed with you. He would mark every inch of you, ripping at tender flesh on your neck until it bruised.

Each motion put your scent on him, his on you.

His kissed went lower, licking your collarbones before nipping the left the the right. His tongue licking down your chest until he reached his first destination. Pollux held eye contact with you as he licked the first sensitive bud, sucking your right nipple until it formed a perfect peak in his mouth. Once he was satisfied there, he switched sides, drinking in the noises you made for him as chills went through your body.

“Sensitive little thing,” he whispered the words into your skin, voice deep with his own lust. “You like when I kiss your body, princess?”

“Yes sir,” it was more of a moan than words, one slightly pained as he bit your side, flicking his tongue to soothe the mark he'd left on your ribcage.

His journey down your body didn't stop until your thighs sat over his wide shoulders, “Let's see if you taste as sweet as you're acting.” Torture. It was torture as his tongue dragged through you, licking at your most sensitive place. Pollux considered eating pussy an art form. One he so rarely treated Lidia to, but you, you he would savor. Licking every inch of you until he had his fill. Your clit, your entrance, you so frequently ignored labia. Pollux treated tasting you like he had paid for a 5 star meal. It had your toes curling as he moaned against you, your body arching.

That tightness you knew all too well began to settle In your stomach as he threw his forearm over your hips, stopping you from moving. He caught you whispering his name, the sound of it making him feel as if he were a god. One finger pushed into you, curling up to find your spot as he began running figure 8s with his tongue up and down your clit.

You were not silent when you unexpectedly came. You were a tidal wave, a silent scream falling into whimpers as he praised you through your high, his thumb and finger working at you bringing you down gently as he prepared you for his aching cock.

He couldn't get his pants off fast enough for either of you, regretting his choice to leave them on. He'd never felt this anxious during sex before. He was a confident male, cocky even. But you clearly saw why once he was bare. He gave you a look when your wrists moved, a silent warning of his earlier command. “What did I say?”

“They stay above my head, sir.” He followed your line of sight, smirked as he realized that your eyes were in him, hungry and waiting.

“That's my Good Girl,” he settled between your thighs, one leg being forced around his waist while the other went over his shoulder. “Breathe for me,” he wasn't gentle once he knew he was lined up. He entered you in one movement, watching as your eyes squeezed shut another scream tumbling from your lips as his heavy length filled every inch of you.

He was kind enough to give you a moment to breathe and adjust before one roll of his hips became another then another. The pace increased more and more as you laid there helpless to do anything but let him take and take, pulling you apart at the seams. He was shameless in this mission, his sole goal now to make your warm walls flutter around him. His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him, “You watch me when I fuck you. Got it?” He smirked at your wordlessly nodding, the moans falling from your lips as he held your face there before moving that grip to your throat.

Pollux was electrical. He was magnetic. He was a force of nature, a storm you should have been afraid of, but here you were, below him, calling him sir as he overpowered you. The hand not holding your throat held your hip, forcing you to meet every movement he made, rougher and harder with each passing second.

You'd never last like this, not with the sight of his wings flaring behind him, feeling like some form of damnation instead of the salvation they were believed to represent. And Pollux knew. He could feel your body's response, feel you hugging him tighter, your walls beginning to twitch. He saw the moment your brain shut off, the moment he made you go cock dumb.

He decided then and there he would not kill you.

You were of no use to him dead.

This apartment was his, he would keep you here. Alive, aching, yearning. His new favorite toy.

“Please sir, may I come?” And those 5 words sealed that fate.

“You may, princess.” Pollux watched as you fell apart for him. He watched and counted each rule you broke. Hands moving you grip the wrist squeezing your throat. 2 spankings he'd give you later, swearing. Another spanking. Not thanking him. Another.

He counted each of those things again as he shut off the light, leaving you sleeping in his bed as he redressed without shower. The ride down to the dungeon felt like it was taking far too long, his smirk growing as he entered the room Hunt, Ruhn, and Baxian were hung up in. Pollux simply walked close to Hunt saying nothing as the shell of the Umbra Mortis sniffed him, his face falling farther as he did.

“Don't fucking touch her!”

“Already did,” Pollux replied smoothly as Athalar pulled on his chains, a new fire in him. “And I will again.”

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#elizabeths.updates #send asks #pollux crescent city #crescent city x reader #pollux x reader #pollux x you #pollux x y/n #pollux #the hammer #crescent city fanfiction #sjmvillainweek #sjmvillainweek2024 #sjmvillainsweek day 3

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jvngw0nlvr · 3 months ago

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Holding On To Us

•idol!seunghan!x gn!reader! WC:718 •warnings:mentions of reader being insecure

genre:angst and fluff

lowercase intended lil note^○^ felt like writing something and this came about hope you enjoy! i will have longer stories coming soon!

you always felt like you weren’t enough for seunghan, like you didn’t deserve him, no matter how much he tried to reassure you. you couldn’t shake the thoughts that you weren’t good enough, and it was causing you to drift away, even though you were still there physically. emotionally, though, it felt like you weren’t fully present in the relationship. seunghan was the same as always, but something felt different, like the connection you shared was fading. living together didn’t seem to change that; you barely talked anymore, even while sharing an apartment.

you were a college student, and he was an idol. with such different schedules, it was hard to make it work. he’d come home late, leave early, and you had classes at all hours, depending on the day. it wasn’t always this way, but lately, your worries and insecurities grew louder, and you wondered if this was even a relationship anymore. was he seeing someone else? you couldn’t help but question it, even if you knew deep down he’d never do that. he was always working late, practicing, but your insecurities still gnawed at you.

lost in these thoughts, you didn’t realize tears had started streaming down your face until you heard the door unlock. wiping your eyes, you wondered who it could be at this hour—seunghan was always home late, so maybe it was a friend. then you saw him.

