#anyways!! thank you so much for sending all of these in!! we definitely do not have to incorporate any of these in...and also | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vettelsvee · 6 months ago

Text

SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

2K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 years ago

Text

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

7K notes · View notes

mirainwonderland · 2 months ago

Text

Content: MDNI, jealous Leon, afab sub, m dom, Leon x reader, cunnilingus (f receiving), unprotected, p in v, smut with some plot

Words: 3.4k

A/N: via request to expand on my headcanon of jealous Leon I come bearing this offering. (Thank you @daliastar) I hope I expressed how I think he would react well. If you enjoy it pls like and let me know, I love hearing from people ☺️ oh and if you have a request, send it over, I love ideas! :D okie bai have fun RIP you

──────────────────────

“What was that all about?” Leon tries to make his tone sound controlled and unbothered. It’s not working out so well. He tugs off his jacket trying to feign nonchalance, but there’s a fire burning beneath his rib cage.

“Hm?” Your oblivious little response makes the jealousy flare up even hotter, but he bites it back. It’s not like it was your fault. He doesn’t want to be that kind of guy anyway—that immature little prick that takes his insecurities out on his girlfriend.

You turn toward him, unbuttoning your dress as you do, and he finds his gaze drifting low over the sliver of your chest and bra that’s becoming visible with each button freed.

Goddammit. That’s his. That’s all his! Every inch of that goddamn gorgeous body is his and his alone, and nobody or nothing is gonna get a sneak peek at his girl.

He snaps himself out of it before you notice his internal petulant tantrum that he’s desperately trying to keep just that: internal. He takes a deep breath and tosses his jacket onto the back of the chair, reaching for his belt next, hoping you won’t notice how he’s all but yanking it off like a sulky kid.

You haven’t noticed a thing. Hell, you’re not even looking at him as you focus on changing out of your outside clothes.

“That guy we ran into.” He tries not to spit out the words and make it obviously venomous. “Where do you know him from again?”

He’s attempting to sound interested rather than interrogating. And thank god you’re not paying close enough attention to see the boiling jealousy behind his eyes.

“Oh. I told you. Knew him back in college. Same classes as me or something. Can’t really remember, actually.”

Leon watches your back as you walk over to your vanity and pull your hair back, dress hanging open.

“You… go out with him or something?”

Your little laugh tells him that you haven’t caught on to the slight cyanide in his tone.

“Oh god no! He wasn’t really my type. I don’t think he sees me like that anyway.”

Leon stares at your reflection in the mirror hard, like he can’t even wrap his head around how fucking dense your big beautiful brain is sometimes.

“Oh he definitely sees you like that.”

You pause in taking off your makeup to look at his reflection in the mirror with that dry, disbelieving expression you give him. The little pink on your cheeks that’s not from your blush doesn’t make him feel any better. You shake your head with an unconvinced smile.

“Don’t be silly Leon.” You return to scrubbing off your makeup.

He watches long and hard while you do your skincare. Your face glows as your delicate fingers apply that face oil you love so much. He feels his dick stiffen with mixed feelings of jealousy, possessiveness, and thoughts along the lines of, Only I get to see her naked like that. Face, body, everything. Just me.

Dammit, he hates himself. More than anything right now, he hates himself. But it’s like something else is possessing him as he watches you slip out of your dress and go into your closet for something more comfortable to wear.

That’s it. He really can’t stand it anymore. He tosses aside the belt in his hand, not caring where it lands, and follows after you. He corners you in the closet, approaching from behind you where you can’t see him just as you’re pulling a pair of your favorite lounge set from your drawer. He catches you, big arms wrapping around you from behind.

“No.” He says, voice sounding tender in your ear, but laced with an intensity you pause for. He intercepts your hand, taking the pjs from you and tosses them back in the direction of the drawer. “Don’t put on anything else.”

His lips trail over the back of your neck.

“Leon…” You kind of laugh, bewildered. Your hands come to wrap around his forearms. “What are you doing?”

One hand reaches behind your hair to pull out the clip you’d pulled it back with and let your soft strands fall down around your face again.

Beautiful.

“You didn’t see the way that guy was looking at you?” He forces his voice to sound more concerned than jealous. “He was undressing you with his eyes.”

His lips and nose brush your temple as he stares straight ahead, remembering the interaction from earlier.

“You really need to be more careful, Y/N. Guys do stuff like this all the time.”

He gives your temple a kiss. He feels the jealously bubbling in his gut, making him clench his teeth and hold you a little tighter.

“Leon, he wasn’t—“

His jaw clenches so hard, he’s surprised that his teeth don’t shatter in his mouth.

“C’mere.” He says more lowly and calmly than he even expects to. He tugs you around to the mirror he’d hung in your closet, just for you. He makes you look into it with him behind you, your body clad in nothing more than the bra and panties you’d put on this morning.

“Look at her.” He refuses to let go, even a little bit. He nuzzles the back of your neck again, mouth at the skin there and nuzzling your hair aside so he can reach more.

“Watch her face.”

He slides a free hand around the front of your throat, holding your jaw securely in his hand to make sure you’re watching. You watch as your eyes lid and your cheeks flush the color of obscenity. Your lips part but nothing comes out. He noses your hair aside and nuzzles the side of your neck.

He bites down on the skin, and holds you a little tighter when you jerk. Your mouth opens in a silent ‘Oh!’.

“Leon, what are you-“

“Tell me to stop.” He blurts, cutting you off. His face is lifted from your neck and he’s staring you down in the mirror.

“I-“

“Tell me. To stop.” He says, slower this time, emphasizing every word. He feels like an absolute asshole. He feels like even if he asks for consent a million times he’ll never truly make you realize that what type of feelings you allow him when you say yes. Do you know you’re consenting to his jealous tantrum that makes him wanna smother you with his body?

“You… don’t have to stop.” You say carefully, a little curious and bewildered of whatever this is that seemed to come out of the blue.

It didn’t really of course, you’re just a sweet little oblivious girl—his girl, and he loves you to death. But sometimes. Sometimes he wishes you could know how he feels. Not to make you feel bad but so that you can give him the reassurance he doesn’t know how to ask for.

But he’s too good at hiding things from you.

He grits his teeth, studying your expression in the mirror.

“What am I gonna do with you…” He sighs, shaking his head almost disappointedly. You feel a pang in your chest. He’s not disappointed with you of course, but with himself.

He grabs your jaw with more intensity than before and forces it to tilt to the side so he can kiss at your neck. You grimace, waves and waves of shivers migrating down your spine to pool in the bottom of your panties.

He wants to prove it to himself. That he’s it. That he’s the one you come to for everything. That you won’t ever need another man again. He knows it’s awful, but he wants you to rely on him for these things. He wants to be the one you come to at the end of the day and curl up with, or take your clothes off for. Whichever one you’re in the mood for, he’ll be here. He’ll do it.

He kisses your neck and your shoulders, and massages your skin with a firm touch of his hands. You wince a couple times when he’s too forceful, but you never open your mouth and say anything. You never complain. Secretly, you kinda like it; and part of you can sense that this is something he needs.

He’s too lost in his own internal conflict and jealousy to even register his own strength. He can’t stand it. He didn’t want to be so direct and vulgar, but you’re not moaning enough. You’re not squirming enough. Not making enough of those faces he loves to see.

His hand slides down your stomach and disappears into your underwear. You gasp and stiffen when you feel his fingers brush you, and wide eyes meet his blue ones in the mirror.

“Tell me no.” He whispers, his breath fluttering your hair. His heart thuds so hard in his chest he fears you might feel it. He’s challenging you, but deep on the inside he’s afraid he’s pushing it. He almost wants you to push him away and smack some sense into him.

But you don’t. You just maintain eye contact with him and slowly shake your head.

“Fuck.” He breathes, low and drawn out in your ear as his hand cups your mound and his thumb brushes over your clit.

Your reaction sends waves of satisfaction through him, and for a moment it’s enough to numb the feelings of self-loathing and jealousy. You jerk against him, letting out the sweetest moan as your face twists into one of those expressions he loves so much. His arm muscles twitch, holding you a little harder to keep you still and anchored to him, unable to bear the idea of you even having a millimeter of skin not touching him.

“How are you already wet, baby?” He hums in your ear, almost not sure how to feel about it. Was it him? Idiot, of course it was. But… you didn’t like that guy at all… did you? That guy didn’t turn you on, even a little bit, did he?

With all his compliments and flattering language and-

He grunts again, this time a more aggressive, irritated sound. He shoves his nose against your ear, breathing heavily into it. Your spine twists in his hard grip.

“It’s me. I made you like that. Didn’t I, hm?” He feels stupid. He know’s he’s out of his head with even thinking this, and he feels so guilty. He almost feels like he’s not even worthy to be touching you.

Almost.

“Tell me baby.” He growls into your ear.

“Y-yes, Leon. Wh-“ You don’t even know how to react. You’re sort of lost on what’s going on. Why he’s suddenly like this out of the blue. Who else would do this to you?

“Damn right I did.” He stuffs two fingers into you, loving the sharp little cry you make and the way your body snaps in his arms. He tightens his grip and brings you back against his chest.

“Leon, what the hell!?” You cry out, but it comes out on more of breath of ecstasy than any real sort of scolding. What the hell has gotten into him?

“Don’t question it, baby. Just tell me how good it feels.”

You moan again.

“That’s right. Just like that.”

He grunts in frustration as he watches you in the mirror. As he watches the way his hand moves underneath your panties and how he can’t see anything with the fabric in the way. He pulls his hands out just long enough to tug the cotton down off your legs and watch them slide down around your ankles. Then he’s plunging the two fingers back inside you.

Your back curves against his chest and he catches you, wrapping his free arm around your chest, pinning your arms with it, and dragging his nose and lips up the side of your face.

“That’s it.” He praises as he closes his eyes for a minute, just listening to you and breathing you in. He opens them to look back in the reflection and watch his fingers slide in and out of your twitching channel. He watches with tightening jeans how willingly you take his fingers.

He feels a pang of insecurity. He knows his brain is feeding him lies, but he thinks about how easy you are for him. Would you be easy for someone else?

That’s stupid, Leon. You idiot. He scolds himself for having the intrusive thought. He immediatly feels horrible for even thinking it. He knows you’re not that kind of girl. He remembers how hard it was to get you to open up to him when you guys first started exploring intimacy together.

That coaxes a sense of pride into his chest. How willingly you give yourself to him. No other guy could be as lucky. No other guy would ever have this. Such a pretty girl, moaning and clenching on his fingers. His pretty girl.

“Look at you, dripping down those pretty legs.” He breathes in your ear, making you shudder. He pulls his fingers out with a little whimper from you.

“Can’t let it go to waste, can we?”

He licks his fingers clean.

He spins you around and sinks down to his knees, letting your back hit the cold surface of the mirror. You writhe and pant against it as he throws a leg over his shoulder and licks up all the trickles of nectar down the inside of your thighs, making his way centerward. He nibbles on the soft skin as he goes, making you gasp and choke and shudder, over and over again.

He places a confident, flat tongue against you and licks the entire surface of your opening. The tang of your juices slides down his throat, and the noises you make force his eyes closed as he savors taste and sound.

“Leon!”

“Easy, baby. I know it feels good.”

He does it again a second time. Fucking hell, you taste good. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. It makes your insides clench, and you double forward at the intensity, catching yourself with a hand on his shoulder. You grip it, hand fisting into his shirt.

“Mm.” He moans against your heat, sending vibrations through the already swollen and puffy bundle of nerves.

He’s determined. It’s the only revenge he knows how to enact at this point. It’s too bad you’re on the receiving end since you didn’t even do anything wrong. But he knows that you’re not ever gonna actually complain about this later.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, bringing two fingers to prod more gently into you than the first time. He takes his time, gently probing around inside you for that sweet spot. He knows he finds it when you practically melt on him like ice cream.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Give me more of that. C’mon.” He pulls away from your puffy clit long enough to murmur that gentle encouragement. He returns to sucking and biting gently on the sensitive nub, as he rubs his fingers encouragingly against the spot inside of you.

If he can’t make you cum with nothing more than his mouth and two fingers, he isn’t a man worthy of the title.

Every breath is a moan from your lips at this point. You feel the tension in your tummy growing tighter, and you’re desperately trying to reach that peak. You focus on his ministrations and his coaxing words, chasing that illusive feeling.

“Leon!” You’re fingers fly to fist into his hair for something to anchor to and feel like you have a little bit of leverage; even if control is just an illusion at this point. But you’re okay with that, you don’t want control.

You want to lose it.

“Please please please please!” You chant quietly under your breath as you focus on the rise. It climbs higher and higher and each breath fills your lungs to bursting as your mouth falls open wider.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me, sweetheart. Come on.”

He can’t take his eyes off your face. He grinds the pads of his fingers down on that sweet spot inside and sucks on your clit with everything he’s got. And he watches you explode.

It’s mind-numbing. Your body jerks hard and suddenly against the mirror and your wails of ecstasy fill the small walk-in like a symphony to his ears. He laps up your release like it’s a fountain of water and he’s a man dying of thirst.

He stimulates you through it until you grow limp against the mirror. He’s on his feet as you pant against the reflection and his mouth is on yours in a blink, forcing your taste into your mouth as he grips your arms tightly.

All the fight has gone out of you anyway, and you feel weightless. You just take it, allowing him to hold you there as long as he wants. You gasp for a deep breath when his lips finally release yours, and slump into his arms.

Fuck. He looks down at you all dazed in his arms, and he immediately feels like such a dick. He does feel a little self-satisfied though as you nuzzle your face into his chest and cling to his body like you need him to stand.

Because you do. It’s all thanks to him and he feels good.

“I’m so sorry baby.” He murmurs in your ear as he gathers you up in his arms, because he knows it’s not over. He can’t just leave it here, much as he knows in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t be so pushy and cruel. But he just can’t help it.

He carries you over to your guys’ bed, and lays you down more gently on it. His clothes are abandoned on the bedroom floor and as he sheds the remainder of yours off you, he kisses your forehead.

Your hands slide gently up over his arms, and it makes him feel so strong and powerful, and desired.

“You want me?” He whispers softly against your lips.

“Mhm.” You nod your head against the pillow as he positions himself over you.

“Spread them a little wider for me then, baby.” His hand grips your thigh.

You obey and he settles between your legs. You feel his tip brush against your sensitive folds and you jump.

“Shhhhh…” He hushes, his hand coming down to grip your jaw and run his thumb over your cheek. He takes your bottom lip between his in a deep but gentle kiss, and holds you there as he slides himself in.

You gasp into the kiss, twitching and sucking in over-sensitive breaths through your nose as he takes it inch by inch. Your toes curl, and your nails dig into his biceps. When he bottoms out, he finally releases your lips, letting you pant beneath him and catch your breath and your bearings.

“Mm… nn-… Leon.” You breathe, your tongue feeling thick and your head feeling numb. All you can do is breathe heavy and look up at him through pleasure-lidded eyes.

It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos as he gradually starts to move. He leans down to kiss your lips again, to leave them all over your cheeks and jaw.

“Tell me how you want it.” He rumbles against your skin.

“I don’t—“ Your head lulls back and forth on the pillow as breathing takes precedence over words. “—I don’t care. Jus’… it jus’ feels so good.”

God, he could explode right now. You feel him twitch inside you when you give him free rein to do what he needs to do.

His hips speed up a few notches. Skin slaps against skin as he pushes your legs open wider to an intense moan from you. Then he increases the harshness of his thrusts, slamming into you until he feels like it’s a rhythm that matches his frustration with every bit of himself that’s afraid of another man taking you away from him.

He nips your kiss swollen lip.

“You’re my baby.” He breathes.

“Your baby.” You echo, eyes as starry as your brain feels. Not a thought in your head except how he feels inside you.

“Mhm. Fuck— yes you are, aren’t you? My good girl.”

“Your good girl.” Your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “For nobody else.”

The tightness in his chest soothes a little bit, the tension he’d been carrying pushing out through his lungs. He watches as you succumb a second time, crying out his name as you shake underneath him and cling to him like he’s your anchor.

He doesn’t even mind the scratch marks. God knows, he loves them.

A semblance of peace washes over him, and he almost doesn’t even care about the release when it washes over him too, a moment later.

He got the release he was looking for.

#leon kennedy #help me he’s so ugh #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 leon #smut #MDNI #writing #fanfiction

626 notes · View notes

l4ndoflove · 3 months ago

Text

simp...ly lovely

feat. max verstappen

lyrics preview you: a worldwide renowned singer. max: a four-time f1 world champion... and apparently your biggest fan?

maddie corny title, corny faceclaim, definitely corny concept, but i had SO MUCH fun writing it (if you want more smaus, send in your ideas!)

with @.lalalalisa_m

ynofficial

❤️ 3.8M 💬 18.2K

liked by tatemcrae, oliviarodrigo, maxverstappen1 and others

ynofficial singapore was UNREAL tonight. thanks to every single one of you for making it possible, i love u all <3 (still can't believe this was the last show tbh, miss u already)

asia tour over for now, see you guys soon xx

comments

tatemcrae ATE

ynofficial you can't spell ate without tate

❤️ by tatemcrae

user1 MOTHERS

user2 their friendship is my roman empire

user3 collab when???

user4 yn x t8 would be the end of me

oliviarodrigo prettiest girl everrrrr 💞

ynofficial back at you liv 💞💞💞

user5 AWWW

spotify our favorite pop princesses 💕

❤️ by ynofficial and oliviarodrigo

user6 prettiest besties alive fr

user7 the matching heart emojis 🥹

user8 people need a ynolivia tour ASAP

user9 i am people people is me

user10 YES PLEASE 💳💥💳💥💳💥

user11 the duality of woman

user12 i swear like how is that the same person

user13 good girl 🫦 vs good girl 😚

user14 LITERALLY

user15 if girlhood is a spectrum was a person:

user16 "miss you already" JUST ADD NEW DATES???

ynofficial working on it 🫶

user16 oh

user17 LMAO IT ACTUALLY WORKED

user18 @.user16 the hero we deserved 👏

user19 wait so new dates actually confirmed!?

user20 omg chill she didn't say anything yet

user21 BODY. IS. TEA.

user22 outfit too 🙂‍↕️

user23 don't forget the makeup!

user24 am i the only confused f1 fan here or

user25 NO BECAUSE SAME

user26 so we're all seeing max in the likes right

user27 apparently

user28 max verstappen being part of the yn fandom was not on my 2025 bingo card

user29 are we sure he didn't like this by accident 😭

user30 that sounds like something he would do yes

user31 i hate to break it to you but he's been at it for the past three weeks

user32 guys he liked ALL her tour posts

user33 SIMPly lovely huh?

user34 LOL BYE

user35 plot twist is plot twisting

f1 and ynofficial

❤️ 3.2M 💬 38.9K

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

f1 coming soon... @.ynofficial 🎤✨️

05.04.25 | 21:00 utc

#japanesegp

comments

user36 who is this and why is she on my fyp

user37 what about focusing on the race instead? just a thought

user38 and the earth kept spinning

user39 world before: 🌍 world after: 🌍

user40 no one asked 😍

user41 YN STANS HOW ARE WE FEELING ABOUT THIS

user42 f1 fan here, i have no idea who she is and i couldn't care less

user43 okay?

user44 this is exactly why f1 "fans" scare me

user45 anyways I'M SO EXCITED AAAHH

user46 me too! i missed her tour but i bought tickets to the race so now i get both... 🫠

user47 ugh you're so luckyyyyy

user48 f1 x yn fans living their best life rn

user49 OH THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GOOD

user50 face card never declines 🛐

user51 🔥🔥🔥

user52 mommy 🥵

user53 if this is an april fools' joke it's not funny

user54 PLS IT HAS TO BE REAL

user55 🕯manifesting hard🕯

user56 may our prayers be answered 🙏

user57 🍀🍀🍀

user58 you're not normal

user59 why is everyone in the comments so mad 💀

user60 fr like get a life

user61 forget everything the dutchman did it again

user62 he's so real for that

user63 DUDUDUDU HE'S DOWN BADDD

user64 the real question now is can suzuka handle these two goats

f1 guess we'll see 😉

user65 SCREAMING

ynofficial

❤️ 6.8M 💬 40.4K

liked by f1, maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo and others

ynofficial quali now, sound check later 🥂🏁

comments

oliviarodrigo babe you're GLOWING

ynofficial it's the suzuka weather ☀️

f1 keep an eye out for our next pole sitter 👀

ynofficial on it 🫡

❤️ by maxverstappen1

user66 *insert leonardo dicaprio gif here*

user67 BRO THOUGHT WE WOULDN'T NOTICE

user68 he's so confident he'll get pole 😭

user69 he will just for her 🗣🗣🗣

user70 stay delulu folks ✊️😔

ynofficial i believe in him 🙃

user71 WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM

user72 i'm already way too invested in their dynamic

user73 new ship to obsess over unlocked

user74 now my life is complete again 😌

user75 do you people really have nothing better to do in your free time?

user76 as a ferrari fan the only other available option is depression so no 🥰

user77 @.user75 we're good thanks 👍

user78 why is she here again?

user79 let her breathe ffs

user80 still genuinely don't understand where all the hate came from

user81 maybe it's because she has nothing to do with f1?

user82 she's not the first celebrity they've invited tho???

user83 i fear this argument is going nowhere

user84 neither is our girl but y'all aren't ready for that conversation

user85 PERIOD

f1gossippofficial

❤️ 62.8 K 💬 23.3K

f1gossippofficial max verstappen was seen attending yn's concert last night in suzuka!

comments

user86 you don't say

user87 *20 missed calls from lando*

user88 are we supposed to be surprised?

user89 yeah like any other driver so what

user90 who cares

user91 celebrating his pole position in style i see

user92 like a winner 🙂‍↕️

user93 he is a man of culture after all

user94 it's giving supportive boyfriend

user95 they're not even together

user96 exactly

user97 a girl can dream 🤷‍♀️

user98 okay but that clip of him singing along was genuinely so funny

user99 man knew the lyrics word by word

user100 where can i find it???

user101 it was on lando's stories i think(?)

user102 bro woke up and decided to expose max's ass

user103 very demure and mindful of him

user104 he did god's work 🙏

user105 lando is actually maxyn's number 1 supporter and no one can change my mind

user106 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YN IN THE FIRST PIC HELLO ⁉️⁉️⁉️

user107 how do you know it's her 💀

user108 i mean i don't think he would look at lando like that

user109 maybe charles was on stage

user110 her smile omg 🥹

user111 she was congratulating max btw

user112 JAIL

user113 STOP SHE WAS BLUSHING SO HARD HAHAHA

user114 they're in love your honor

user115 i'm so not normal about them

redbullracing

❤️ 7.6M 💬 42.3K

liked by ynofficial, maxverstappen1, lando and others

redbullracing it was simply lovely meeting you @.ynofficial ❤️

comments

user116 PARENTS

user117 OMG ADMIN SHIPS IT TOO

user118 wasn’t this a lestappen fanpage

user119 💔

user120 charles crying in the corner because he's not max's main love interest anymore

redbullracing dw he's still our favorite 😉

user121 try not to ship two of the most problematic drivers on the grid: level impossible

user122 no one fangirls over them like red bull

user123 MAX LOOKS SO PROUD I CAN'T

user124 i bet the little fanboy in him was screaming

user125 max "i'm just happy to be here" verstappen

user126 they're so barbie and ken coded idc what anyone says

user127 wait i can actually see that

user128 idk about her outfit...

user129 and she doesn't know about you, problem solved 😘

user130 get her away from the paddock

user131 what did she ever do to you 😭

user132 i say let 👏 the 👏 woman 👏 breathe 👏

user133 amen 🙌

user134 SHE WAS THE ONE WAVING THE FLAG I'M UNWELL

user135 i'm gonna pretend this means she helped him win (i'm delusional)

maxverstappen1 she did

maxverstappen1 she was my lucky charm

user136 AGAIN!?

user137 i'm ending it all

user138 he's so awkward it's painful

user139 STOP DELETING THE COMMENTS AND JUST ASK HER OUT ALREADY

user140 why do i feel like he could really use some rizz classes from lando

❤️ by lando

lando @.maxverstappen1 told ya

maxverstappenfanclub

❤️ 75.5K 💬 7,968

maxverstappenfanclub unseen photos of max and yn in suzuka 🤩🇯🇵

comments

user141 how dare instagram hide this from me for a whole minute

user142 HOW DARE RED BULL HIDE THIS FROM US IN GENERAL

user143 the disrespect 😨

user144 they wanted to keep all the wholesomeness to themselves

user145 selfish pricks

user146 if you heard someone screaming that was me

user147 if you heard someone screaming no you didn't. i passed out

user148 only acceptable reaction

user149 do they know it's legal to talk about their feelings instead of doing whatever the fuck this is

user150 BLUSHING GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET

user151 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user152 there are two types of people:

user153 both valid af

user154 THE FIRST ONE IS THE REASON I STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE

user155 the eyes chico, they never lie

user156 the physical need to have someone looking at me like that

user157 so true

user158 oh he's GONE gone

user159 everyone talking about max BUT WHAT ABOUT YN

user160 ❗️❗️❗️

user161 YES THANK YOU

user162 you have no idea how much this means to me

user163 HER SMILE WHEN SHE SAW HIS CARHQYQKCZGUD

user164 and the little happy dance MY HEART

user165 they're disgusting (i love them sm)

f1wags._

❤️ 88.8K 💬 11.5K

f1wags._ ⁉️NEW WAG ALERT⁉️ @.maxverstappen1 and @.ynofficial spotted together after their collab shoot in suzuka!

comments

user166 hey so this is actually insane 😃

user167 I JUST OPENED INSTAGRAM WTF IS THIS

user168 WE WON

user169 SUCK IT HATERS

user170 calm tf down it doesn't mean anything

user171 suuure

user172 they say denial is a river in egypt

user173 just accept the fact that we were right all along and move on 😝

user174 MAXYN NATION RISE

user175 our moment has finally arrived

user176 i have no idea how we got here but i'm definitely not complaining

user177 we're being fed with this content

user178 I DIED DEAD

user179 when why and how did this happen

user180 i love how it goes from normal shooting to flirting to full-on tits out

user181 HAND PLACEMENT

user182 i see what you did there maximilian

user183 i'm 99.9% sure he smacked her ass one second after that picture was taken

maxverstappen1 why the 0.1%?

user184 FREAKSTAPPEN STRIKES ONCE AGAIN

user185 i can't believe he actually wrote that omg

user186 BOOM SHAKALAKA

user187 max or yn?

user188 BOAF

user189 I NEED A BIG BOY GIVE ME A BIG BOYYYYY 😫❣️

user190 great now kiss

ynofficial

❤️ 11M 💬 86.3K

liked by maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo, tatemcrae and others

ynofficial fast cars, faster hearts 🫶

comments

maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️❤️

❤️ by ynofficial

oliviarodrigo can't believe i really lost you to a m*n 🤢

tatemcrae he doesn't deserve you babe

ynofficial don't be mean🧍‍♀️

tatemcrae not mean. just honest

oliviarodrigo yeah no i'm sticking to mean

user191 nothing will ever top this day

user192 THIS IS A HISTORICAL MOMENT

user193 I FUCKING KNEW IT

user194 canon event

user195 it was bound to happen at one point

user196 not the couple we deserved but the one we needed

user197 YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THINGS LIKE THIS ON A RANDOM SATURDAY

user198 the ship has sailed i repeat the ship has sailed

user199 words cannot describe how i'm feeling right now

user200 i've been jumping around my room for the past five minutes

redbullracing happy for you 🥰 (charles... not so much)

user201 admin is still stuck on lestappen and so am i

user202 maxyn defender till the day i die but lestappen is THE otp

user203 lando's lessons actually paid off lol

lando you had doubts?

user203 no sir 🫡

user204 lando yesrizz

❤️ by lando

user205 HOLY SHIT THIS WAS BETTER THAN READING A FANFIC

1K notes · View notes

lifeasadorkwithnolife · 5 months ago

Text

Protect You

Word Count: 3200

Azriel has always gone out of his way to keep Y/N out of harms way, but Rhys sends her on a mission anyway.

-------

Azriel and you weren’t exactly on the best of terms, despite the fact that you had been a part of the inner circle for centuries- he rarely spoke to you. At first it really hurt your feelings, was it something you did? But after the years passed you learned that sometimes you can’t change a male’s opinion, no matter how many times you tried.

It was just another normal day at the house, you and Nessa were occupying chairs across from each other, reading in silence. Although your primary job was writing down Prythian’s true history, you still loved the library and reading all the books the house had to offer. You were never really adept for the front lines, no matter how much training Rhys put you through.

The library was aglow from the setting sun from the large windows, and you felt the warmth on your face as you read. You could honestly stay like this forever. You and Nessa had a unique friendship- despite her forceful resistance to joining the inner circle and stubbornness to admit that sometimes she was wrong, you two had gotten along well.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever find a male like the ones we read about.” Nessa sighs, dropping the book in her lap. “They are just so…. In tune to their lovers’ feelings- I’ve personally never witnessed that before.”

“I’m sure there are some males like that.” You smiled, meeting her dark eyes. The thought of Cassian crossed your mind, and the love for her that he wore openly on his shoulder. “At least you have a few centuries to find it now.”

“Yes, thank the cauldron.” Nessa rolled her eyes, pulling her book back up to eye level. After a few moments, she lowered it to meet your eyes. “Have you talked to the shadow singer lately?”

Your eyebrows rose, and you set down your book, sitting up a bit. “You know me and Azriel don’t talk- what do you mean?”

You were right- you and Azriel did not talk, if anything, he actively avoided talking to you at every opportunity. “I just feel at times- that you two might be a good couple, but I could be wrong.”

“I promise you- you’re wrong. Azriel is the last person I could ever imagine being with.” You laughed, picking up your book. “I don’t believe he even has feelings- much less for me. But speaking of males- what about you and Cassian, have you ever thought about it?”

“I’ve definitely thought about Cassian, but I am not sharing those thoughts with you.” Nessa laughed, throwing a pillow towards you. “He’s insufferable, but I can’t help who I’m attracted to-“

“Y/N, the high lord has requested you.” You heard a deep voice behind you and nearly jumped out of your chair. Azriel was standing in the doorway, shadows slowly snaking up his arms. You had never seen him in this light, his skin was almost glowing, he was breathtaking. You froze in place, admiring the swirls of tattoos up his arms and leading into places that you wish you could see. Caldron, why couldn’t you control yourself. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes Az I heard you. Sorry, I’ll be right there.” You sighed, moving the blanket and getting up to slowly stretch. You had anticipated spending the whole day reading, so your outfit wasn’t exactly…. appropriate. You reached up to stretch, feeling the fabric of your shirt lift up past your navel. You heard the loud footsteps of the male walking away, and you sat back down.

“You are down so bad for him, Y/n.” Nessa muttered, “I don’t know who you’re lying to, but it’s definitely not me. You should have seen the way that male looked at you just now...like he's starving."

“I’m not lying to anyone- and I’ll be back as soon as I find out what our ‘high lord’ requests of me.” You laugh, throwing her pillow back and placing your bookmark. "And there is no way he looked at me like that, you've been reading too many of those books."

------------------------------------------------------------

“Would you feel comfortable going to the Spring Court?” Rhysand asks, tapping his finger against his chin as he stares at the excessively large map on the table. “I feel like it would really be helpful to get a sense of the…attitudes of the population there. I don’t feel like our high lord of the spring court is doing a great job with moral.”

“Of course, anything you need.” You replied, “When do you need me to go?”

“I was thinking today, if possible.” Rhys looked at you, “if that’s okay with you.”

You nodded, looking at the map. “It should only be a couple days- but you’re well known here. You should probably wear a disguise and make this as discreet as possible. The last thing I need is you getting caught.”

“I can handle that,” You smiled at Rhys, you two had been through so much over the years. When he went under the mountain, you were sure that you were going to lose your mind, Azriel and Cassian had lost theirs. “I promised you when you came back- I will do anything it takes to keep you here and keep Velaris safe.”

Rhys nods, then his head perks up. “Go pack your things.” You nodded, turning and leaving the room. After a quick walk down the hall, you remembered the book that you had left sitting on the desk. You quickly turned to grab it, but as you placed your hand on Rhysand’s door handle you heard the hush voices of Rhysand and Azriel.

“You cannot send her out there.” Azriel growled, his voice low. “We have spies for this very reason.”

“Y/N will be just fine Azriel, she’s a big girl and can handle herself.” Rhysand chuckled; you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“She’s going to get herself hurt out there, just let me handle it.” Azriel insisted, but Rhys didn’t reply. “it’s going to drive me crazy out, you know that right? Knowing that she’s out there in the spring court, and I’m stuck here and can’t do a thing about it? She’ll ruin everything!”

You shook your head, ire filling your veins. How dare he? You rarely, if ever, go on missions. Sure, you weren’t as strong as Cassian or Azriel, and sure, you weren’t as experienced at combat or using your powers as them, but you were still useful- especially at reading emotions. You hesitated, removing your hand from the handle, torn between throwing open the door and ripping Azriel a new one, or going back to your room to cry.

The decision was made for you when the door was opened, and Azriels dark eyes bore into yours. “Eavesdropping now?”

“Fuck you.” You spat, looking between him and Rhysand. “I know that you think I’m weak- that I’m incompetent, but I can assure you I’m not. I can handle myself just fine.”

“That’s not what I’m saying Y/N,” Azriel tried to interrupt, but you held up your hand.

“I’m going, and I’m not going to ruin anything okay? I will die before I ever let Tamlin get his hands on me or give up anything about this court. Despite the fact that you don’t seem to think I can handle myself.” He went to speak again, and you stopped him, “I’m packing my things, I just came back to grab this.” You stormed past him, grabbing your book off the desk.