"why are you looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost?" he asked.

"i don’t know… just not used to you being home this early," you replied.

"i wanted to surprise you today," he said, a warm smile on his face. "we finally finished learning the choreography for our new song, so i’m all yours. wait… were you crying?" he noticed the remnants of tears and sat beside you on the couch, gently cupping your face so you had to look at him.

"yeah… i was," you admitted softly.

"why? did something happen? i’m here—tell me," he urged.

"it’s… it’s about us. i’ve been having doubts about where we stand, if we’re even in a real relationship anymore. i mean, we don’t—"

before you could finish, he interrupted. "what do you mean, ‘if we’re in a relationship’? i know i haven’t been here as much as i should be, but that’s only because of work. what we have now is something i don’t want to lose… you’re not planning on breaking up, are you?" his voice broke a little, and his eyes looked glassy, the thought clearly hurting him.

seeing his tears triggered yours again. you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "honestly… i was thinking about it. it’s been lonely, and i’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, letting my insecurities get the best of me. they’re just… stupid thoughts," you murmured.

"they’re not stupid," he said, gently cutting you off. "not that i want to break up either; even just thinking about it makes me tear up. but your feelings are real, and i get it. if the roles were reversed, i’d probably feel the same way. i really believe we can work through this together."

you nodded, wiping the last of your tears. "yeah, we can. i’ve just been letting my mind run wild… but talking to you helps. we’re going to be okay."

#riize fluff #riize angst #seunghan #riize seunghan #riize fics #riize imagines #riize ff #riize au #riize fanfic #riize x reader #riize #seunghan fic #seunghan imagines

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russo-woso · 1 year ago

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No, you don’t get to do this | Leah Williamson

Summary Leah drunken mistakes lead to the worst consequences

It had started out as a normal day.

You had woken up with the strong arms of your girlfriend, Leah, wrapped around you.

Knowing she had a long day full of training, you slipped out of her embrace and made your way downstairs to make her breakfast.

The connection you both had was so strong, that as soon as you had finished making it, she walked down the stairs.

You had both met when you were 16, and Leah 17. She had walked into you whilst walking round the local park, and to make it up to you, she offered to buy you a drink at the cafe near by.

You went on several dates after that, before finally, you shared a kiss and Leah asked you to be her girlfriend.

Since then, you've only expanded your love day by day and the love you felt seemed that it would never die out.

That was only how it felt for you though.

Whilst Leah was at training, you had gone out shopping, buying all the essentials you'd need for the next week.

Once you arrived back home, you made yourself some lunch before sitting down and grabbing your phone, for the first time that day.

You caught up on everything there was to see before finally clicking on Instagram.

There was one specific notification on instagram that caught your attention.

You and Leah liked to keep your relationship private, you always had.

But people liked to investigate you, and your relationship with Leah. I mean, of course they would, you were in a relationship with England's captain.

Because of this, the fans knew you just as much as they did Leah.

So, when you were tagged in videos, you thought nothing of them.

Sometimes you clicked on them because you thought why not. Sometimes you didn't.

But as soon as you clicked on the latest notification, your heart shattered.

In front of your eyes, lay a picture of Leah, your Leah, kissing another girl.

It had been taken from last Friday. Leah went out with a close friend of hers, Alex Scott, and decided to wear a new suit she had bought, the exact suit she was wearing in the picture.

Almost immediately after realising what the picture was telling you, tears started to run down your face.

Leah had kissed a girl, a girl that wasn't you.

You put your lunch down on the table, there was no way you could eat now, your appetite had gone.

You felt disgusted. Disgusted by Leah's actions.

You ran up the stairs before collapsing onto the bed.

You buried your head in the pillow, soaking it with your tears.

Your eyelids started falling and with the exhaustion from crying, they finally gave way and you fell into a deep sleep.

You only awoke again once you heard the sound of keys.

"Baby, I'm home." Leah's voice filled the house.

The memories of the picture flooded your head and once again, tears escaped your eyes.

"Baby? Where are you?" Leah asked, confusion clear in her voice.

The sound of footsteps became louder before finally, the door to your shared bedroom opened.

"Oh, my love, why are you crying? Come here." Leah stepped closer, ushering you into a hug.

"No."

"What? What's wrong? You can tell me anything, baby. I'm here." Leah once again tried to hug you, but this time you pushed her away.

"No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come in here, into our house, Leah, and act like nothings wrong." You tried to shout at her, but your voice was hoarse from the crying and exhaustion.

"What are you talking about?"

"How could you, Leah? I thought you were mine and I was yours. Clearly not anymore. I can't believe you." Your voice broke as tears continued to stream down your face.

"Listen, my love, I'm so sorry. I was so drunk and so was she. It was a regret as soon as I pulled away. You've got to believe me, Y/N. I love you, only you." Leah said, coming to realisation about what you were on about.

"Get out." You managed to say, full of pain.

You never imagined yourself and Leah in this situation.

And here you were, watching Leah pack a bag with her essentials in.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much, I'll only ever love you. I was so fucking stupid." Leah apologised again, and you shook your head in response, you couldn't deal with any more of this, not tonight anyway.

It had started as a normal day, waking with Leah beside you, and now you were falling asleep, feeling cold and empty, with no Leah in bed.

The following day, you stayed in bed.