An emotion quickly crossed Azriel’s face, which he quickly concealed. “You’re right- I don’t believe you can handle it. Just stay here in that little library with Nessa and I’ll get this handled. The first time danger comes your way- you won’t be able to handle it. Let me handle it.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m glad I know how you truly feel Azriel, but I don’t care.” You walked away, storming down the hall, a middle finger pointing back at him.

--------------------------------------------------

The spring court was… and absolute disaster. The territory was chaos, fae ran rampant and there seemed to be no order- even Tamlin’s guard was nowhere to be found. You sat in the attic of one of the only buildings that wasn’t burnt down and wrote in a journal that you would be bringing back to Rhysand- hopefully all the details would help.

“Whos’ up there?” A gruff voice shouted, and you heard a loud bang as the floor from under you collapsed. You fell, crashing to the lower floor in a pile of hay. The breath left your lungs in a whoosh, and the pain from the fall echoed across your back. “Who are you? Why are you hiding?”

You couldn’t respond, still waiting for the breath in your lungs to return. “Who are you?” The man shouted, sending a kick towards your stomach. You rolled over, coughing up whatever air was left. A gasp escaped your mouth as you tried to breathe in whatever your lungs would allow.

The notebook was ripped from your hands, and the male started to read. You looked up at him through the haze of dust that floated around you due to the ceiling falling in, and although you could not read his facial expressions super clearly- you understood that you were screwed. You tried to quickly get up to make a run for it, but after one step you found that your ankle was severely bent in the wrong direction. The pain shot up your leg and you winced.

“Well well well…” The man stated, “I’m sure my high lord would love to see you, the friend of the high lord who stole his bride.”

You shook your head, but he pulled you up, and another male took your other arm. They tugged you out of the building, into the open clearing outside. Fae froze in their tracks, either holding baskets of vegetables, linens, or whatever else could be traded, they all froze to stare at you.

You tried to remember whatever moves Cassian had showed you, but with a bad ankle, even if you could get out of this hold, there would be nowhere to go. You couldn’t give up any information, that was just not an option. The words you had told Azriel only a few days before came back to you- you would rather end your life, than give away any information about the night court.

You knocked your head back, feeling the pang as your head hit the man in the lower jaw. His grip loosened ever so slightly, and you were able to turn and throw a punch at the first man, right in the eye. You felt the warmth around your hand and knew that you had severely injured him, possibly puncturing his eye. You tried to run, but your ankle wouldn’t allow it and you fell to the ground. The male came running back towards you, his eye shut and already swelling.

You took the knife out of your sack, knowing what you had to do, there was no way that you would win this fight. You held the knife out, aiming it towards your chest, when a gust of dark wind picked it up and tossed it aside.

One minute the men were coming towards you, the next they were backing away, hands in the air as they nearly tripped over themselves. You felt the air change around you, a familiar scent entering your nose, and you knew who it was- it was Azriel.

Two knives flew towards the men, entering each of their chest with no issue. You sighed, leaning back into the ground and placing your hands over your face, not being able to help the tears filing your eyes. You felt two strong hands pick you up, and start walking you towards the forest.

“Did Rhys send you out here?” You sniffled, not being able to help it. “Did he assume I couldn’t do it?”

“No, of course not.” Azriel replied, looking down at you, an expression you didn’t recognize on his face. “Please- don’t cry.”

“Don’t tell me what to.” You mumbled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “Just take me home- please.”

Azriel nodded, winnowing you both back to the winter house.

--------------------------------------------------

Your ankle was healed, but you refused to leave your room. You told Nessa you just didn’t feel well, but it was the shame in the pit of your stomach that you had afraid to leave. Rhys sent you on a secret mission, once of the most basic missions he could have asked, and you still fucked it up. Azriel was right.

A knock sounded on the door, and you grumbled, turning over in bed. “Go away.” You mumbled, but the door opened anyways. “Nessa, please I’m not in the mood.”

The door shut, and you turned to see… Azriel standing in the doorway. He had a book in one hand and a glass in the other, filled with water. “Are you here to rub it in? To tell me you were right?” You turned back over, slumping in bed.

You felt the end of the bed sink as he sat, and placed the book and water on your nightstand, the book that you were reading when Rhys sent you off. “Y/n- I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You whispered, staring at the setting sun outside the window. “You have had literal centuries to talk to me, but you haven’t, what’s changed?”

“I came to say I’m sorry.” Azriel sighed, “I’m not very good at admitting that I’m wrong, but it’s something I’m working on.”

“No Azriel, you weren’t wrong.” Tears stung your eyes again, and you sat up to face him. “You’re never wrong, and that’s the problem. You said I couldn’t handle it, you said I would ruin everything, and I did.”

“No, you didn’t.” Azriel grabbed your hand, squeezing it. You froze, you had always wanted to feel him like this, always wanted to grab his hand, but had always been too scared- he would have never had welcomed it. “I need to be honest with you, and I’m going to say this once. You can reject me or push me away and I will never ask again- but please just hear me out now.”

“Fine.” You whispered, wiping the tear from your eye. He stared earnestly at you, his eyes open and unguarded for the first time. He shook his head, looking away. “Just tell me.”

“I can’t tell you when you’re crying- I can’t stand it.” He released your hand, standing up and turning towards the window, his back to you. “Y/N, I never believed you couldn’t handle it, I never believed that you would fail- but I just could not stand the possibility that it was a possibility.”

“What are you talking about Azriel?” You asked, but he refused to turn around.

“The reason Rhys doesn’t send you on missions, the reason he doesn’t put you in danger, is because he owes me one.” Azriel said, his hands folding behind his back. “Knowing that you are in danger, knowing that you are somewhere I can’t protect you- I can’t get anything done, I can’t be productive, and my shadows don’t agree with it either. It literally drives me fucking crazy Y/N.

He turns to you, his eyes wide open, almost crazed. You could recognize his expression now, it was fear. “The whole time you were there, I watched those men watch you. It wasn’t any fault of yours, it was just pure luck. You did so well.”

“Wait- you were there? The whole time?” You shouted, ripping off the covers and revealing your pajamas. “Wow- you must really not have trusted me, you just assumed I would fuck it up.”

“Are you not listening to what I’m saying?” Azriel shouted, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “I cannot live knowing that you are in danger! Rhysand knew full well that I would not be able to sit here idly by as you risked your life out there, without me there to protect you in case things went wrong. Y/N, I can not live without you, you must see that.”

The bed groaned under your weight as you sat back down, unsure of the words. “Y/N, please. I told you I would tell you once. I cannot ever- ever- put you in a situation where you are unsafe. If it were up to me, you would be in this fucking house all day reading your books, and I would work twice as hard just so you wouldn’t have to.”

“I know its unreasonable, I know it’s crazy, but some instinctual part of me just can’t let you put your life at risk.” He whispered, moving to the floor and kneeling, grabbing your hands. “Your work here is important, just as important as fighting on the front lines. Please- for me, just stay here.”

“Why do you feel this way Azriel?” You asked, pulling your hands from his. “no offense- but you have spent the last 2 centuries avoiding me at every opportunity. I have tried to be friends, I have bought you books I thought you might like- hell, I still even go to that stupid bakery and buy you a cake on your birthday every year- but you still don’t talk to me. And now you come around and ask me to keep myself out of danger? I need a good reason Azriel.”

“I love you, Y/n.” Azriel shouts back, grabbing your hands back. “From the day I met you, I have loved you. I love you when I watch you read your books, I love you when you laugh with everyone BUT me, I love you when you stare at the night sky. And how was I supposed to tell you when you’ve made it so painfully obvious you could never love me?”

Azriel stopped, clearing his throat and backing up. “But now I understand, you don’t feel the same. Just please keep yourself safe- if not for my sake, then yours.”

“Azriel- stop, please.” You whispered, more tears coming to your eyes. “I…I have always hated when you left too.” You looked at him, and he turned to look back at you. “I have looked at other males and found myself comparing them to you- every single time. It hurt me so much when I overhead what you and Rhys said about me. I’ve always known that I’m not as strong as you or Mor, but hearing my worst fears confirmed-‘

“I didn’t mean what I said.” Azriel interrupted, giving you a small smile. “I was trying to find any reason for you not to go- or at least send me with you. You can handle yourself- but I can’t handle myself while you do. I heard what you said about me and you never working out, I was angry about that and angry at him, I just wasn’t in control of my emotions.”

“Please don’t accept any more missions from that asshole.” Azriel grew serious, his eyes darkening with anger. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly, nodding. “I know you feel like you can’t say no, but just tell him to fuck off.”

You laughed, choking on the tears. “I’m not going to tell him that Az.” You whispered, you went to touch his face, then hesitated a couple inches away. He moved his face towards your hand, and you cupped his cheek. His stubble grazing your palm, and butterflies filling your chest. “You…really feel that way?”

“I swear it to you.” Azriel, covered your hand in his. “If you let me, I will spend every day protecting you for the rest of my life.”

You nodded, and you felt the relief in the breath he exhaled. “I love you too Azriel.”

#azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

600 notes · View notes

shroomyv · 3 months ago

Text

ᢉ𐭩-GOOD BOY(‘S) [3]

Pairing: mark grayson x sinister mark x Mohawk mark x viltrumite mark x F!reader (we are so back)

Synopsis: one mark is fun…but 4, that’s a whole new level. After finishing your little (big) session with them, you knew you couldn’t just leave them in that cell to rot…you weren’t usually on the side of stealing but…you just had to take them home with you. Now since you wanted to make this choice off the top of your head—you had to make this fucking work. Good luck~

Warning: continuation story/3rd part (if u don’t read the first two it won’t make sense at all.) , fingers in mouth, mention of saliva, reader dominationnnn (your in charge!), corny dialogue. (Final warning: this story literally will not make sense unless u read pt 1 and 2, this story picks off righttt where pt 2 ends)

W.C: 2.3k

A/N: so…the first 2 parts absolutely blew tf up and there are ppl still begging for more so…HERES MORE AYYEEE. Ok ok, so this part is a bit slow…it’s a bit slow because it’s laying out the ground work for how home life with the marks will work. It’s laying out the pavement…trust the process trust trust…I hope you enjoy this part js as much as the others and if not it’s ok! To each their own. Also also some of the inspiration for this part is from @martinys-world (promised to credit them and they were a part of this series even being able to continue from js a few comments. I also saw Mickey 17 today and that most definitely helped inspire this story more 😭) ANYWAY thanks for all the support so mother fricken much. Yapping over enough the story.

“What…babe…” your mark huffed out trying to shake you a little bit awake to get an answer out of you. He got your eyes open for a few seconds—you were back awake but ready to go back out in an instant. So he asked again.

“Hey…hey babe? What do you mean by “all of us are coming home with you?” Your mark asked again leaning in closer so he could hear everything you had to say. The other marks were still laid out in the pile with you holding parts of your body, cuddling at you since they didn’t wanna let you go.

“Just…just get us all home—I’ll explain there. Just do it, Mark. Cameras are still frozen for now…” you said in a low tone before blacking out once again. You were exhausted—sure, it was fucking worth it but it definitely took the fucking wind out of you. Your mark thought you were absolutely fucking nuts. What would Cecil say, how would they even get out of the room without being noticed, where would they even stay? Even though all these fucking good questions flew through his mind…he couldn’t say no…he just couldn’t refuse you. So, like you asked him to, he got you all home…

In and out of consciousness as you heard little bits and pieces of what each mark had to say. Piecing together their voices as best as you could as you were trying to wake yourself up.

Mohawk Mark was the first to have something to say “She was stupid to let us go”

“Hey! Let her regret it and I’ll send your ass right back to that jail cell. I’ll make up a lie—say you got out or something. Don’t make me regret it.” Your mark scoffed out at him before they started bickering. Their bickering stirred you awake as your eyes started to open.

You knew this place…you were at home… Mark must’ve taken you home and had them come to.

“Mmm…stop arguing…” you mumbled out rubbing at your head. Their heads twisted to you almost instantly as it honestly made you wake yourself up a bit more. You were laid down on the couch watching their eyes on you like hawks.

“Finally awake…did we fuck you too hard” sinister mark said with a snicker before your mark hit him in the head with a magazine.

“Cut it out she just woke up and you’re already starting.” Your mark snarled out as the two began back and forth with each other again. The argument grew louder and louder until the two began tussling on the floor like they were some wild ass animals. It was honestly starting to piss you off. You wanted to get up—shout, scream, get some control back to keep them in check. However, your legs were so fucking sore…you felt weak.

You still had to fucking do something…so as best as you could you lifted yourself off the couch—standing over the both of them as they tussled.

“Mark…other mark…” you said with a sternness in your voice as they just kept going. You reached down grabbing the back of both of their necks—pressing your finger into it as they choked up for a second. You were up, you were mad, and you were clearly about to put them in their place for the 2nd time.

“You two are bickering over absolutely nothing…nothing at all! You’re basically just doing it for the fucking fun of it” you snarled out at them rubbing your finger into their neck more—not to hurt them…but to get them to melt into your clutch again. You kept rubbing at their neck, finger moving deeper before lifting and circling again.

“B..baby…I’m sorry..” your mark cooed out as he practically already gave up—didn’t take much for you to calm him down and correct his behavior. You were glad about that but sinister mark still gave you a challenge…you liked challenges though.

Sinister Mark bit onto his lip not trying to give you the pleasure of hearing another reaction from him. You just smiled at his naivety—he was an absolute fucking fool to think you would give up. You released your mark as your other hand went to Sinister Mark's face. You continued to massage his neck as best as you could before your fingers went to his mouth.

“Open.” You demanded softly as he looked to the wall for a second trying to look at anything but you. You got closer to his level—whispering in his ear softly.

“open.” He finally opened his mouth as your fingers slowly slid into it. Your other hand went from his neck to his face rubbing it softly as you spoke to him passionately.

“Good boy…”

Even though you were weak in the legs—your mind was still strong. You knew how to get your mark in check and clearly, the same methods worked on these variants too. You just had to push harder on them. And you’d do exactly that.

“Now…let’s get this situated shall we?” You turn to the other marks as you lift away from sinister mark pulling your fingers out of his mouth. You weren’t just gonna grab a tissue like a normal person—you rubbed his saliva on his face letting him deal with that himself. He just sat in silence being put in his place.

It was time for you to figure out where the fuck you’d go with this with the rest of them. They were either supposed to rot in jail until they were able to be sent back to their home dimension or be killed and executed at the thought of any escape.

Now they sat in your fucking living room…sitting quietly as they waited for you to figure something out.

One mark was easy…you loved your boyfriend to death. He is special and perfect, you wouldn’t change him for the world. You had never even thought of 2 marks, let alone 4. Now you had 4, all with different mindsets and personalities that you had to figure out how to deal with and how to keep them in check.

Anyone else would’ve quit in a fucking heartbeat—they wouldn’t even have visited the cell of these fucking murderers. You, however, you were fucking insane…you were up for any challenge. Any at fucking all.

The more the merrier in your eyes—a big plus to the situation was that they were all basically your fucking boyfriend. They were all versions of your precious mark. You couldn’t think of being with anyone other than him…however…you could absolutely get with the idea of getting with more than one of him, it was still him—your perfect mark.

“Mark…my mark, cmere please.” You said calling him over to you as he stood by you waiting for what you needed.

You grabbed his face—softly smushing it in your hand. He was a bit surprised but used to it nevertheless.

“Alright…listen up. All of you.” You said with a sternness in your voice—even though you were so fucking excited you were gonna pop. 4 versions of your fucking boyfriend in your house…4. You’d be satisfied for life.

“See this one right here?” You used your mark as an example shaking his face softly before pulling his face down a bit. You wanted him to go down more and he eventually realized as he sunk himself. He stood on his knees, face right by your waist as your hand stayed on his face—smushing it closer to your waist and rubbing it like he was being rewarded.

“This one is obedient…he acts right, usually does what I say the first time without questioning it, I could go on and on.” You spoke to the marks trying to show them how well-behaved yours was. You had to give them a rundown before they stayed at your home so you kept going.

“You all don’t leave this house until I figure out what to do with you. Only my mark can leave this house because he’s the one of this universe…you all are fugitives as well. Leave this house and we will know—fuck up something and I promise you we will know. As of right now, you are a guest, I'd like to let you keep staying here forever but you have to prove yourself to me as well. Besides…the more the merrier and it’s what, 4 of you and 1 of me. Call me crazy but I think there’s enough for me to go around.” You said with a sternness in your voice trying to get a message across. If they fucked up even once—you’d find a way to lie your ass off and ship them back to Cecil in that cold ass cell.

They were silent…you understood they were taking in what you said but that wasn’t gonna cut it—you needed to know they understood. You let go of your marks face walking to Viltrumite mark.

“Do you understand?” You asked in a gentle tone as you rubbed his face. He leaned into your hand melting like butter almost instantly. God—he couldn’t leave this…he couldn’t go back to that old dirty ass cell and not have you there. Any other day he’d say fuck off or fuck you…but he needed you…he’d just have to put his murderous spree aside for a bit…till he got back home to his universe of course.

“Yes maam…” he said in a low tone—looking away bashfully. You let go of his face walking to the next mark…Mohawk mark.

“Well, do you understand?” You asked in a bit of a more strict tone knowing how he was. You rubbed his face softly pinching at his cheek here and there and your other hand rubbed at his Mohawk…he adored your touch. He liked to pick and fuck with you…so you’d have to be harder on him. He was annoyed he couldn’t wreak havoc…but you’d probably keep him satisfied enough to where he’d forget he even needed to do that

“Hmm…sure why not, lady.” He said with a smirk coming to terms with the agreement. He didn’t have shit else to do unless it was going home.

3 down, 1 more to go. You stood in front of sinister mark—your hand reaching down to his face to lift his chin. You had to make sure you got through to this one…you know he’d reek chaos in a heartbeat.

“So…do you understand?” You waited patiently for his answer—moving your other hand to his face while you waited. You couldn’t get enough of touching their faces. Each one felt different, each one was special in their own fucking way. Your hand snaked to his mouth as the other one still held his chin up to look at you. Your thumb popped into his mouth as he nibbled on it softly before finally giving you an answer.

“Yes…yes maam…” he choked out before you walked away from him. You finally had all the answers you needed from them before you walked down the hallway of your house. They all say confused in the living room wondering where you were going before you spoke.

“Well? Hurry the hell up, don’t know about you guys but I’m still fucking exhausted…let’s figure out these sleeping arrangements and go to fucking bed!” You slapped your thigh—basically calling for them to come here as if they were puppies. They reminded you of them anyway…

They rushed down the hallway—following behind you as you went to the bedroom. You had them sit on the bed while you took a shower as they started up conversation with each other.

“Ok so…do we get to take those showers with her? Have you ever taken one with her?” Viltrumite Mark asked for your mark as he honestly wanted to know and take one with you.

“No you don’t get to take showers with her every time…and yes I’ve taken plenty with her…” he said back in an exhausted voice. He was still taking in everything but seemed ok with the arrangement you were making.

Mohawk Mark was the next to ask a question about the showers, except he was a little more personal.

“Did you two ever like…y’know…fuck in there.” He said with a grin across his face. Your mark just rolled his eyes but nodded yes…it was the honest truth.

You had finally finished your shower—coming out in a t-shirt and underwear as you heard them speak.

“What you boys talking about?”

They didn’t answer—they were just watching you once again like a hawk. It was weird and you liked it. It was hard for you to tell them apart besides personality and Mohawk mark of course…so…you grabbed a marker going one at a time.

“This is my mark…” you said softly before writing initials on his back. He jolted up a bit not expecting it but knew why you had to do it.

“This is sinister mark…this is viltrumite mark…and your Mohawk mark but there’s no need to put initials on you…”

You said before rubbing his Mohawk making it as messy as you could. You finally leaped into bed as they followed right after you—crawling up to you to try and be the one to cuddle you.

You were in fucking heaven as they wrapped their arms around you like snakes—holding you tightly as they wanted to be the one to snuggle with you or kiss you.

You kissed every one of them as best as you could…some sloppy…some gentle and sweet…you looked at all of them speaking one final time before going to rest with them.

“This is just the beginning…I’ve got plans for you…all of you. I do however expect to be woken up with all of you cleaned and showered…and maybe food ready…”

Your final demands for the day were made. You could finally melt into bed with these marks…your marks…

(A/n: Ahem ahem, there will most definitely be another fucking part…🥸🤞 tune in…for more submissive mark content…let’s get em pregnant)

#invincible mark grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson #shroomyvfics #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x reader #dividers by adornedwithlight #invincible #mohawk mark x reader #mohawk mark #sinister mark #sinister mark x reader #viltrum mark x reader #viltrum mark

404 notes · View notes

saetoru · 2 years ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,�� you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

7K notes · View notes

tan1shere · 7 months ago

Text

HOW EACH BILLIE ERA IS IN BED

A/n: Hey guys ! Got this idea and thought I'd do what I think billie would be like in bed ! I hope you all enjoy, this is definitely a little different but enjoy it while I work on other things for you MUAH - also thank you for allllll the love on her favorite 💖 there's two other billie series in the works 👀 ANYWAYS ENJOY

! This is starting from when she was 18 ofc and she still had the green then so we will begin w that. - this is just for fun please don't take things too literal this is just how I think she would be. !

Masterlist - each era masterlist

GREEN ROOTS

- I feel like this era she is definitely more on the dominant side (like most of these will be except for one. I'm gunna try my hardest since I don't see her as a sub, you're welcome sub billie enthusiasts.) This was on from silver hair billie and she was a menace. So I feel like that menacingness is still within her.

^how I see it^

◇ I feel like she could either be a rough dom during this time or a soft one there's no in between ! One day she could decide she needs that relief and to consensually take it out on you. Other days she'd just need you in a softer way, comforting sex.

◇ she's very protective of you ESPECIALLY during this time and sex. She always makes sure you feel safe no matter the situation. It's her priority. Even if you are both fully new to things you'd provide that for one another.

◇ you'd sometimes not behave for this era, why ? Because she could easily get wound up. But it wad so hot.

"Are you nuts?" She asks, putting her stuff down. You had just been at some party when this girl was flirting with you. You ofcourse had no interest, but you saw how jealous Billie got. It was cute. So you decided to play with fire. "Oh come on, it was no-" Her hand lands on your jaw. "Don't mess with me. You knew good and well." You giggle, making her furrow her brows. "You're just so jealous huh?" The furrow deepens. "I am not." You up the anti with a smirk. "So, hypothetically if I were to let her do more. Touch me. You wouldn't want that to be you? You would want that? To-" But just like before you were cut off. "Just shut up." She says kissing you. Yeah, she was jealous.

◇ with that said she could be incredibly protective, causing jealousy to come easy. You reassured her countless times she was the only one you'd ever want and need.

"You're mine, got it?" She tells you, the thick strap sliding in and out if you. "All mine. Say it." You let a moan slip. "A-all yours Bills. Promise." Her head dips down, kissing your lips. "Yeah, mine."

Kinks: with this one there isn't that many as you both are starting out. But there is one ! She is obsessed with missionary, being close to you as possible, having you secure in the position.

BLONDE

- now this era I can see her being a switch. This era was definitely both, oxytocin and swarm ?? Yeah. Dom. Not much more to say about that. This era she was also experimenting more with her femininity, so I do see her as potentially being just a bit more subby aswel.

^how I see it^

◇ blonde billie is forever in awe of you, at your disposal. Since she is a switch you'd either get obliterated or turned on by her on her knees for you.

◇ (this era, sub) Billie will always beg, she forever craves you. Her wines and moans, send you mental.

"Please please please. Need more." Her voice high pitched. Her hands grabbing ahold of your thighs as she ate you out. You grip her blonde hair, pulling her back but she whines. "Noooo." You giggle. "Naww but why not." She pouts at you, you give into the look. Releasing her head as she dives back in.

^I tried for that one ok, sorry if its blew I just personally don't see her like that so it's harder to execute^

◇ (this era, dom) she incredibly relentless, oxytocin was definitely about you. Keeping with the switch theme she could either be a soft dom or rough one, you never knew what you'd be getting. Rough days, she will not let you move, like a rabid animal she will pin you down and relentlessly rails you. Soft dom billie will be so assuring and sweet, aserting her power over you. Being so gentle while doing so.

"Gunna fuck you so good, you won't remember your own name." She says, pinning your arms above your head as her thrusts become harsher and harsher. "Bil-" Her head shakes. Grabbing your jaw. "Uh uh, speak properly." Her eyes were warning. "Mommy.." You breathe. "Good fucking girl." She growls.

Your body moves all over the bed as she fingers you, watching your face as it contorts, she loves having you like this. Getting reactions out of you like it's nothing. "Talk to me angel. This feel good baby?" You nod. "Words, sweetheart." - "Ye- yes.. feels sooo. Good." You moan as her finger curls, watching your eyes roll back with such pleasure. Biting your lip as the feeling intensifies. "Very good, for me."

Kinks: talking you through it, you being in control. Main two she adores

BLACK W BANGS

- again dominant but sooo cheeky and feral. She was very open and risky

^how I see it^

◇ such a fucking menace and a tease you'd have the most fun with this era. Saying that she'd forever do the simplest touches in public but they were always very affective.

◇ going back to this era being risky she would not care if you were in public. For example she'd always rest a hand on your thigh at the movies, leading it up to your needy cunt. And oh boy the teasing touches made you go mental. Or if you were at a restaurant. This woman simply didn't care she needed her hands on you.

◇ bathrooms are another place, whether it be at a mall or a party she'd always drag you away to have her fun.

"Billie, someone could hear." She smirks. "Best be quiet then huh?" Your eyes full with worry, but that excitement peaks through,as embarrassing as that sounds. But Billie almost wants people to hear you, hear how risky it could be. Hear everything only to walk out of this party letting everyone know it was her doing. Her making you squirm and whimper. Her hands slide up your dress moving it. "B-" Her lips crash onto yours, keeping you quiet for now. But she was sure as hell not helping you later on. And when that time comes she speeds up, having you gasping for air. Someone then comes in, obviously not to pee but to stand around gawking at the mirror no doubt. Your eyes widen in fear. Going to put your hand over your mouth but she grav your wrists, quietly putting them above your head, against the door. Your legs tremble, so close to letting slip a moan. Billies finger raises to her lips, signaling for you to be quiet. The return to your wrists keeping them there. This fucking woman.

Kinks: public affection, Agoraphilia ! She adores to be risky with you, knowing you get shy. It just fuels her.

RED ROOTS

- I feel like in this era she's full dom, more on the rougher side too. Red roots is truly a menace!

^how I see it^

◇ this mf is a teaser, she would gladly edge you until your literally in tears, having such a wicked smirk on her face.

◇ you would never disobey this era. And if you even did it wouldn't end good for you.

Her fingers were deep, then they weren't. "Hmm all this squirming when you asked for this. You knew what I'd do. What I'm capable of baby." You whine, you regret it so much. She's been edging you for three hours straight. You decided to mess with her since you hadn't ever. Now you never, ever will again if this is the outcome. "Told you I wasn't kidding."

◇ this era was very protective, bringing that jealousy out more so. Having an arm around you always at events or parties. She had to make it known you were hers.

She had been pulled aside by people, making you look around aimlessly. A female stood beside you. "Hey gorgeous." She seemed sincere. But as soon as Billie caught sight she excused herself from whatever was keeping her. "Oh hi." You smile sweetly. No. Only she could make you smile like that. She comes up behind you, setting a dominating hand at the base of your neck. You knew those rings. Those cold, rings. You don't even need to turn around. "Hey baby." Her lips meet your jaw, giving it a long kiss. Her hand never moving once. "Oh hi Billie." Billie had no clue who she was. "Mhmm, I'd be on the way now." You grab her hand as the woman leaves. "Play nice." Her brow raises. "Careful mama." Her movements are swift into grabbing your own wrists. "Don't start something you know damn well you can't finish." - "You could've been nicer." You say sweetly. You were just so stupid. According to her. "Nice huh? Sure, but i won't be so nice later." ... fuck.

◇ this era stuck to her words so when you disobeyed even in the slightest she'd immediately put you back in your place.

"Come on baby, thought you said you were done being a bratty little bitch." You nod vigorously. "Was I wrong?" You couldn't speak even if she was after that. "So I should go through with a punishment?" Your head shakes. "Then answer me." You let out a breath. "N-no, I promise I won't do it again." Her head tilts. "That's what you said last time baby. You lied to me." And that's all you remember. It had been nearly two hours, the sheets were ruined from countless orgasms, countless missed orgasms. All in one sitting. "Told you. You just didn't listen huh bub?" - "Just a dumb whore." You whimper, needing to cum. You were so far gone, so down bad for this woman. "Daddy please, please need it so bad." She smirks. "What, to release? Only good girls cum. I don't think you've earned that title." You whine. "B-but.." She shakes her head. "Prove to me youre sorry and you won't do it again." You'd think the tears would prove that but that was certainly not enough. "Won't do it ever again, wanna be goof for you. Please let me cum, please daddy. I'll be the best for you always. And if I don't. Next punishment will be.." You sigh not wanting to even put the idea into her head. "The vibrator that you have full control of." Shes officially satisfied. "Good girl, setting your own punishments. Better stick to your own word huh?" You nod. "Cum."

Kinks: degrading, and being called daddy, orgasm control.

BROWN

- kinda getting back into the greenish era like silver Billie, such a menace but I can SO see this era being a soft dom. Can't change my mind.

^how I see it^

◇ she so talks you through it, words soft and alluring. Her favorite thing to do is tell you how good youre being for her.

"Being suuuuch a good girl, huh baby?" You are a complete mess, moaning. Whimpering. Her choice of words, her voice. How could you not whimper. As she thrusts her fingers in you can't help but want more. "Please Billie." She just smiles down at you. "You want more, hm?" You nod. "Words sweet thing. Use that beautiful voice." Your eyes shut momentarily. "Need the strap, please. Need it deep." You confess. She was proud. As anything, hearing you ask so specifically. "Then thats what my baby shall get."

◇ but even if you weren't being good just one simple look would make you fall to your knees. You try and you do it fairly often but man is it hot to see her putting you in your place with just her eyes.

◇ this era would never be rough with you, she's just too obsessed with you, always making you feel secure in the bedroom.

◇ the way she talks to you, it's so gentle, shes imperious. In the best way. Guiding you all the time. She's grown so much and is so much more mature now. Showing that.

"Too much." You sigh, but who were you kidding it made you spiral more. The strap hitting angles you didn't know was possible. "Never too much, I know you baby." - "You take me sooo well. So good." Her kisses linger on your neck as shes nestled in the crook. "F-fuck! Feels so good." You moan into her ear as her thrusts never stop being powerful. "Exactly my point babygirl."

◇ having a kink in wanting to get you pregnant. She curses the fact that she can't do it automatically.

"Wanna fill you up." She says softly, feeding both of your secret desires. "Gunna have a mini us running around." She snaps her hips forward forcefully. "N-need to feel it. Please Billie." She smirks, loving how desperate you sound. "Yeah ? Wanna feel how deep I can shoot it into you. Maybe even make you have twins, fuck!" She says as you squeeze around the strap. Almost as if it was actually hers. You back arches, gushing within and instant on her. The squirting dildo doing the exact same.

Kinks: praising, breeding.

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie elish icons #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish imagine #billie #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fandom #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish headcannons

664 notes · View notes

russosimp · 21 days ago

Text

Massage (g!p Alessia Russo x reader)

Summary: Alessia massages you and things quickly escalate from innocent to sensual and hot 18+

Warnings: smut, g!p Alessia, fingering, handjob, unprotected p in v, little bit of a breeding kink, soft to rough

Word count: 4k (don't know how that happened, oops)

You've been sore in your shoulders and back all week. It's been a tough few days at work and you have been so tense that you now feel it all over your back, even though you work in an office.

Alessia notices your discomfort almost immediately after your walk through the door when you make it home on Friday evening.

"Are you alright babe, you seem a bit off?" She asks you from where she's lounging on the couch.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit stiff from working so much this week. Nothing a hot bath and a good night's sleep can't fix." You tell her and sink down on the couch next to her, leaning into her body. She welcomes you with open arms, pulling you into her side.

"How about I run you that bath then after dinner? We can eat in a couple of minutes, it's just in the oven."

You hum at the thought, appreciative of her thoughtfulness.

Just as she offered, she runs you a bath after dinner. You lie in the hot water, letting go of the stressful week. Relaxation washes over you and you feel your back already feeling less tense.

After a while, Alessia pokes her head into the bathroom.

"All good in here? Do you want another glass of wine?"

You decline the offer, the combination of the hot water with only one glass of wine has been enough for your head already, you don't want to get drunk. Although you do appreciate the slight buzz that's washed over you.

"I was thinking that I could give you a massage when you're finished with the bath? Really work out the knots in your back now that they're all loose from the warmth of the water anyway?"

That's definitely an offer you can't and won't decline. Alessia doesn't give you massages often enough in your opinion even though she is quite skilled with her hands, so you obviously take her offer.

When you get out of the water, you dry yourself and then walk into the bedroom, where Alessia is already busy with preparing your bed. She's got the massage oil on the bedside table and is currently putting one of you big beach towels on your sheets so that the oil doesn't ruin them. The towel is almost as big as your mattress itself is which is a huge plus.

Alessia looks at you over her shoulder and sends you a small smile. You also don't miss the appreciative glance she gives your still very much naked body.

You walk over to her and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for taking care of me, Less."

"Of course, babe!" Alessia smiles at you. "I'm just going to wash my hands really quick and then we're all ready to go."

While Alessia is in the bathroom, you get on the bed and lie down on your front, head tilted on a pillow and arms parallel to your body.

Alessia enters the bedroom and gets the bottle of massage oil from the bedside table before getting on the bed as well. She straddles your thighs to have better access to your back.

She bends over and leaves a couple of kisses on your neck. "Relax, babe." She whispers into your ear.