You physically couldn't move. The only thing that clouded your mind was the picture of Leah and that woman.

You had never experienced a break up before.

Leah was your first everything.

Your first relationship, your first kiss, your first time.

Which is why this break up was even harder for you. It had always been you and Leah, and now it wasn't.

You were cuddled up in the duvet, but yet, you still felt cold.

And you only felt colder when you finally left the bed because the doorbell had gone off.

You left your bedroom, and the sound of silence filled your ears.

You reached the door and opened it to find a big bouquet of flowers.

You picked them up, walking back inside and put them on the kitchen counter.

Buried inside them was a single note.

I'm so sorry, baby.

- your L

You burst into tears. You didn't know what to do.

On one hand, you never wanted to speak to Leah again. But on the other, you just wanted your Leah back.

Your want for Leah back expanded again when you were laying in bed that night.

You couldn't fall asleep. Your bed was empty without Leah beside you.

Over the next few days, Leah had messaged to say sorry, and at 2 o'clock everyday, the doorbell went off.

Every time you opened the door, you were met with a small gift.

On the first day, it was flowers, the second day, it was chocolate, today, it was a hot chocolate.

To anyone else, a cup of hot chocolate would have been a random things to give to someone when trying to say sorry.

But to you, it was a thoughtful gift that happened to be an inside joke for you and Leah.

On your first date with Leah, when she took you to the local cafe, you had asked for a hot chocolate, in a take away cup.

You hated the taste of coffee but wanted to look sophisticated and so asked for a hot chocolate in a to go cup so you could make out that it was coffee.

When Leah found out, she fell into a laughing fit and has never forgotten since.

Once you bought the hot chocolate inside, you chuckled to yourself, before tears welled in your eyes.

Later on that night, you settled yourself on the sofa and put on a movie that you hadn't watched in a while.

Midway through, the doorbell went again.

You hesitantly got up, not knowing who it was and the fact that it was 9:30.

You opened it cautiously to be met with Leah's face.

"Can we talk?" She asked and you nodded.

"I don't know if you've gotten the message or not, but I am so sorry. I regret kissing that woman, I regret going out that night, I regret everything about that night. I drank so much that night and something came over me, but I love you Y/N/N. Only you. I will do whatever it takes to get you back. I just — I can't lose you. And I know I probably already have, but I'll try my hardest. I can't fall asleep at night because you're not there. I can't close my eyes because all I see is you, and it kills me knowing that I can't be with you. It's always been Leah and Y/N. I can't be just Leah." Leah explains, her voice breaking towards the end.

"Le, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It's unfair that I just came here. I'm sorry." Leah turned around quickly, walking towards the door.

"Leah, wait." You call out. She turns around again, hope in her eyes. "You promise you won't do anything like that again?"

"I promise. God, I was so stupid. I won't do anything like that again. You're the only one I want to kiss." Leah says, tears falling from her eyes.

"Good, because you're the only one I want to kiss too." You say and rest both your hands on her face, your thumbs wiping her tears away.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so so sorry." Leah sobs and rests her forehead on yours.

"Ssh, I know you are. I know." You coo and press a light kiss to her head.

"Can I kiss you?" Leah asks and without answering, you plant your lips on hers.

It was a slow kiss, but a kiss where all of the love you felt for one another was poured into it.

As the kiss came to an end, you felt Leah smile against your lips, before burying her head in your neck.

"Thank you so much for giving me another chance." Leah mumbled into your neck

"You've still got a lot of making up to do, missy."

"I know, and I will."

"I know you will." You smile and reconnected your lips.

#leah williamson #woso community #woso x reader

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varpusvaras · 7 months ago

Text

Breha confided in Visaiya first.

Visaiya had already heard about Bail's sudden call, as it had very much interrupted the proceedings before, and she was anxious to hear what Bail had to say.

"Was everything alright?" She asked, once they were in the privacy of Breha's office.

"Bail has found his other soulmate", Breha told her.

Visaiya had just sat down, and she jumped right back up.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Who is it?"

"We are not entirely sure yet", Breha answered. "But it seems that it was one of the clones in the Coruscant Guard."

Visaiya drew back a little.

"Well, that is a development for sure", she said. "How can you not be sure yet? There needs to be a point of connection, after all."

"Bail talked with several of them", Breha said. "He is going to talk to the Commander of the Guard, as he was with the troopers as well. If it really is one of his men, he needs to know, too."

Visaiya nodded, clearly thinking.

"What about the Commander himself?" She asked. "Did Bail talk with him?"

"I am not sure", Breha said. "Possibly. He was a bit surprised by the whole thing. It was sudden, after all, and it has been so long since we got our marks."

She looked down on her hand, at the two flowers on her skin. One on the left, one on the right, with just enough space between them for a third.

Sometimes it just takes time, her grandmother had said, and Breha was starting to understand now how truly correct she had been about everything.

There had been no way for anyone to predict something like this happening.

"What about you?" Visaiya asked. "When are you going to Coruscant?"

Right. If Bail had found his soulmate, one that shared the mark with them...it stood to reason that perhaps, he would be Breha's soulmate as well.

It made her nervous, in a way that waiting to find her soulmate for the first time around had not. She had met Bail without knowing that he shared the mark with her at first. Now she knew there was someone there, someone who she didn't yet know, but who she knew shared a connection with her, a connection much deeper than either of them could understand.

Breha had wanted a soulmate. She had craved that connection, that familiarity and belonging.

If someone was meant to have that connection with her, she would never deprave them of that.

"Clear my schedule for the rest of the week", she told Visaiya. "I'll be going as soon as Bail has some news for me."

--- ---

Bail called her the next evening.

"I didn't have to ask around for long", he told her. "The Commander seemed to expect me to arrive."

"He had already heard about it, then?" Breha asked, carefully. Either the Commander had heard about it, or-

"Certainly", Bail said. "It is him."

Breha left for Coruscant the next morning.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

Breha wasn't sure how else she should've described him when she saw him for the first time in person. She had seen him, before, of course, having received glimpses of him through Bail before this.

He was notable in a way that Breha couldn't help but notice him. He stood tall, with his shoulders resting in perfect attention, and the deep red of his armor making him immediately stand out from his surroundings, like a painting on a white gallery wall.

The most notable thing about him, though, was his face.

Breha had not seen his face before. She had seen the armor and everything else, but not his face. He had his helmet on when Breha stepped inside Bail's office, and his eyes, soft and deep dark brown, immediately moved to her, giving her their whole attention. There was something in his eyes that Breha couldn't quite make out, something well guarded.

"Good afternoon", Breha greeted him. "Commander Fox."

Commander Fox bowed down his head.

"Good afternoon", he greeted her back. "Your Majesty."

When he straightened his back and lifted his eyes back to Breha's, she felt it. The familiar feeling of blooming underneath her skin.

There was no doubt of it then.

Breha smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you", she said. "I feel like we have a lot to talk about."

She gave her hand to him, and she saw his eyes glance towards the mark on her wrist.

The mark, that now bore three flowers, the one in the middle interlocking all three of them together.

His fingers on his left hand clenched briefly, before he gave her his hand as well.

"It seems so", he said.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

He was very intelligent, that Breha noticed right away. He chose his words well, and was always watching attentively for every movement either Breha or Bail made, continuously reading the room around him.

He reminded Breha of Bail, a little, when he was in the middle of a Senate session or even a debate of any sort.

"We were not ever really explained the meaning of the marks", he told them, sitting on the edge of the office couch with his back straight and his hands resting on his lap. "The Kaminoans left any further cultural education for our trainers. They taught us that the marks are a private matter, and shouldn't be shown to outsiders. No further education on to what outsiders exactly meant. I am guessing now, that it means anyone who doesn't have the matching marks."

He knew what the marks were, now, as it had been impossible to not notice them while on Coruscant, surrounded by millions of beings.

"I am not sure about how to proceed", he said, at the end of it, and then sat there quietly, waiting for either of them to move the discussion forward.

He definitely reminded Breha of Bail.

"We will proceed however you like", Bail said diplomatically. "Soulmarks are a mark of a connection. It is entirely up to you what type of connection you wish to have."

Commander Fox gave them a wary look at that point.

"You two are married", he said, his tone free of accusations, but the words themselves made his message clear.

"We got to know each other first", Breha said. "We didn't get married the moment we learned we shared a mark. He is one of my best friends, and I wanted to have him sharing my life and duty. Marriage was the best suited option for us."

Commander Fox nodded, slowly, comtemplating his next move.

"I am not comfortable with acting upon any meaning yet", he said. He didn't sound harsh when he said it, even though he was speaking firmly. It was an opening, even if it was a small one.

"That is more than understandable", Bail said. "We do not wish to force you into anything. A soulmate is not supposed to be chain, nor the mark a brand."

Commander Fox was quiet for a moment.

"Can I ask one question, then?" He asked.

"Of course", Breha said. "Anything you want."

"Why was it important for you to come here, Your Majesty?" He asked, looking at Breha. "I already received one mark. If you do not wish to force me into anything, was it necessary for me to receive the second one as well?"

It was a fair question.

"I came here partly because I wished to see if you'd be my soulmate as well, yes", Breha said. "I did not wish to potentially deprave you of a connection, either. I came here partly because you are my husband's soulmate, and even if you didn't share a connection with me, you would still be a part of my life as well, regardless. I wanted to extend that knowledge to you as well."

Commander Fox nodded once again. His eyes glanced towards Bail, to see his reaction, and when there was none too large, his eyes returned to Breha.

"I do accept this connection", he said. "I wish you accept my will for it to remain a private matter."

"Of course", Breha said. "Currently only us three, and my closest advisor know about this. It will not spread any further against your wishes."

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. There was a brief spout of contemplative silence once again, before he spoke. "I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to know who shared a mark with me, but if it had to be anyone, I am grateful for it to be you. You have always been respectful of me and my brothers."

They were kind words. Another small opening, though Breha could sense that they were aimed more towards Bail.

"We appreciate your admission", Bail said, clearly sensing the same as Breha. "It is the respect you and your brothers are entitled to, though I understand why it seems like an act you ought to feel grateful for."

"We are not entitled to anything", Commander Fox said. "We are here to serve the Republic. That is our duty."

"It is a great duty", Bail said. "One that you are doing admirably. You are still all people, and you are entitled to be treated as such."

Breha saw how Commander Fox's jaw clenched, ever so slightly. Otherwise, his expression didn't change.

She wondered if he had ever heard anyone say those words to him while looking him in the eyes, without the helmet in between.

"The Republic disagrees", he said. It was a firm statement, said with conviction.

"The Republic is wrong in many cases", Bail said. "No system is ever flawless. That doesn't mean the good parts are not worth being heralded. I serve the Republic, too, and I am serving it by trying to make it a better place for us all, and that includes you and your brothers."

"There is a war to be won", Commander Fox said. "And it is not won by being nice."

"It is not", Bail agreed. "But it is also not won by sacrificing everything for one goal."