You then feel her drizzling oil over your back and your shoulders and then you hear her rubbing her hands, probably to make sure they're warm and you won't get any bad surprises with some cold hands on you.

Her hands slowly start spreading the oil all over your back and shoulders, before she starts to actually massage you.

Alessia's hands all over your back feel almost heavenly after the week you've had. Her hands start to slowly massage your shoulders at first, working out some of the knots especially in the upper area near your neck which have been bothering your for a while.

She starts to make her way downwards to your back, running her hands up and down, just loosening your tight muscles there. You marvel at the feeling and close your eyes, completely giving yourself over to the feeling.

Her hands work on one side now and you can't help but notice how huge her hands feel on you. It's something you obviously know already but you always notice the size of her hands a bit more when she's massaging you. Your thoughts going to her hands sends a different kind of shiver down your back and your head fills with thoughts of her hands wandering down even more.

When she focuses on one particular knot on your lower back you can't help but moan, not just at the great feeling of getting a back massage but also at the thoughts that are now in your head. You both know that Alessia's hands are a massive turn-on for you but you didn't think you were in the mood since you felt absolutely exhausted just up until a minute ago.

Well, how fast Alessia (and her hands) can change your mind.

She stays on that knot for a while longer, eliciting a few more moans from you. "Feels so good, Lessi."

Her hands wander upwards again, and then she is back to running her hands up and down your back slowly. You feel youself breathing heavier now and you know Alessia can hear it, too.

You feel Alessia lifting herself up and off your thigs. Before you can complain, the bed dips beside you and her hands are back on you again. She spends a couple of minutes just slowly rubbing your back from her spot, kneeling beside you. Neither of your talk, you're enjoying the feeling of her hands on you way too much to have a conversation and she seems fully concentrated on her task.

But then you feel oil being drizzled on your ass cheeks, making you groan at the prospect of her hands on there. And sure enough, her hands come to your ass immediately, spreading the oil and massaging your cheeks.

You feel a couple of drops of the oil slowly running down your ass and making their way towards your cunt, making you moan at the feeling.

You're always very responsive to any touch on your ass and you feel yourself rolling your hips just a little bit in tune with Alessia's touch.

She's using her thumbs to dig them into your ass cheeks now, slowly massaging you as you softly moan along. Her hands don't go any further down though, so far she has only touched your thighs right where they meet your ass, you'd like her to go to your inner thighs, but she is staying on your ass. For now.

She is going in a bit firmer now, pretty much kneading your ass cheeks which has you moaning even more than before. Your moans are all a bit muffled by the pillow beneath your head but you know she can hear them anyway.

Alessia's massage itself but especially her hands on your ass turn you on. You can feel that you're getting wetter by the minute, even though she's barely crossed the line of an innocent massage so far.

You slowly open your legs a bit and then bend the knee that's closer to Alessia, pushing it up and effectively presenting your glistening cunt to your girlfriend.

There's a sharp intake of breath at your movement and you smile to yourself, satisfied. It's good to know that Alessia isn't as unaffected as she's made it seem so far.

Her hands go a little further now, starting to massage your inner thighs as well. You bite your lip, you want to tell her to please touch your cunt. But her hands being everywhere but there feels amazing, too. The anticipation builds the tension deep within your core and you enjoy that feeling too much to beg her to do something yet.

She lets her hands wander upwards again, over your sides. Her fingers lightly graze the side of your tits which you just know is a deliberate choice to tease you even further.

The touch made you aware just how hard your nipples are, even though they're completely pressed into the sheets beneath you. You bring your arms, that have been on your sides, up and put them under your head. This pushes your upper body just a tiny bit off the bed which gives Alessia a bit more room to touch your tits when her hands make their way down from your shoulders again.

Alessia stops at your thighs and starts to knead your flesh there, slowly inching closer to your cunt with each touch. You whine deep in the back of your throat and push your hips in the direction of her hands.

You can hear her chuckle at your impatience.

But apparently your movements are enough to spur her on. Finally, you feel her hands going down the side of your thigh, lightly brushing your folds with the side of her hand.

Automatically, you feel yourself clench around nothing.

She repeats the same movement a couple of times, each time keeping her hand on your thigh and only touching your cunt seemingly on accident. Of course you know it's not by accident but the touch is so light that it sure seems that way.

As a result, you open up yourself even further. You push your other knee up as well, so that both your thighs are splayed, effectively spreading your cunt open for her.

You hear her shuffle a bit closer and then each of her hands are on each of your thighs, right at the edge of your cunt. She pushes downwards which traps your folds between her hands. You groan loudly at the sensation of your cunt being squished by her hands, it gives you just the slightest fraction on you clit.

After repeating that notion a few times, she finally has mercy on you and you feel her fingers parting your folds and lightly stroking your cunt. She lets her fingers run over your cunt, coating them in your arousal.

Again, you hear her breathing pretty hard, before she finally sinks her fingers into your pussy. You whimper at the intrusion of two fingers at once.

She slowly works her fingers in and out of you, stroking you, but not fast enough to really give you the friction you'd need to get over the edge you've been at for a while now. She seems to want to keep you there as she doesn't increase her pace at all, just stroking you slowly.

You softly moan with her strokes, they feel good, her long and thick fingers touching you much deeper than most people could with their hands. Two of her big fingers already feel amazing, but you also know what three fingers feel like. "F-fuck, please add one more, Lessi."

Surprisingly, she obliges instantly and adds a third finger with her next stroke into you. You moan at the feeling of being stretched just a bit more. To spur her on even further, you start to lightly rock into her hand.

That's when she curls her fingers inside of you, she doesn't pull out this time, but instead finds your g-spot and massages it with her fingers while still moving her hand in rocking motions. You feel your orgasm building up inside of you and clench around her fingers.

But instead of continuing her work on your g-spot, she slowly pulls out of you, making you whine at her not letting you finish.

"I know, baby, that's mean, isn't it?" She softly coos. "Just a bit more patience."

You feel the bed dip and open your eyes. There she is, sitting down next to you, back resting on the headboard, her cock rock-hard if the tent in her shorts is anything to go by.

Before you can ask her what she's doing, she's already pulling you up. She turns you around and places you against her. Now you're resting with your back against her front, sitting in between her spreaded legs. You can feel her cock pocking against you but she doesn't seem concered about herself right now.

Her arms come around you and she pulls you more against herself. She gets the oil from somewhere next you and drizzles some on your tits and stomach and then lets her hands roam your body, rubbing the oil all over you.

You let your head fall back against her shoulder, exhaling slowly and enjoying her soft touches everywhere. She cups the undersides of your tits and kneads them, making you moan. Her thumbs slowly circle your nipples very softly at first, before she squeezes your tits and tweaks your sensitive nipples. You whimper at the sensation.

You feel her lips trailing wet kisses on your neck and turn your head to face her. She kisses you deeply and slowly. You open your mouth and let her tongue explore your mouth, dancing against your own. It's all slow and without hurry, just feeling each other.

While you kiss, her hands wander down your body, and she spreads your legs against her own, opening you up once more. Her hands slowly trail over your thighs before making their way up to your tits again.

You whimper into her mouth at the loss of her hands near your cunt and pull away from her lips. The lost orgasm from before is still fresh on your mind and her hands on your tits aren't doing enough for you. "Babe- please touch me. Let me cu-m."

Alessia clicks her tongue but her hands slowly glide down your body anyway. She places her hands on either side of your cunt, pressing your folds between her fingers again. She pulls your cunt open with her next movement, slowly running the tips of her fingers over your exposed pussy. Her index fingers are on either side of your clit, not touching, just moving up and down right around it.

You moan at the sensation. Even though she's not touching your clit, her movements feel very good and go straight to your core. You can feel the pressure building inside of you once again, it doesn't take much this time as it hasn't been released yet.

But you also know that her running her fingers around your cunt won't be enough.

Thankfully, she doesn't keep you waiting any longer and finally lets her fingers run over your clit. It's just a featherlight touch but it sends a jolt through your whole body. You moan loudly. "Yes, right there!"

Alessia leaves a few open mouthed kisses against on the side of your neck and whispers into your ear. "Do you want my fingers, too, baby?"

You nod violently. "Yes! Please, fuck me, Less, oh god- need you now."

She doesn't have to be asked twice and pushes three of her big fingers inside of you at once, making you scream. Her pace isn't as slow as it was before but it's still not fast, it's still more strokes than thrusts. But the palm of her hand makes all the difference. Because of the angle and the size of her hands, her palm grazes over your clit with each push of her fingers into your cunt.

It doesn't take long until the pressure in your core unravels and you cum with a long moan of her name. She keeps her finges going, guiding you through your orgasm.

You lean even more heavily into her when you slowly come down from your high. She nips at your neck while you catch your breath.

Then, you push yourself off her, turning around to face her. You kiss her slowly, still not rushing anything. When you break the kiss you tug at the hem of her shirt, she's definitely wearing too many clothes in your opinion. She lifts her arms and lets you take the shirt off. You continue with her bra which you throw in the same direction you had her shirt.

You sit back to make room for her to push down her shorts. She does and you watch as her thick cock springs free.

"Lie down." You tell her and she obliges, scooting down until she's lying flat on her back.

You swing you leg over her, straddling her thighs, her cock standing right in front of you. She's leaking pre-cum, obviously very turned on by the direction the massage had taken.

You take her cock in both your hands, swiping over her tip with one of your thumbs, and collecting her pre-cum to spread it over her cock. You slowly stroke her with both your hands, listening to her breaths getting deeper again.

You lift yourself off her thighs and shuffle upwards. Her hands immediately come to your thighs, lightly running over them. She's clearly expecting you to sink down on her cock but you have a different idea. You do sink down but you bend her cock towards her stomach and then trap it there, between her stomach and your very wet cunt.

"You- feel so good!" She almost stumbles over her words.

Slowly, you start gliding over her cock with your glistening cunt, coating her with a mixture of your slick and some massage oil. One of your hands stay on her cock, massaging her tip while you glide over the base and its length.

Alessia is a moaning mess now, her grip on your thighs is almost painful as she's digging her fingers in your flesh. You know she can't help it with how much she's enjoying this position.

Feeling the need to just feel more of her, you let yourself fall forward, now lying on top of her. Your cunt is still gliding over her cock but you also use your very oiled up body to glide over her upper body as well. Your tits rub against each other, both of your nipples hard. You kiss Alessia briefly but you're both panting too hard to actually maintain a kiss.

Your movements get a bit less controlled the more turned on you get. Alessia's hands come up to your hips, trying to guide you a bit more and maintain a rhythm. That doesn't prevent her cock slipping out from in between you as you slide up just a bit too high on her body. You're both too much into your movements to let that stop you though, feeling her now slick body beneath your own makes you feel so connected to her.

For the next few downwards movements of your body, you feel her cock sometimes slide a bit between you and sometimes poke against one of your ass cheeks.

You lift your body a bit trying to get her cock in between your bodies again, wanting to get her to cum like this. At the same time, she guides your hips, stabilizing them in your sometimes erratic movements.

Suddenly, you feel her cock slip right into your cunt at your next downwards movement. You both still for a split second and then moan loudly in unison at the feeling of her filling you completely so abruptly.

You continue sliding up and down her body, but now you're also sliding up and down her cock. She had bottomed out in you with the first thrust so that you now fuck yourself on her cock deeply from the beginning, not needing to adjust anymore.

Alessia is letting you set the pace and doesn't take over, even though she's usually more in control between the two of you.

You listen to the sounds in your room, the only thing you can hear are both of you panting, the sounds your slick bodies make against each other, and the wet sounds of your cunt. Really listening to these sounds makes you clench around Alessia's cock and you feel that you're close to your second orgasm.

As you chase your orgasm, your movements get faster. You feel Alessia's thick, veiny cock running along your walls and then she twitches inside of you.

"I- I'm gonna cum." She breathes out and that's what sends you over the edge. The sheer prospect of her cumming inside of your makes you cum.

You clench around her cock which in turn makes Alessia cum as well. She loudly grunts and thrust upwards into you just once and then holds you against herself. You can feel her cock twitching as she shoots her strings of hot, thick cum into you.

"Fucking take all of it." She grunts and rocks her hips once more, somehow gettig even deeper than before. The movement makes you moan and you can feel another load of cum spraying into you.

You lie on top of her, both of you panting heavily. You feel absolutely boneless, slumped into Alessia's body, her arms the only thing holding you in place.

After a few moments, you feel her cock softening inside of you and start to slide off her, going to lie next to her instead.

But her arms lock you in place, not letting you move further.

"No, stay." She says, still a bit breathless. "Want my cum to stay inside of you."

And well, that's not new, she has a bit of an obsession with her cum not dripping out of you. It's hot when she gets a bit of tunnelvision about it.

You lie your head onto her chest, enjoying the closeness and her warmth. You could fall asleep like that, and knowing her, Alessia would probably like to sleep with her cock inside of you.

But you can feel her cock hardening inside of you again before you get even close to sleep. You lift your head up to look at her.

Instead of saying anything, Alessia just grins at you, her wide, kind of juvenile grin you like so much.

Now, she does lift you off of her and places you on the mattress next to her. She's immediately on you, taking both of your legs and pushes them upwards and over her shoulders, giving her the best access to your cunt.

She guides her cock to scoop up the little bit of cum that started oozing out of you.

"Keep it all in." She mumbles more to herself, before she thrusts into you again and starts to fuck her cum back into you. She bottoms out with this first thrust again, filling you once more.

She starts with deliberate and hard thrusts, making you cry out with each one. You can hear the absolute obscene sounds your wet, and filled to the brink with cum, pussy makes against her cock with each thrust.

Your walls flatter around her, absolutely spent and overstimulated.

Alessia quickens her pace, fucking hard and deep into you.

"Come on, I know you can give me one more." She pants above you, her thrusts unrelenting.

Before you even know what's going on, you're thrust into your next orgasm. The coil in your stomach snaps with no warning, making your body shake from the impact. You moan, uncontrolled and unabashed.

Alessia fucks you through your orgasm, talking you through it as well. "That's my girl, you're doing so good for me- oh god, I'm gonna cum!"

She's practically babbling by the end, chasing her own orgasm. Her thrusts go from deep and deliberate to erratic with an even faster pace, letting you know that she's very close, too.

With a stutter of her hips, she unloads in you, moaning deeply.

"F-fuck, I'm cumming, take it, baby!" Her thick cum hits your insides, mixing with her previous load, filling you even more than you already had been. You moan with her, the feeling of her cum filling you absolutely overwhelming you in a delicious way.

#alessia russo x reader #g!p alessia russo #alessia russo smut #woso fanfics #woso smut

233 notes · View notes

parfaitblogs · 9 months ago

Text

bad idea right? ❀ s. reid x reader

in which hooking up with your ex is probably not a good idea... right?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst/smut (18+ mdni) tags: porn with plot. reader's mentioned wearing a dress. fingering. kind of fade to black p in v. i think im incapable of writing no d/s dynamics so soft dom!spencer my beloved. i don't mention protection but he wrapped it just trust me guys. really awful decisions are made. word count: 3.9k a/n: i know i KNOW i said im writing fluffy smut but i simply cannot help myself... anyways this has been in the works for far too long (months...) but i have a lot of ideas for this dynamic/pairing so if we want more pls tell me 💗💘💕💕💗 i will do it!!! maybe im already doing it!!!!!💗💘💗💘💓don't fuck ur exes and thank u again for 1k ily

"Hey."

There was a beat. Then another. By the third beat your heart had started stuttering in your chest and your adrenaline-induced activities had caught up to your brain. You were slowly sinking into yourself under his gaze, that probably wasn't scrutinising, but definitely felt that way. Regret pooling in your stomach because yes, this was an absolutely awful idea, and he had clocked it within the twenty minutes it took for you to get here after his last text.

His last text that did technically say you shouldn't come over, but if you did he wouldn't leave you stranded out in the hall. Such a gentleman, you had thought.

"I said you shouldn't come," he chastised, and your legs wobbled beneath the weight of your regret.

"You also said I could—"

"—As a courtesy," his voice was firmer than you remembered him ever being, and your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest at the sound of it.

"Well don't add courtesy messages if you don't want me to take them seriously," you retorted, and your arms crossed over your chest.

He was silent for a few moments, gears turning behind his eyes, deciding if he should send you home or let you in. Then, he was stepping back, and gesturing for you to come inside — and you were.

Admittedly, six months was a long time. Being here at all is risky, and there was that fear of there being a girl sitting curled up on his couch, watching an episode of something Spencer had bribed her to watch. And maybe if you were any more sane, you would not be carefully analysing every inch of his apartment. Searching for — and expecting there to be — someone residing in spaces you had once found comfort in.

But; no one. Then you decided that thought was stupid, because Spencer Reid was not (stupid), and he wouldn't have asked you to come to his apartment if there was a girl there.

"Why are you dressed up?" he asked you, eyeing the dress you had on, even as he brushed past you to head into his kitchen.

"Had a party," you replied, clasping your hands behind your back, watching him walk around his apartment with so much ease. Maybe this was only awkward for you.

"Is that why you messaged me?"

"No. No. I didn't drink," you quickly said, shaking your head, immediately clocking where his own thoughts had wandered off to.

He nodded his head, leaning against his kitchen counter, rubbing his palms together as he studied the marble countertop, seemingly needing to find his words. "Then why did you?"

Your lips parted, silence settling between you two for a few moments longer, unsure if your internal turmoil from the night you had been having should be something for his ears or not.

You decided it was. "Everyone's in relationships. And all their partner's were there with them at the party."

"And you were alone."

"Yeah."

He slowly nodded his head, his gaze settling on you again. "You were lonely."

Your shoulders shrugged, your own eyes dropping to the floor as embarrassment crept up your spine uncomfortably. "I missed you."

"Don't."

"What? Miss you?"

"Yes," he said, voice strained enough for your stomach to flip. "That isn't fair."

"I know."

"You're the one who ended things."

"I know."

He was silent then, his hands dragging down his face, pausing to dig the pads of his index fingers into his eye sockets. He sighed, his arms dropping by his side heavily, eyes returning to you. Again.

"You can't do this," he grew firmer, the sudden tone of voice causing an uncomfortable dull ache to form in your chest.

"Do what?" you asked, quietly.

"Come see me every time you feel lonely."

"I don't come see you every time I feel lonely."

He bore holes into your face, eyes meticulously committing features to memory, before he straightened his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. "Don't make this a habit."

"It won't," you said, quickly, a promise you both knew you couldn't make truthfully.

Hesitantly, he nodded his head towards his couch, and despite the blaring alarm in your brain telling you to just go home and forget about it, your feet carried you over to it. Sinking into the plush of black leather you had sat so many times before, the fabric cold against your legs.

His face softened involuntarily, staring at you, heart achingly vulnerable and small, tucked into the corner of his couch. It almost made it easy to forget the past six months and everything leading up to the breakup. Almost.

He stayed standing, as a power move or because he was simply awkward, you didn't know anymore. The man you were currently sharing air with did not seem the same as he had half a year prior. That hurt.

Sitting up straighter, you clasped your hands in your lap, fixating your gaze on the coffee table in front of you. "I'm sorry."

He didn't respond for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by your sudden apology. Then, feet shuffling that indicated he was walking away from the couch, and your heart sank to your stomach.

"For what?" he asked, his voice gruffer than he had intended.

Your breath hitched. "Breaking up with you, I guess."

Too many memories filled your mind from what had happened, and you felt the guilt you had suppressed for months crawl its way back up your spine.

"And you think sorry can make it all okay?" his voice had a hint of bitterness in it, and you couldn't even blame him for it.

"No. Obviously not," you said, shifting on the couch to turn your head to look at him, fixating on him as he attempted to busy himself with rearranging the books on his desk. "Can you come here, please?"

His movements paused, and he lifted his gaze to you. There was a silent battle between your eyes, before you inevitably won, and he nodded, letting go of the hardback book he was moving and instead walking over to you on the couch.

"I feel awful. For the way I left," you told him when he found residence on the other end of the couch, the distance technically small, but to you, seemingly massive.

"You didn't seem upset when you left."

"I was. Please believe me."

He was no longer looking at you, but you were at him, and there was a disapproving expression on his face that told you he simply didn't, despite the quiet, "Okay," that fell from his lips.

Unsure of what else to say, you let the silence encase you, instead flickering your eyes around the apartment, attempting to pick out minuscule changes he had made since you'd moved out. Nothing insane jumped out to you, other than the lack of your presence. There no longer being a collection of your own books on his bookshelf, brightly coloured trinkets not cluttering the kitchen countertop anymore. Which was fine. Even the items you had left here unknowingly, you hadn't expected to still be residing in his apartment.

When your gaze settled back on him, you found him staring at you already. Your lips pulled into a small frown, while his parted, breath catching as if about to say something, then stopping.

"You look pretty," he settled on telling you. And if you were any more stable, maybe your heart wouldn't have flipped in your chest.

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn slightly.

Despite the fluster such a simple compliment brought you, you couldn't look away. And it seemed neither could he. Staring at each other for ticking minutes, until you were finally breaking the brick wall of tension and standing up.

"I shouldn't have come," you told him. "You were right."

"I should agree with you," he replied, watching your every movement. Even as you halted your beeline towards his door, confusion creeping up your spine. He had noticed it.

You turned back to him. "But you don't."

"No. I don't," he agreed. "We ended abruptly."

"I left."

"Yeah."

It had been a huge misunderstanding, in the grand scheme of it all. A misunderstanding you had logically worked out after a week of dwelling on it all, but then had far too much pride to reach out to him again. Instead, allowing the remnants of your relationship to rot away in the back of your mind, never to be touched again.

Until you were violently reminded just how much you had thrown away that night in a room full of happy people.

Letting your shoulders soften, you trudged back over to him, standing rather awkwardly in front of him on the couch. Not that it felt awkward. You decided awkwardness was impossible when Spencer Reid stared at you like you were the sun materialised in his living room — the same way he had when you were still with him. And after six months of not seeing him, and an entire awkward conversation later, you finally wondered if anything had actually changed at all.

How you felt about him certainly hadn't. Eyes fixated on him like he was going to disappear if you even twitched, and you had the fleeting thought of kissing him. Which then turned into a recurring thought, until you were actively fighting the thought because this was not your boyfriend and kissing him was quite possibly the worst thing you could ever do.

But God, did you want to.

"I resented you for a long time."

You ignored the guilt eating away at your heart, and the hurt that settled in your stomach. You deserved his resent.

"You don't anymore?" you asked, voice choked up from the thick ball of a sob caught in your throat.

"No," he shook his head. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

You nodded your own head wordlessly. "That's fair."

He exhaled sharply, and his fingers pressed into the inner corners of his eyes. "You shouldn't be here."

"So you've said."

"No, I mean—" he cut himself off, lifting his gaze back to you. "I have things I want to do, that I will regret."

"With me?" You already knew the answer.

"Yes," he confirmed anyways. "And we shouldn't."

"We definitely shouldn't," you agreed.

He stood, dropping his hands by his sides, and you feared for a moment he was going to kick you out, just for the sake of his own sanity. Maybe it would be better for the both of you if he did that.

He didn't.

Instead, you learned quite quickly that he was battling the same internal conflict you were. And maybe he was attempting to ignore it; same as you. Maybe he had lost that war and that was why he was acting on those terrifying impulses.

"I want to kiss you."

You were mostly shocked the words hadn't come from you. But by the time you had registered that fact, you had also registered you were nodding in agreement, followed by your consent, and he then was kissing you.

And it was like no time had passed at all.

His lips on your own were as desperate as you remember — even in the quieter mornings he would kiss you like you'd disintegrate beneath him, never to be seen again. And, with matching his desperation, you found his knees buckling as they hit the edge of the couch, and he was coaxing you down onto it with gentle hands on your hips.

Abiding his physical request, your knees dug into the cushions, on either side of his body, and he was stuttering through breaths, lips detaching from your own. Your protests about it died on your tongue quickly as he kissed down your jaw and over the skin of your neck — delicately, for he had always been keenly aware of how sensitive the vessels and nerves in your neck were.

"You definitely haven't drank tonight?" he mumbled against your skin once his lips had reached the top edge of your dress.

"No," you confirmed with a shake of your head, and he let out what seemed like a sigh of relief — you didn't know if feeding into that idea was good for you mentally or not.

His fingers trailed up the length of your spine, your back arching on impulse as goosebumps arose on your skin. Tender hands found the thin straps of your dress, and his head lifted to look at you again. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, content flooding over you as he did as he had intended, and you were slipping your arms out of the straps of your dress.

"This is such a bad idea," he mumbled, and all you could do was hum in agreement, for he was still pressing kisses along your skin down past your collarbone.

Maybe it was the lingering thought that you shouldn't be doing this that egged you on. The knowledge that your friends would probably consider a violent end for you (and him) once they found out. That this was bad, and you were going to regret it the second it was over.

His hands dropped back to your hips, and you searched for his lips again with your own, kissing him once more. Your dress bunched at your waist with help from Spencer, and hands that grappled at your ass tugged you impossibly closer.

"Are you actually going to hookup with me on your couch?" you murmured against his lips.

"Where would you prefer us to be?" he asked you, tilting his head back so he could see you once more.

"Your bed."

If he disagreed with your suggestion, he hid it behind a nod, tapping your thighs so you could climb off of him. Which, you did, leading him towards his own bedroom, similarly to all the ways you had done it before. He tried not to dwell on that.

"Have you been with anyone since we broke up?"

Your voice was filled with an insecurity you wished to burn as you climbed onto the bed. The sheets so familiar you felt like crying.

"Do you really want the answer to that question?" he asked, positioning himself over you, fingers placed at your waist.

"No," you decided, a response he knew you'd reply with. "But I guess that is an answer within itself."

"I guess," he agreed, head ducking back down to kiss over your shoulders and collarbones.

"Were they good?"

"I'm not answering that."

"So they were."

He said your name, chidingly, nipping at your skin. "If you want to do this, I need your focus to be here. Not the other people I've had sex with."

"Okay. Sorry."

He only hummed as a response, the hand on your waist dropping past your hips, gently parting your legs and running his fingers up the skin of your inner thigh.

Everything he did felt hauntingly familiar, and easy. As if the past six months had been nothing more than a bad dream, and the man who was above you, pulling your underwear down your legs and hiking your dress up to your waist, had done this twice in the past week already.

You'd resonate in that fantasy for as long as you could.

You squirmed as he brushed a finger through your folds, and he smiled, his mind no doubt reminding him of all the times you had done that before.

"Take your time," you muttered, bitterly, as he repeated the gentle ministration a few more times.

"I will," he bit back, though the amusement in his eyes as he met your gaze again told you he was similarly as impatient. "I'm just figuring out what makes you feel good."

"You've forgotten?"

"No," he shook his head, the word flying off his tongue as he circled your clit with his finger, with a frustrating expertise. "I'm reminding myself."

"I like being kissed."

He laughed, quietly. Your heart warmed in your chest, while his lips brushed delicately against yours once more. "Thank you for the reminder."

"Of course," you said, and he was then swallowing a moan as he kissed you, pushing a finger into you at the same time.

His eyebrows knitted together, something you only make out because his lips have tugged into a frown and you were pulling back to peer at him — only to be coaxed back into a kiss by his searching lips. You decided not to ask why he's confused. Or concerned. Or whatever the expression he was making was for.

"Spencer," you breathed out when he had kept his finger still for too long (in your opinion), and he's quick to mumble an apology and start thrusting his finger.

Whether he was more conscious of the sounds you were making, or simply just wanted to kiss you, you didn't know. But his lips stayed connected to yours as he fingered you in practiced motions, that you were focussing so closely on. Perhaps too closely, for he was nipping your lower lip when you had stopped actively kissing him back.

"Is your distraction an indicator of something good? Or do I need to work harder?" he asked you, lifting his head to watch you squirm as he added another finger.

"No, it's something good. It feels good," you reassured him.

The heel of his palm grazed over your clit, and you whined. So, he did it again. You moaned louder. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you moaned at how overwhelming it all was. He might have slept with more people in between, but you certainly hadn't, and it was becoming all too much, all too quick.

You were acutely aware of the movement of his own hips on the bed beside you, your lips tugging up in amusement at the desperation he was displaying. Comforted by the fact that you were not alone.

A particular brush of his fingers upon that spot inside of you cut off your thoughts, and you gasped, jerking your head away. At that, he did it again. And again.

"Spencer—Spencer," you whimpered, brokenly, grappling for any semblance of control over yourself.

"Mm?"

"I'm gonna come," you told him. An honest mistake, because he was now pulling his fingers out of you, despite your quick protests. "No—what the fuck?"

"Shh," he said through a smile, kissing you to quieten your loud objections. "I want to come with you. Is that okay, honey?"

Oh.

Overwhelmed with a sudden shyness, you nodded your head, cheeks warming, and any opposing words dying on your tongue. "Yes. It is."

In an all too quick motion, he went from fully clothed above you, to fully naked and beside you, you having discarded of your own dress at the same time. Absentmindedly, because you were a little too focused on what it was you were actually doing, brain running rampant about how awful of an idea it was.

But then he was shifting your legs open, hand running up and down the skin of your thighs as he positioned himself at your entrance, and you were forgetting all about it.

In a slow, languorous thrust, he pushed himself inside of you, a low hiss leaving his lips as he stilled, your own eyes fluttering shut, hands balling into fists.

"This, I forgot," he breathed out, and you felt his hair tickle your shoulder as he rested his head against it.

"You have an eidetic memory."

"Not for touch. Not like this," he explained, voice strained. "Sorry, sweet girl. Give me a minute."

The pet name had your heart fluttering, and you felt tears sting your vision as the violent reminder that this will never happen again flashed in your mind. You willed that thought away, trying to focus on the feeling of him inside of you, and how good it was in the moment.

"It's been like twenty," you grumbled, pushing your hips back against his, and a choked laugh left his lips.

"Seconds, maybe," he answered, a hand dropping to your hips. To still them or ground himself, you didn't know. "Exercise patience, please."

"Forgive me, but you did just stop me from coming."

He bit your shoulder. "Exercise manners too, while you're at it."

At that, you inhaled, before saying in an awfully sweet voice, "Can you please fuck me, Spencer?"

"Was that so hard?"

"Fuck off."

"After I make you come, I will," he answered, tone of voice unbearably innocent.

A stark contrast to the drag of his hips out of you, and the sharp thrust back in (just to punctuate his point, of course). At its unexpectedness, you gasped, voice cracking and heart somersaulting.

Every thrust into you was a constant reminder of what you had given up. What you had lost. A string of moans from you so achingly familiar to his ears, and heavy breaths from him making you want to never let this end.

He was everything, and perhaps your hands were an inch too small to hold all of him.

As quickly as it had all began, it was over, and you were left in the centre of his mattress, staring up at a ceiling you had intricately dissected with your eyes many times before.

He had disappeared to his bathroom, assumedly to get clothes for himself, and hopefully something for you and your walk of shame you were no doubt doing in less than thirty minutes time.

There was a growing sick feeling in your stomach you could at least identify to be anxiety, paired with the gross feeling of regret for your actions. You were never meant to see him again, despite what your heart had wanted. You forced yourself to be an adult about this, to cut him off. Your friends had pathetically changed his contact name to don't answer on a night out for their own personalised reminder of what talking to him would ensue. Why didn't you fucking listen?

He returned from the bathroom, a pile of clothes you had forgotten you'd ever even left here in his hands. You wiped the sides of your face with the backs of your hands, fluttering your eyelids to cut off anymore tears, sitting up.

"You should probably go," he said. If there was anything left of your heart to shatter, he just did.

"You're kicking me out so soon?" you asked him, failing at keeping your tone of voice light. When he hesitated in a response, you discovered why you no longer let your heart speak for you. You cracked a small smile, shook your head, and muttered, "Kidding."

He didn't need to know you were subconsciously begging him to let you stay.

You stood, albeit on shaking legs, and took the clothes he was offering you. Pulling them on under such a watchful gaze was almost embarrassing, even as he busied himself with stripping the sheets from his bed to avert his attention. He was still keeping note of your presence in his space.

"I—um, bye, Spencer," you stammered, throat closing up with every passing minute.

He looked back at you. "I'll see you out."

"No," you were quick to deny him. "It's okay, I know where the door is. I'll see you around. Maybe. Probably not." Stop talking.

"Yeah. Maybe," he agreed with no real sincerity. "Goodbye."

"Bye," you said, again, hesitating to leave behind the remnants of an even more destroyed relationship.

Though, you had to.

And as you left, you discovered that yes. Everything between you two had changed.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut

688 notes · View notes

starrywyatt · 21 days ago

Text

work from home- will lenney x reader

when will has the most important meeting for rodd’s so far, but reader wants all his attention and what reader wants, reader gets

! NSFW !