That answer seemed to satisfy Commander Fox, or at least it gave him something more to think about. Breha had never really enjoyed politics as themselves too much, but she had to admit that she had found the conversation in front of her fascinating.

Commander Fox was a notable man even with his helmet on, and even more so without it.

"We all serve the Republic", Breha said, making Commander Fox's attention snap back to her. "We all serve the people in it. We are all making sacrifices, some of us bigger than others. I do believe that you and your brothers are making the greatest sacrifice of them all. Even if you do not think of yourself being entitled to the respect that belongs to every person, I wish that you would at the very least believe in the respect that belongs to you for that. I wish to pay my respects for you and your brothers and on your sacrifice, no matter for how noble of a cause it is. We all serve the Republic, but let us also serve you in return."

Commander Fox leaned back ever so slightly on his seat. He looked a bit surprised, if Breha had to determine his emotions from his expression.

"Do you believe that necessary?" He asked her. He did sound accusing this time, though Breha couldn't blame him for it. She was contesting his entire reason for his existence, after all.

"I do", she said. "What does it say about us all, if we would be comfortable with accepting your sacrifice without graditute? What else would we be comfortable accepting then?"

Commander Fox looked at her for a moment. Breha didn't turn to look away. If he was resolute, so was she. There were things she could not or would not compromise upon, and he could accept them or not, and Breha would accept his decision, not change hers. Not on this.

Finally, Commander Fox seemed to come into decision.

"We all serve the Republic", he said. "I will serve it by fighting for it, and you will serve it by upholding it."

"Yes", Bail said. "This war will not make the Republic into a place where it is acceptable to shed blood to bind the foundations of it together."

"On that we can all agree, then", Commander Fox said. "My brothers will not die in vain."

"They will not", Breha promised. "I promise that with my integrity as a Queen. And I will promise you, as your soulmate, that I shall do the best by you."

"I promise you the same", Bail said. "I swear on it, as I swore to be a Senator and seek for the betterment of us all, and I swear to you, as your soulmate, to be what you need me to be for you."

Commander Fox looked at them, his mouth opening once but his voice remaining quiet. He looked conflicted, Breha thought, but that only lasted for a brief moment.

It was replaced then with another resolution, but there was a shadow of resignation on his face, too.

"My place is with my brothers", he said. "I cannot promise you the same."

"That is alright", Breha said. "Like I said, we will serve you all, as you serve the Republic. Take this as part of our service, for you."

Commander Fox relaxed, ever so slightly, like he was relieved. Breha didn't blame him, as she could imagine, had it been her there instead of him, she would've definitely been relieved.

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. Breha smiled at him.

"We should be thanking you", she said. "It has been wonderful to meet you."

She meant it. Commander Fox was a notable man. Intelligent, loyal, dutiful. It the Force had made it's decision to give Breha and Bail a connection to him, she would serve that will to its fullest.

For Commander Fox himself, and for all of his brothers. There was no singling him out, not when he shared his place and fate with them all.

Breha would serve him, and she would serve them all.

"The pleasure has been all mine", Commander Fox said, polite and mellow, and Breha was suddenly struck with a wish to keep the conversation going, still, to see what else there would be to talk about between them all, to see more of how they would all be able to fit in with each other.

It was then, though, when the comlink attached to Commander Fox's armor started to blink, and he stood up from the couch.

"I'm afraid I have to take my leave now", he said, reaching to grab his helmet from the couch, where it had been sitting next to him. "I am needed elsewhere."

"That is quite alright", Bail said. "It was truly a pleasure to speak with you, Commander. I hope that we could speak more, some other time. I wish you good luck on your duties."

Breha rose from her seat, and Bail followed suit.

"I wish the same", Breha said. "I won't be staying on Coruscant for much longer, but would you agree on having my contact with you, so you could speak with me while I'm on Alderaan, if you ever feel the need to do so?"

Commander Fox tilted his head ever so slightly, looking a bit curious by her request momentarily, before he caught himself and straightened his posture again.

"If you wish so", he said. He took the contact chip from Breha when she offered it to him, and then he rolled his shoulders back. "Thank you, Your Majesty, Senator, for your time."

He bowed his head, so polite and so proper, like he had been practicing it beforehand. Maybe he had been.

"Thank you, Commander Fox", Breha said. "I hope to speak with you again soon."

Commander Fox straightened his back.

"Likewise", he said. "Goodbye."

Then he turned around and pulled his helmet over his head in one, swift motion, and with a few long strides, he was out of the office.

Breha watched as he disappeared from her view as the door slid close after him, leaving only her and Bail standing there.

It was quiet for a moment, before Bail drew in a deep breath.

"I feel like", he said, looking at the door, "whatever happens next, will change us all."

Breha couldn't agree more.

She looked down, at her hand, and at the three flowers on her wrist, with their petals interlocked with each other.

There was a reason, a reason the Force has spent a long time deciding upon, for the connection between them, evident by the marks they all carried on them.

Whatever that reason was, Breha would fullfill it.

#Soulmate Marks AU #part 2 #I LIED this ended up a three parter #they're just so very interesting to write and I have so much for them to talk about #and I can't write angst while on vacay because I WILL cry so hey we all get more of this #only fitting since there are three of them am I right lmao #sw #tcw #my writing #Star Writing #Commander Fox #Bail Organa #Breha Organa #bail/breha/fox

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dollfaced-erin · 1 year ago

Text

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 16

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15

A/n :-

how has everyone been since i was gone ?? i hope you all have been doing okay !! i was trying to do requests but i was WHOLLY stumped so i had to take some time off from writing to refresh myself a bit so sorry i didnt update about my past hiatus ! Another thing im not sure if i mentioned before, but Dan Jia-(Y/n) is about the tall woman model size, but would be shortest amongst all of them !