───────── ── ౨ৎ ── ─────────

you woke up to the clinking of crockery. groaning and rolling over you were met with the cold and empty spot your boyfriend laid in about 20 minutes ago. slowly arising from your sleepy state, you enter the kitchen and your gaze immediately found your boyfriend topless, wet hair making his breakfast and your stomach did butterflies. no matter how many times you saw the sight of him shirtless with wet hair, it did something to you. “morning love” he called out as he noticed you. “got a really busy day with meetings” he said trying to make his coffee and food at the same time. “let me do this” you walk over and continue cooking his bacon whilst he stirs his coffee. “you’re a star” he says kissing the top of your head. “so busy, you forgot your tshirt it seems” you smirked. “as if you’re complaining” he teases back. will finishes stirring the coffee and gently nudges your arm to let go of the frying pan, “i got it, thank you” he says sweetly and you let go, but your eyes never leave his. “seen something you like?” will asks. “always” you smirk back. “you’re in a cheeky mood today” he laughs. “well you can’t be hanging around wet hair and topless and not expect me to have a look” you shrug, before grabbing an apple juice from the fridge. “how come you’re working from home today?” you ask. “office next door is having maintenance, it’ll be too loud to do any meetings there. we have a big meeting about getting rodd’s into the smaller sainsbury’s so i wanted to make sure connection was good” he explains. “aw babe that’s amazing” you cooed, rubbing his arm affectionately, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips and the desire in you was set on fire but he pulled away. “right i’m gonna go scran this in my office then jump on a call but i love you mrs, see you later” he ruffled your hair before walking into the home office. you don’t know what it was but something in you wanted him more than normal today. “remember a tshirt” you called out and heard him curse to himself before running out the door and back into your shared bedroom. you decided to also make some breakfast, trying to keep noise to a minimum. but, the whole time you were cooking you couldn’t stop thinking about will’s wet hair and shirtless body. you saw it often enough but something felt different today. after making your food, you creep past the office door hoping to maybe grab one last kiss before his calls started but you could hear him talking about stock levels meaning he was definitely in business mode. you sat down at the worktop to eat your breakfast and watched the next episode of the series you had just started. however, you were caught heavily off guard by the sex scene that was taking place and how much of an effect it was having on you. what was going on? you were now feeling cheeky and decided to send will a text…

💬y/n:

will…

about 5 minutes later, he replied…

💬will:

what’s wrong? you okay?

💬y/n:

i can’t stop thinking about you this morning

this reply took a bit longer…

💬will:

but you see it all the time?

💬y/n:

i know but you just looked EXTRA hot today…

after sending that text, you had a message from your period tracking app:

day 14: ovulation

you might have a higher sex drive than normal today

ahh, that makes sense. well, i guess it’s not my fault, it’s my body’s!

💬will:

well, thank you but correction- i look hot all the time

anyways i’ve got to pay attention to this call

💬y/n:

come pay attention to me instead😔

you were usually shy when it came to talking about sex and especially initiating it but something overtook you today.

💬will:

y/n please, i’ll do whatever you want later i promise x

💬y/n:

but what if i’m not in the mood for it later?

when does your next call end?

💬will:

y/n stop, i’d much rather be shagging you than on these calls but i have to, i’m sorry love x

💬y/n:

guess i’ll have to do it myself🙄

that was it, will couldn’t take it anymore. the teasing continued and you were even sending photos to wind him up, nothing too explicit but enough to make him adjust his collar. the call he was currently on just ended and he had 15 minutes before his next one which was the most important of the day, sainsbury’s. he jumped out of his seat and ran to your shared bedroom, bursting open the door. “i’ve got 15 minutes, make them count” he said, faster than anticipated and jumped on the bed in a frantic manner. you pushed your laptop to the side and will immediately connected your lips. you reciprocated, cupping his face and kissing deeper. you, resting on the headboard had will kneeling between your legs. he reached round to grab your ankles and pulled your so you were laying down, “lay down” he demanded and you did exactly as you were told. will moved back and leaned down, pulling your pyjama trousers off and looking up for permission to do your underwear too, you of course nodded. before you knew it, he had his face between your legs and was hitting all the sweet spots and playing you like an instrument that was making the best music. the sounds of you moaning spurring him on to keep going. “will i’m so close” you called out so will stopped. “un do me” he said moving forward to your face and getting you to undo his button before he slid off his trousers. he then pulled his own black calvin’s down his hips and his member sprung out, ready to go. “so i wasn’t the only one?” you teases. “well you got me all riled up” he sighs softly. he gives himself a few tugs before lining up with your entrance, rubbing your clit softly a few times before pushing himself into you. “fuck will” you yelled out. his eyes rolling too, happy with the feeling. “so tight” he moans out, pounding you slowly. he looks up to you, moving his head forward to kiss you. he keeps pumping, “i love you. i love you so much” will says as the tense builds. he reaches forward and pulls on your nipples, owning an even louder moan than before, will keeps going, knowing exactly what to do to get you to the edge. “i’m so close” will groans out. “me too” you say through moans. “ready?” will asks and you nod and on the imaginary count of 3, you both release at the same time. “good girl, that’s it” will says through his own orgasm. both of you reaching your highs. heavy breathing fills the room and will slowly pulls out, sighing and slightly out of breath. “happy now?” he teases, joking. “hmm somewhat” you joke back. will looks up to the clock. “shit the meeting started 7 minutes ago” will scrambles around for his clothes on the floor, before bolting out the door and immediately turns back around remembering he hadn’t he even kissed or cuddled you after what you’d just done. “i’m so sorry to leave you like but you started it and i really need to go” he pecks your lips. “i love you, you can have unlimited cuddles later i promise” he says in a rapid voice. you don’t even have time to respond before the door is slammed. i mean you technically did get what you wanted.

will runs back into the office and can hear james’ voice on the screen, “we have really seen demand for-“ he raises an eyebrow as will appears in frame. “i am so sorry, had an emergency with the plumbing in the kitchen. where are we?” he asked in reference to the call but the panic inside was extreme and it was definitely reflecting on his face and the fact his tshirt was definitely on backwards.

💬james:

for next time, get some sound proof padding

also, your shirt looks great backwards x

fuck, will thought to himself. he was so gonna curse y/n for this later.

i guess rodd’s might not be coming to small sainsbury’s as soon as we thought.

#willne x reader #willne #will lenney #willne y/n #james marriott #willlenney #a bit more willne #willne smut #willne imagine #willne fluff

180 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 5 months ago

Text

Ludos Imperiales 5

Summary: A celebration of Amarantha's victories in Illyria reveals just how bad the Empire has become.

Content Warnings: Blood and Descriptions of Injuries; Crucifixions and Mentions of Torture; Slavery

Pt 1, 2, 3, 4

--------

Sleep is elusive. I find myself staring at the ceiling, watching the cream colored walls change colors as the sun slowly begins to rise.

I have to be the worst mate in history. Well, my Father murdered his mate, so maybe a close second. Even if Rhysand did reach into my head and use me to brand them, I’d still held that iron, hadn’t fought it like I should have. Now, I can’t even say I made it right by getting them the hell out of here! I’m now actively giving them ways to stay, not just in the Empire, or in the arena, but in the middle of a game with my Father they can’t possibly hope to win. I should have pressed the issue harder. I should have ignored their call and waited til morning when Anise had found passage out of here and hauled them onto the ship. I most definitely should not be calling for a tailor as soon as the sun is up to make sure they’re fitted for clothes for this stupid parade.

I’m tempted to think Rhysand has found a way to make me do this for him, but I know he can’t reach me this far. The tether in my chest that links me to them feels strained from being so far away. It’s as if it’s a living thing beneath my skin that knows there’s too much distance between us.

Anise worms her way back into my room as I dismiss the tailor and tell her to send the healer my way for a report on the injuries the Illyrians finally let her treat once I’d left their room last night.

“I found what you were looking for,” she says as she shuts the door. I expected her to find an excuse not to do what I’d asked, especially after she’d given me the royal inquisition about what I’d been doing once I came back through the secret entrance last night. But her emerald gaze sweeps conspiratorially over my empty room, even as she hands me something that smells like a contraceptive tea.

I try to pass it off on my bedside table. “You know I don’t need this.”

“Drink,” she sits herself on the edge of my bed with a sigh. “Can’t have a boat disappearing into the Wastes while you grow with child.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Anise!”

She shrugs, “I suppose your Father would kill it anyway.”

“Get to the point, Anise.”

“Drink the tea first.”

To appease her, I pinch the bridge of my nose to avoid the awful smell and force the amber colored liquid down my throat.

“There’s a merchant ship that takes the long way around the Wastes to reach the Human Lands. Passage can be acquired for a hefty fee.”

“Not a problem,” my stomach rises in my throat and I have to take a moment to let it settle before finishing the tea.

“There is a matter of it only being available for another three days before it’s gone for six months.”

That complicates things. How am I supposed to convince them in the next three days that they need to be on that ship?

“Thank you for looking,” I pass the, now empty, cup back to her. “I will need you on standby. Hopefully, I can find a way to convince them to get on board before it’s too late.”

Anise chews on her wooden thumbnail. “There’s a rumor, around the house, that they’re insurrectionists, is that true?”

I push the curtain blocking the bathroom aside. I might as well change and prepare for the parade now. If I give myself enough time, maybe I can slip back into the secret passage and strategize with my stubborn set of mates on how we handle today. I don’t like going into this blind, and I certainly don’t like having to be responsible for their well-being knowing that they’re just winging it.

How have they managed to get this far?

“More or less,” I say as I slip my sleep clothes off my shoulders. I frown at my reflection in the mirror. Too thin. Too pale. I need to get back into training; I need to get some color back into my face. All my clothes hang a little too much off my shoulders. Mother would have never let me hear the end of it if she knew how long I’d wasted away in this house over her. She hated mourners. Hated having an excuse not to be on top of training, in every area of life.

“And what-” Anise comes to stand in the doorway, frowning at the outfit I’ve chosen for the day. She snatches it out of my hands before I can put it on and comes back with something cobalt instead. “-do they have on you?”

“I don’t follow?”

“What are they using against you to get you to do this for them?” She fusses over the loose fabric, lining the seams up along my shoulders, tucking in loose bits of cloth here and there, slipping other strands through a golden belt around my waist.

“You think they have some kind of leverage on me?”

“I think this is unlike you. I think you’ve been a shell of a person locked in a dark house for months and months and suddenly now you care about parties and parades and those gods-awful Games. It is strange. I think I should send for a Healer to look at your head.”

I let her fidget and fuss so she has something to take the edge off her anxiety. “I went to plenty of parties and parades… before…” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.

“You went for her, because she forced you too, this is different. You keep insisting there is nothing sexual happening, yet you drink the tea and sneak into their rooms and won’t tell me what’s going on.”

I turn away from the mirror to look at her, reaching for her gnarled hands. “They’re good males, I just want to help them, is all. Father doesn’t exactly smile on simple favors.”

She huffs, “Your heart has always been bigger than your head.”

“I feel… kind of like I’ve been asleep for a long time and when I woke up I didn’t recognize who I was in the mirror. I’m just trying to find myself again.” It’s the closest to the truth as I can get. “I’m sorry that I’ve worried you.”

She frees herself from my grip to touch my cheek gently. “Just promise me that you will be careful. If anything were to happen to you…”

“I promise.”

She nods then takes my shoulders and spins me back to face the mirror. “Good, then let’s fix this awful hair of yours!”

Better to have her focusing on making me presentable than all the possible dangers we have to face just by leaving the room. I feel terrible, leaving her in the dark about it all, but I can’t tell her the truth, not yet. It is too soon; it leaves too much to chance. I still have hope that I can find a way by the end of the day to convince them to get on that boat and then she will never have to think about it again. The worst will be behind us.

I may have underestimated just how bad this was going to be.

For one thing, I didn’t anticipate Amarantha showing up at the front gates before I had a chance to slip into the Illyrians’ room. Let alone bring a whole entourage of slaves and guards, all painted in her colors and dressed for the parade. The sight of her in my sanctum makes me want to start hurling things at her head, but I manage to keep a poker face as she dismounts from her chariot, pulled by a white horse with a speckle of gray across its glossy coat. One of Father’s prized war horses; a gift from a battle years ago.

“General, you honor me with this surprise visit,” the words taste like bile. Why is she here in my place of refuge? She’s never bothered to venture this far away from the Capitol before.

She glances around warily, like something might pop out of the sprawling gardens and bite her. “I came to check on your progress.”

“How kind of you.” I intentionally don’t draw attention to the path that leads to the guest house. “Would you like some refreshments? You must be tired from your journey.” The last thing I need is her poking around.

“No. We need to be on our way. I assumed you’d need help leading your new pets out.”

“Not at all. I have everything under control.” Bitch.

She grins but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Good, then let’s get moving, shall we? Don’t want to keep your Father waiting.”

This is all happening a lot faster than I anticipated, but I will have to make the most of it. Her being here means they were right last night, I really had thrown Father off his game. Now he’s trying to compensate by sending her to feel out how I’ve managed this far. I keep my shoulders back as I tell one of the guards to bring the males out. I must remain in control.

I must keep my well-trained mask of courtly manners in place.

That’s a lot harder when the second curveball of the day comes hurling my way: I’d sent my tailor with an order to find my mates suitable pants, boots, and tunics. We weren’t going to have the time for anything fancy. With a few more hours I might have been able to find armor suitable for a Gladiator to wear out in public. A moot point one way or the other, because they wouldn’t have worn it. Not one of them is wearing the outfit I selected. In fact, I’d barely call the swatch of fabric adorning their bronze skin clothing. It’s closer to a toga, one half of the beige fabric pinned over their left shoulders, draping down in gentle waves down their waists, where it eventually falls to their upper thighs, one side slit nearly all the way open. It leaves half their tattooed chests bare, the swirls of tattoos on stark display. There’s so much open across Rhysand’s ensemble that I can very clearly see the curvature of his ass if he’s standing in any direction that’s not looking at me directly.

It is an effort to keep my jaw off the floor. What the fuck are they doing?

I don’t know if the guards attached leashes to the gorsian collars around their throats or if they did that themselves; at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me.

“I’ve underestimated you, Highness,” Amarantha says.

The words might as well have been spoken by a fly, they don’t even register. I can’t stop staring at them, at the miles of bare skin and muscle on display. Ember did a good job putting them back together last night, the bruises fading, the smaller cuts and scrapes nothing more than a swatch of fresh skin. Rhysand’s arm is still bandaged, as are Azriel’s wings, but they do not drape on the floor today. They all stand ready, heads high. The posture feels like a challenge; they should be defeated, they lost the battle, they’re chained here to me, but they don’t look it. They command the space around them.

I feel a flash of pride when I look at them. Even with all my training, I’d never be able to be this confident. Despite all their losses, they haven’t given up.

“I might have to challenge your claim on them,” Amarantha says, her gaze lingering too long on Rhysand for my liking.

Something ugly and possessive rears its head inside me and all I see is red. My hands ball into fists at my sides as my powers flare in my palms. Keep it together! Keep it together!

“And miss the parade in your honor?” I say as sweetly as I can. “My Father would be so disappointed.”

She sneers at me, perfectly white teeth flashing, “Wouldn’t be much of a challenge for me, would it, Highness?”

I’ve never shown anyone the full extent of what I’m capable of; it would be too dangerous to unleash that much power on the world. It won’t do me any good now to try and boast about what I keep hidden beneath my skin. “You’ve done enough fighting, save the challenges for your Attor.��

She huffs as she climbs back into her golden chariot.

It’s not really a victory, but it is the best I can hope for. Time will be the only thing keeping her in check today. If it wasn’t for the parade, she might be tempted to keep pushing the issue, and as much as I’d love an opportunity to shove a blast of obsidian power through her chest, I have bigger issues to deal with. I can’t let her get in the way of the plan.

My mates watch the exchange closely. Azriel hovers a little closer than someone supposed to be shackled to me should. His shadows are missing. Hidden somewhere, maybe behind his wings to avoid detection, or the sunlight, but the intensity in his gaze reminds me that there isn’t anything happening he isn’t aware of.

Rhysand gives me the subtlest of nods as the stable boy brings my own horse out. Anise must have sent them for me; she’s undoubtedly watching from the window. I have never been more keenly aware of how many sets of eyes are watching my every move, which is saying something, considering I’ve never left this house without a squadron of guards or some form of chaperone. Every breath I take feels like it’s being monitored, which is unfortunate, because the next issue of the day becomes the moment I realize the guards left with the wagon yesterday and I don’t have any other horses. How am I supposed to get them all the way across the Capitol?

I’m out of my element. It’s one thing to freeze in front of some guards who don’t know me well enough to see the panic in my eyes, it’s entirely another to in front of Amarantha, who can smell fear like a fucking bloodhound. She won’t stop grinning at me either, like she’s a cat watching a mouse creep slowly up to a baited trap. We’ve just started this, I can’t already fail!

The invisible force that is Rhysand slips right into my mind again as panic freezes me in place. My body moves for me, tethering the leashes in my hand to the saddle of my horse.

Amarantha’s grin falters.

I am not making my mates walk behind me the entire time! This, somehow, feels worse than the brand!

But I can’t fight his grip on me. My shields were low enough, I’d forgotten to enforce them, he’d slipped right in and taken control just like he had yesterday. I can’t do this!

“You can,” that silky smooth voice is like a caress against the inside of my skull as he moves me into the saddle of my horse.

I can feel Cassian’s glare between my shoulderblades, as if he’s imagining exactly where he’d drive his sword. The tether that links us feels even more frayed than it had yesterday, as if someone is taking a knife and swaying it away fiber by fiber. Worse, that someone is me.

Rhysand brushes a mental hand down my spine and my whole body trembles as if it had been physical. “It’s all right. You’re just doing what we asked you too.”

Amarantha starts moving, the grin now a full scowl. This is not at all how she thought this morning would go. I’m grateful she’s so distracted by the failure that she isn’t paying attention to the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. This is beyond cruel and unfair!

“We’ve endured a lot worse than this,” he explains as he uses me to get my horse moving.

The collars around their throat rattle as they get yanked along behind me and I think I might never get that godsdamned sound out of my head as long as I live.