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @samptlay , @boomie-123

(Y/n) felt baffled from what Kafka had told her. For a Mara-stricken individual, he managed to maintain more than just a shred of his sanity, his senses, and his distant memories where most involved would've been buried deep in their graves.

All maintained by a simple desire, a longing to see a beloved he had left behind so unwillingly. The cradle of arms he fled from as soon as things had fallen from their originally planned course.

(Y/n) left Kafka's questioning to someone else, and she moved away to ponder on her thoughts and opinions. Her heart was heavy with guilt and misery, feeling empty and lonely. Her steps were hollow and light, walking off without a motive.

Perhaps it was the Dan Jia in her heart that longed for the arms of her lover's embrace...? Could that still be possible despite her accepting the fact that Dan Jia was once her past and she had learned to let go of the past, Dan Jia still had longings ?

Or...was it herself that yearned for what she once had, with a lover reformed anew ?

(Y/n) admitted that she indeed longed for Blade, his arms and warmth bringing her great comfort and familiarity. She admitted that perhaps there was a longing for his renewed self to be with her as they once were, but was that what she really wanted...?

All he wanted was to go home and rest...

And all she wanted was to dance again under the moonlight...

But what about Jing Yuan...?

She couldn't just leave him. She didn't have the heart to. Not after what he had done for her before and after her slumber...

But if the time came to choose...

She would choose--

"Lady (Y/n) !" a voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

The dragon lady immediately turned around to face the voice that called for her, and there was the Fu Xuan, looking straight at her and coming up to the taller lady.

"Fu Xuan." (Y/n) greeted with a nod of her head. She knew what the Master Diviner wanted to ask her. It was an itching question that everyone who saw what Fu Xuan did and heard what Kafka said clearly had the same questions.

What was her connection to Blade...?

"I'm sorry if it stirs up...distant woes..." Fu Xuan began, feeling a little hesitant to ask the question plaguing her mind.

"B-but I hope you understand the utmost importance of this information ! It's for the safety of--!" "Worry not, Master Diviner." (Y/n) said softly, her gaze softening as her luminescent (e/c) eyes landed on the pink haired lady, who was usually so composed, now reduced to a stuttering mess in her presence.

"I...was Blade's past lover. Well...Dan Jia was." (Y/n) said, a hand on her heart that beat so distantly in her chest. She felt a gnawing void eating away inside her, so she moved her hand to the accessory dangling by her pointed ear, fiddling with it with her fingers.

"The legend of the lovers under the moon...isn't merely a legend, you know ?" She said with a silent sigh, a distant look in her eyes.

It was a legend. It was widely believed to be true, a strong belief amongst the commonfolk to never overstep the boundaries of interracial romance, lest they befall the pain of separation due to the differences in their lifespans.

The legend was indeed true, but it wasn't the entire truth either. It was a forged story to show the disastrous end of the lovers. The one that died. And the other that fell into madness. It served as a warning to remind them. But of course, it was treated as a tragic love story and had young lovers to be daring like the heroes in the tale.

"But Lady (Y/n)-- AH!"

The ground beneath them shook, a loud rumbling filled their ears along with sharp gusts of wind whizzing past them. The wind was exceptionally dangerous, most of them struggling to keep their eyes open.

"Lady Fu Xuan !" (Y/n) called out, reaching for Fu Xuan's hand to help stabilize their stance on the shaking platform.

That was...before she heard Tingyun shout over the gusts.

"Th-The Ambrosial Arbor !"

(Y/n)'s head whipped from looking at the Master Diviner to the direction where the dormant tree would've been. And she gasped, the sight before her sending cold chills down her spine.

She had never seen this before. Not in all her hundreds of years living.

The tree that had been subdued for eons...was growing again. The trunk got taller and taller, gold substance running through its veins with power and life. Fiery golden leaves sprouted and combust into eternal flame, lighting up the sky with green-yellow fire that could never be put out. Some began to shed, its eerie golden sheen making it seem like it was gold leaves instead of fruit of the forbidden. Words began to hang from the trees like large talismans, words of immortality and curses in headlines.

Screams of civilians were loud and heard from the streets, the divination commission, filled with terror and question and horror. No one had ever foreseen the signs of the tree, feeding seeds of terror like plague spreading.

But this was indeed the sign of the Abundance. The forbidden seed that the Plagues Author Yaoshi had planted. And it was blooming again.

Stelle looked at the tree in concern, though she knew little of its origin and its representation. The Stellaron Hunter behind her smirked, already anticipating this from the anonymous source, Destiny's Slave.

Kafka chuckled, a sweet sound of her sigh as magenta eyes watched the chaos and discord surrounding her. The binds that held her wrists together snapped in a blink of an eye, without the littlest effort. She admired the state of her body and her clothes, before turning to head off without anyone noticing.

"Stelle !" (Y/n) exclaimed as when she rushed over and heard the sound of the chains snapping into nothingness. The female trailblazer perked up, turning to (Y/n) who pointed in direction to Kafka who was escaping without hesitation nor curiousity.

Just as she was about to catch up to Kafka, a figure with long dark hair landed between them, separating the two. The divine weapon in his gloved hand shone, the gold in the cracks glittering in the dim lighting as the figure stood up.

Dangerous red eyes watched Stelle carefully, his blade pointed to the young woman menacingly. Then they landed on (Y/n), without a hint of surprise nor did he even try to search for her.

Blade knew she was there.

But (Y/n) was shocked to see him.

Lover or not, he was threatening the lives of the innocent, so she rushed forward and pushed the taller girl behind her, fan in her hand. She was ready to fight him should the need arise.

But looking into his tired but passionate eyes, she knew he had no intention to attack. Just standing still to serve as a warning.

"Let's go, Bladie~" the wine-red haired woman called out as she looked down from the platform they were standing on, as if to approximate the height of the platform to the main ground or to foreplan their landing.

"Two more places to visit..." the woman said, before turning around and falling off the ledge freely, arms widespread as she did.

Blade immediately put the shattered sword behind his back in a stance, giving (Y/n) one last longing glance. It seemed that he had more to say but out came no words nor did his mouth open to say the words he desired to whisper.

But they needed no words to be able to tell what he wanted to say.

"Stay out of this."

With that he swiftly left and dived down, following after Kafka.

The two swiftly landed on the ground and merely walked through the public without the need to hide nor camouflage. The revival of the Ambrosial Arbor served as the perfect distraction.

Kafka smiled and laughed softly as she walked past the guards and civilians, taking in the sweet feeling of fear, a feeling she wasn't able to experience herself. Then she saw her companion that looked a little less than usual.

"Oh, don't look so disdainful, Bladie...you'll get to see that princess soon than later." She said with a soft chuckle leaving her slightly chapped lips.

"No." The brooding man answered in a deep voice, as if holding back his own emotions and thoughts.

"I don't want her to get involved. I don't want her to get hurt."

"But with the path chosen, she'll have to get involved, whether she likes it or not." Kafka replied with a sorry smile on her lips.

Ah...lovebirds...

"Agh ! Did Kafka escape ? How are we supposed to explain this to the Master Diviner ?!" March groaned, looking down from the platform they stood on, then back to (Y/n) and Stelle.

"If what she said is true, then we wont have to explain anything." Stelle said, and (Y/n) who stood next to her nodded, a frustrated frown on her lips.

"H-hey ! D-did she brainwash you ?!"

(Y/n) chuckled softly and shook her head in amusement.

As they were heading back to meet up with the Master Diviner, who (Y/n) had left hanging a while ago due to the fear of the Stellaron Hunter running lose before them, they had met up with a certain foxian Amicassador who was standing on one of the bridges on the other end of the screens, staring at the tree in awe.

"Wasn't this the dead tree Qingque showed us earlier ? How did it grow all of a sudden ?" March asked as they watched the fiery tree blazing in the distance, fire eternally burning without leaving any ash nor dying out.

"Amazing ! Absolutely amazing !" Tingyun gasped, watching the Ambrosial Arbor with intense fascination in her eyes. "Even the long-lived might not witness something like this in their lifetime ! I'm incredibly lucky !"

(Y/n) could merely stare at the brunette, suspicion in her bright (e/c) eyes. Was this a normal reaction towards the plagues of abundance thriving ? She would've expected a more...horrified reaction, but...maybe that's youth these days ?

Perhaps they didn't really account towards the horrible meaning the tree represented. Nor the sacrifices made to keep it sealed deep down in waters...

"No. This isn't something to rejoice about." (Y/n) said sternly, glaring at the tree with hate and remorse. "This tree...is a plaguemark of the Plagues Author. And it was by no normal means was it revived. It was meant to stay dormant, and sealed."

"Such...extraordinary energy. It's no doubt the Stellaron." Welt said, stepping up and pushing up his glasses up his nose.

"Mr. Yang, do you mean...that the Stellaron is making the Ambrosial Arbor grow ?" March asked, looking at the older man who stood next to the former High Elder of the Xianzhou : Luofu.

"Yes, the Stellaron that the Cloud Knights are searching for must be causing this anomaly !" Welt said, looking at (Y/n) who looked oddly guilty, seeming restless.

She knew the reason for the seal growing weak. It was her own fault. But...

She looked at her own hands.

She alone isn't enough to seal the power. Her power is split into two, and she has no idea whether the authority still lied within her, or was it passed onto Bailu, the current High Elder...?

And she didn't know what happened after Imbibator Lunae's execution. Was he safe ? Where was he ? What did he look like now ?

Welt noticed the anxiousness of the woman next to him, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he tried not to startle her. He smiled warmly at her, nodding his head.

"Whatever the cause, we must first go meet Lady Fu Xuan." He said, looking straight into (Y/n)'s eyes.

Yes. That was exactly what they needed right now. So she nodded her head. Welt nodded again, relieved that she was alright and still within the zone.

So off they went, walking towards the inner gates of the Divination Commission to find Fu Xuan.

"Unless Kafka deceived the Matrix of Prescience..." Fu Xuan mumbled, putting her hand to her lips, anxiously biting on her thumb subconsciously.

"Stay calm, Master Fu, the Matrix of Prescience does not lie." Jing Yuan said softly. "The logic you laid out concerning Kafka makes sense-- it helped me fill in another piece of the puzzle."

"I agree that there is a hostile external force at work on the Luofu. The Stellaron didn't appear out of thin air-- someone managed to sneak it onto the ship." Jing Yuan explained to the anxious Master Diviner, but his own face looking grim and serious, noting that this wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"As for the culprits behind the Luofu's internal strive, I believe we are dealing with the so-called Disciples of Sanctus Medicus-- that shadowy organization of the Denizens of Abundance."

"Kafka's revelation's confirm my suspicions." Jing Yuan said with a nod of his head, a small smile on his lips.

But his insight was what shocked Fu Xuan instead of relieving her. "You..." She stuttered, thinking about her choice of words for a bit. "General, when did you have these suspicions ?"

This man surely wasn't a force to be taken lightly. But with that lazy gaze of his and his lack of enthusiasm for work made people look down on him or even disregard him as a threat.

But he wasn't the one of the seven Arbiter-Generals for nothing.

"The moment the planter of the Stellaron revealed themself." He said simply, crossing over his arms. "The Xianzhou has the blessing of the Reignbow Arbiter-- only another Aeon's Emanator would be capable of sneaking onto the ship without my knowing."

"We are dealing with an external threat."

"The Stellaron corrosion continues to flood into the ship, yet it bypassed both the Seat of Divine Foresight and The Shackling Prison...there is forethought here-- our enemy must have had the access to Luofu Intelligence for things to unfold this way..." Jing Yuan said, looking around the base of the Divination Commission.

This reminded him of a scene long in the past.

Of an arrogant man seeking to be paid favor by the man with the coldest stares and the most selfish and self-centered man, resulting the in the death of a beloved.

"It is evident now..." Jing Yuan sighed softly.

Shall events come to unfold the same as in the past, he wouldn't let the same outcome happen again. No. This time, he's an adult with power and experience.

He'd do anything to protect that soft smile on those smooth lips he watched to be still for centuries.

"The Stellaron Hunters..." Jing Yuan addressed, looking at a little solemn at the mention of the faction. "They aren't the ones behind the curtain. No, as soon as I set eyes on Blade, it was clear to me. But why is he here ?"

He knew the answer to that question. But that wasn't enough of a reason. Why did he bring Kafka ? Why this timing with the Stellaron burst ?

"And why did he draw the Astral Express ? That piece of the puzzle still eludes me."

The man thought long and hard about it, but he was still confused to specifically why the Astral Express had to be brought here onto the Xianzhou Luofu. Why not anywhere else ? Why during this timing ?

He couldn't answer that himself.

He sighed.

"Nevertheless, Lady Fu." The tall general said, looking at the smaller lady before him. "Your intel means the puzzle is more complete than it was before, haha."

"These Stellaron Hunters are a captivating group-- such lengths to get the Xianzhou and the Express on the same track. Who would've believed it ?"

Fu Xuan was getting a little pissed though, this wasn't anything related to the current status quo.

"General, we must retain all urgency ! The Ambrosial Arbor--" "It's the Stellaron." The General cut her off with a frown on his lips.

"No need to search high and low-- the traitors have planted it in the Ambrosial Arbor's delve, thereby causing the tree to grow once again. The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus couldn't hold off any longer." Jing Yuan said, unfolding his arms.

"Every crisis has a turning point." Fu Xuan said softly. "A problem is easier to resolve when you know where it lies."

Jing Yuan then smirked at her words, putting his hand on his hip as he knowingly raised his eyebrows at her. Fu Xuan didn't get it for a moment, but when she did, she frowned with a small pout on her lips.

"Am I coming up with the plan again...?" She sighed, looking up at him.

"Of course," Jing Yuan said without shame nor hesitation. "I'm sure you have a countermeasure at the ready, Master Diviner."

"From my perspective, convening the Cloud Knights is our immediate priority." Fu Xuan said after a while of thinking. "We must head into the roots of the Ambrosial Arbor, expel the Stellaron spirits, and prevent the Arbor's resurrection."

"I hope we need not ask the assistance of the Saltator Lunae...it would be...quite poor of us to make her use her powers after being in and out of consciousness repeatedly..." Fu Xuan said, looking down, deep in thought. "I propose that we request her help shall the need arises."

"Mhmm~" he hummed in satisfaction, nodding his head to the Master Diviner's thoughts towards resolving the matter. "As ever the Master Diviner's omniscia provides the fastest solution. However, sometimes speed is not everything."

"I have known the Stellaron's location for a while now, so why have I held back our forces ? Why did I let (Y/n) roam around even when I knew is her...unstable constitution ?" He asked, letting Fu Xuan think for a moment.

Fu Xuan thought for a moment, looking down before her eyes went back up to Jing Yuan.

"General..."

"You're a scoundrel."

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, shaking his head softly. Those words...were somewhere distant in his past, in his memory, through years of living.

He looked at the board of Starchess before him, smiling smugly as he looked at his opponent who sat across him. She frowned, her eyebrow twitching in displeasure and irritation.

"Jing Yuan, you scoundrel." She said with contempt.

"Haha~ you cant say that, (Y/n). It is unbecoming of the benevolent and highly-respected Saltator Lunae~" He said with a smirk on his lips, chuckling with pride and slyness.

"And you cannot use such underhanded tactics in trying to fool me." Dan Jia said, hands on her hips as her beautiful hair swayed in the wind.

"Who said I was fooling you, dear friend ?" He asked, reaching out a hand to sweep back her soft and silky strands of hair behind ear.

"I was just...suggesting you a move and you fell right into my trap."

"You're just too kind for your own good, Dan Jia." He said, putting his chin in the palm of his hand, a light blush on his cheeks as he retracted his hand from her.

"You should be careful. People might take your kindness for granted, or even take advantage of your naivety."

Dan Jia pouted, crossing over her arms over her chest with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks for being called naive and gullible.

"It would surely eat you up one day. So be careful..."

And it really was the reason for her downfall, being betrayed by her family. Her lover and her brother.

#dragon's cradle #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x you #hsr blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr blade x you #blade x reader #blade x you

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