“When we lost that battle in Illyria, they kept all of my soldiers chained together, naked and bleeding in the snow. They made them watch as they burned our cities to the ground, with their families locked inside the Temple.”

Revulsion rolls its way through my stomach, as I flick my gaze to Amarantha; she’s always been a monster, she’s never bothered to hide it, but I’d never known the gory details. Father praised her for doing whatever was necessary to win, I knew that involved a lot of shed blood, but I’d never seen the true cost of her victories.

Maybe I’d never wanted to see. It had been easier to just keep my head down and accept that this was how the world I lived in worked. I’d been too terrified of what might happen if I challenged it; hell, I’d been too terrified of what would happen to even look at it. It had always been easier to turn and hide from it, withdrawing into myself where the monsters couldn’t reach me. How many people have I hurt by turning a blind eye?

“Amarantha made Cassian pick which of his men would live. Five out of every group of ten to be taken as slaves. The other five to be crucified. She did it in waves, five for every city we stopped at for supplies. Five to be a warning to the other Courts. Until we came to the Arena; then the question became which of us would fight and die. He chose us, so that, at least, the rest of his men may find a chance to escape.”

Rhysand won’t loosen his grip on me enough to let me turn in the saddle to look at them. He probably thinks I’ll lose my nerve if I do. My chest aches for them and what they’ve had to endure on the way here.

“If you hadn’t stepped in yesterday, Hybern would have killed Cassian and Azriel.”

“But not you?” His hold on me is not so strong that I can’t, at the very least, talk back to him. The connection soon becomes soothing, instead of like fighting against adamant. As time goes on, I can begin to feel the distinction in the tethers that link our souls. While they are still thin, and tangled in the heart of it, there is a glittering, starlight lined piece that leads me to him, and the connection feels like it builds on top of itself little by little as we go. Maybe the bond is not, totally, unsalvageable.

“I caught a glimpse in Hybern’s head. He was too far away for a good look, but I saw enough. At least for a little while, he wants me alive. I don’t know why. I assume to make a bigger display of my failure than Amarantha has already made, but I can’t be sure. I think that he might have let me live yesterday and killed them as punishment for speaking out. Judging by the way Amarantha’s acting today, I think that she expected to get me as a prize afterwards.”

My teeth clench involuntarily at the thought.

“I know that what I’ve asked of you is uncomfortable. It will be a hard role to play, but it is not without advantages.” Despite Cassian’s misgivings during their argument last night, him and Azriel had seemed to be in agreement that they needed me for this. If I cannot spare them entirely from pain, at least I can keep them out of Amarantha’s claws. A tiny victory, but still a victory.

The road ahead of us is long, physically speaking the trek into the city is several miles, and figuratively because there’s a lot of hoops to jump through and masks to wear and angles to work. This will not be an overnight endeavor. That ship with their freedom quickly feels like its slipping out of my reach.

“But are there not advantages to leaving while you have the chance?” There is nothing but a long, winding road lined with hills of rolling wheat between us and the outskirts of the city, I might as well make my attempt now.

“Not if it means abandoning my people.”

Stubborn male.

“This will be your Empire one day, do you not feel responsible for the people within it?”

As the sun continues to climb, so does the temperature. Sweat begins to bead its way across my hairline.

“It will not be my Empire,” I counter; especially considering what I had bargained to ensure their freedom. “My Father doesn’t think I know it, but he added a clause to his will that states, in the event of his death, my husband will take the throne.”

Through the mental connection, I feel him stiffen behind me.

And maybe because I’m desperate for any possible chance to push them towards that ship, I add, “And make no mistake, my Father has already chosen which male to pawn me off to.”

Anger flashes its way across the bond. A sign, I should think, that he at least knows there’s something there.

“He would leave you no choice?”

The question is laughable. For all the terrible things my Father has done, he truly thinks he’d still care about my consent in any aspect of my life? “He pretended for a while that I did, but his displeasure was always made clear. Not that it matters, now. I’ve already agreed to marry whoever he wishes.”

A growl works its way down the bond between us. “Why?”

“Did you think he would spare your lives for free?” A low blow and I know it, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how Cassian had called me a spoiled little princess who’d never felt the effects of this Empire. My suffering has been nothing compared to theirs. No life time could ever compensate for that kind of torture. There is no contest here. But I am not immune to my Father’s whims either and I need them to understand that this is not the better option. They need to be on that ship. And if they feel the bond at all, if there is any push to be near me, I need to use it to get them to see how dangerous it is to be around me. I can shield them a little bit. I can stand between Amarantha. I can stay my Father’s hand on occasion. But it will not last. Nothing lasts long against them.

Rhysand is silent for a long time. Long enough that I feel his grip on me slip away, allowing me to turn my head and watch the three of them. They’re keeping pace easy enough, even with the bandage around Cassian’s thigh and the added weight of the bandages around Azriel’s wings. But it’s their eyes that catch my attention: Glazed over like they’re not seeing me at all. I’ve seen that look before, when the twins reach into someone’s head. The collar must limit his ability to reach out to more than one person at the time. He’s withdrawn to speak with them instead.

I keep my shields down, waiting for him to come back, praying to the Mother that it worked, that they’re at least, reconsidering this foolhardy notion of theirs.

Amarantha’s men must have cleared the streets on their way down here, usually, the twisting pathways of hard packed earth are crowded with carts and beasts of burden as they tend to the budding wheat stalks, but there are none. It is a strange silence, there are usually workers singing in between the rows as they weed and water and remove pests from the grounds. No birds sing. It’s as if the whole area knows a red-headed predator walks among them.

I find myself studying her, careful not to let the rage I feel at the thought of what she’d done to my mate’s rises back to the surface. Silence has always been dangerous for me, it gives me too long to think. And right now, all I can think about is how easy it would be to blast her in the back of the head with the dark ether that prowls beneath my skin. One of her slaves carries her helmet, the dark horse hair plume billowing in the warm summer breeze. None of her guards rides close enough to block the blow. Sure they’ll be an issue afterwards, but they won’t be able to save her. She’d be nothing more than a blood stain in the rode.

And then what? What would it help? It can’t erase what she’s already done to them. Even if I could take out the guards and we all made a break for that ship, Father would never let it go. He’d blame them, probably lie to the people and say I’d been kidnapped or brainwashed into doing it, and then he and everyone in the Empire would hunt us down until we were dragged back or killed. They’d never have any rest. No, I need to get them to get that ship and I need to find a way to make sure that no one comes looking.

My head hurts. This is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. There’s a lot more pieces to play than just moving them onto a ship. I resist the urge to rub my temples. How could someone’s life become so incredibly complex in less than 24 hours?

Rhysand finally returns, his arrival a brush of night kissed shadow that contrasts the summer heat. “Why did you agree to help us?” His voice sounds farther away, it must be a tremendous effort to keep this up for so long around that collar.

“Because I didn’t want to be like him.” That is as close to the truth as I will allow myself to admit to anyone.

His mental hand brushes down my spine, caressing, soothing. I close my eyes for the briefest of moments to savor it. I should not let myself indulge it. I should push it away before he has time to understand why it means so much, but I can’t. I really am a broken, selfish thing, but I can’t push him away like I should.

“Has he given you a time frame for the marriage?”

“No, but I’m sure he will soon.”

As we crest a hill, the walled edges of the capitol finally come into view, Father’s crimson banner billowing from the parapets. As we draw closer, I can start to see another banner hanging from the great, stone walls: Amarantha’s familial crest, emblazoned on a black banner, the great beast in the center, edged in crimson. The shape of the crest always bothered me. The edges were never smooth and even, like someone had put too much ink on the pen, letting it bleed. Maybe that was the point. Amarantha’s whole family line had clawed its way to power by shedding someone else’s blood.

It’s jarring to see her banner hang next to my Father’s. No one has that kind of power in the Empire. Not even my Mother had the sway to earn a banner in her name, no matter the exploits she’d brought within the Capitol’s walls.

My stomach twists.

“Then we may need to rush our plans a little.”

I pretend to fiddle with something in the saddle so I can look back at him. Sweat drips down his forehead, trailing lines down his exposed chest. There is nothing short of sheer determination etched into every line of his face.

Beside him, Azriel keeps pace, shadows peeking out from behind his wings in agitated waves. A look that would be intimidating on its own, but only worsened by the promise of violence in his eyes.

So much for making the ship.

“Don’t be rash and do something stupid,” I retort, as the sound of trumpets draws my attention off of them. There’s a cluster of horses and people waiting up ahead. As we draw nearer, I can start to make out the familiar faces of Father’s Praetorian Guards. Then Brannagh and Dagdan, atop their auburn steeds, bought at a hefty price from the Autumn Court. And finally, in his own golden chariot, pulled by a prized war horse, a golden laurel wreath atop his salt and pepper hair, stands my Father.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I mean it, Rhysand,” I snarl when he doesn’t answer me. “If you do something stupid now he’ll kill all of you. No pleading on my part will save you.”

I’m suddenly not sitting on the horse anymore, the world around me spinning and twisting and the trumpets and horns starting to play along the roadside sound like execution bells. My stomach rises in my throat; heart echoing to an octave that sounds like beating drums. I can’t see them, I can’t see the parade of people assembling all I can see is my Mother in those awful, dull gray robes, stripped of all the finery she always adorned herself, walking right to the executioner's block in chains.

“Breathe.” I must have been holding my breath because the memory comes to a grinding halt before I can rewatch her head roll off her shoulders and Rhysand is back in my head, gently shaking the memory from my grip.

“It’s over. You’re all right. Take another deep breath for me.”

My horse won’t stop moving and I swear my Father doesn’t blink the entire time he watches us approach. That slate gray gaze, so similar to my own, is empty and cold and it pierces through me like an ice pick.

“We’re not doing anything today, remember? Just observing. We need to see what we’re up against.”

I have to fight every instinct not to turn and look at him. I need to keep my head up, I need to not look like I’m going to throw up all over the floor. I cannot ruin this.

Father’s mood shifts when he turns his attention to Amarantha, and smiles. “General,” he calls out, the horde of people surrounding him parting so he can move to greet her. “I see you had no issues on your way here.”

“Dick,” Rhysand hisses as I sit there getting ignored.

“Please, just stick to observing. I can’t…” I shake off the memory as best I can, embarrassed that I showed him in the first place. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

The bond flickers with understanding, a moment of shared grief passing between us. I don’t know what else he has lost, but the emotion that flits between us is enough to show me it’s not mere pity. “Don’t worry, there’s not going to be room to do anything in this crowd,” he assures.

And he’s right, starting at the open gates is a whole crowd of people, all waving flags and streamers and cheering. The whole city is packed against the main road, held back by a thin barrier or red tinted magic. Every house in the Capitol has to be empty. Someone has thrown roses down onto the road, the perfume so strong I can smell it from here.

Behind us, more beings begin to arrive. I note some of Amarantha’s commanding officers and a few Senators. A couple of the Lords who have bent the knee and submitted to Father’s reign follow.

Amarantha stands a little straighter as they approach, preening under all the attention.

A steward with a very long scroll shuffles around in the chaos, trying to organize everybody into rows, his shrill voice echoing above the crowd with a little help from some lesser magic. Drummond has been in the service of the Empire since my great-grandfather was Emperor, he’s gotten pretty good at getting people to listen to him.

We’re quickly organized into sections, with Father and Amarantha in the front and everyone following in line behind them by rank and station. There is a large gap in between where Father and Amarantha ride and where I sit with my mates, just ahead of the other nobility. My birthright keeps me close to the front, but the gap between me and them is noticeable. I am not a part of their inner circle, I’ve only ended up ahead of they’re favored elites because I have the face of the Illyrian rebellion chained to my horse. It is not as if I want to be close to them, in fact, the distance helps me breathe a little easier, but the space between my Father and I has never felt so visible. We are two ships on opposite sides of an ocean. Mother used to whisper, when she thought I couldn’t hear, that the Goddess had cursed him by giving him me. Not only was I not the son he’d prayed for, I was not even a daughter he could benefit from having. He’d tried to hide that from his closest confidants, it’s why he allowed the River House. It kept me close enough to not become a problem, and far enough away to hide his shame. It used to bother me, now I can’t help but wonder if perhaps there was a reason I’d never belonged here. Maybe the distance had given me the eyes I’d needed to see my mates for what they were. If I had been born different, if I had become someone like Brannagh or Amarantha, would I have ended up here?

My musings are interrupted by Dummond as he side-steps Cassian, giving the General a far wider berth than necessary as he looks back and forth between his scroll and us. “Hmmm, should be a enough room I suppose?” He mutters, pen furiously scratching in the margins of what looks to be a very well filled out list.

Cassian’s wings suddenly unfurl behind him, as if he’s stretching his arms, the great, leathery membrane catching the early afternoon sun, as the spiked tip catches Dummond in the back of the head hard enough to make him drop the scroll.

The aging elf gives a yelp of surprise as he skitters after it like it’s made of gold. “Gods-damned Illyrian brute!”

“Cass,” Rhysand warns as the guards shift in our direction.

“What? My wings were cramping,” Cassian counters, looking smug, even as he snaps his wings shut behind his large body. I could watch him do that all day. If I’d had the supplies, I’d attempt to paint the way the sunlight reflects the hints of red and blue, highlighting all the scars that map their way across his wings. How many battles do you have to fight to have scars like that?

Dummond scurries past us to intercept a caravan of wagons, keeping his precious scroll clutched tight to his chest this time. He’s always been a little skittish--who isn’t around my Father?--but today looks like it’s worn down his nerves. I can practically hear his knees shaking as he directs the wagons down the little path that converges on the mainroad. The closer it gets, the louder the sound of rattling chains becomes.

Grief consumes me, so hot and heavy the three of them might as well have screamed themselves hoarse down the bond simultaneously. It is an effort not to grasp at my chest, as if they’re pain is a physical wound I can hold in my hands. I don’t need to see what comes our way to know what it is, but their arrival plays out in slow motion ahead of us. The wagons are all built to be moveable cages, walls of gorsian stone bars holding in too many bodies to count. There’s a padlocked door at the back of each and when a guard swings it open, a jumble of winged bodies tumble outward. Chains clank and rattle and male after winged male gets shoved into even lines ahead of us. They’re all a mess of blood soaked bandages and dirt; the number of wings more twisted than Azriel’s had been is too high to number. Once a wagon is empty it is directed out of the way and another takes its place, just as full as the last. There has to be at least a hundred Illyrians, all shackled and beaten ahead of us.

Dummond stays a healthy distance from them, counting down the numbers on his list to ensure they’re all in place. Not that it would be necessary, none of them fight it. Most stand with their heads to their bare chests--gods above half of them are still naked!

Rhysand has withdrawn himself from my head again, but I can still feel his pain down the bond just as well. These are his people, and he can’t save them from this.

Cassian’s pain soon turns sharp as a blade, rage pulsing down the bond.

I wish I had the words to comfort them; the power to make this all stop, but I am as helpless as I always have been. No words will soothe this offense.

How could Father do this?

Dummond carries on as if he is organizing cattle. The guards use the butts of their spears to keep any male that moves too far from the group back in line. Their force is excessive. The blow knocks the already beaten males into each other, causing a domino effect that brings a third of the Illyrians down into the dirt. I can’t make out the words, but I can hear the whimpers of pain; hear the coughing and wheezing that comes from untreated injuries and illnesses that only come when too many people are crammed together for too long.

There isn’t enough time to process the full scope of what’s happening before a set of trumpets starts blowing from the city’s outer walls. Shit it’s starting!

It’s like a bad dream as the procession begins to move, Father and Amarantha first. There are mages positioned down the fairway, their hands outstretched towards the sky as they weave colorful ribbons of magic like streamers above our heads. The bands move in time to the music, flashing in Amarantha’s colors first, then Father’s. Small children throw more roses into the street as the Emperor and esteemed General make their way into the city.

“All hail the Emperor!” Roars the crowd. “All hail Amarantha the Conqueror!”

Conqueror. The Illyrian captives are forced to follow after them, shuffling on bare feet and boots that are falling apart across cobblestones that have to be burning as the sun continues to rise across the cloudless sky.

There are small children in attendance, sitting on their parents shoulders, waving miniature versions of Amarantha’s crest. This feels like the most heinous part of the whole ordeal; are we to encourage this brutality in our children? They let their toddlers throw roses and dance along to the music, enthralled by the light show that flashes overhead as the procession moves through the city.

Dummond makes sure to leave plenty of room between the last row of Ilyrians and us, as if they’re scared to let them get too close to Rhysand. As if, the mere proximity of him might incite an uproar all over again.

At this point I’d welcome it. I’d happily watch the whole procession go up in flames.

Power rumbles through my veins and I’m forced to tear my gaze away from the crowd to keep anything from escaping out of my skin.

“Steady,” Rhysand warns as we inch closer to the front gates. The crowd continues to cheer and celebrate ahead of us as the procession follows the path to the Imperial Palace several miles into the city. It will be a long road ahead of us, yet it feels like it’s been happening for ages.

“I’m sorry.” Sorry is not strong enough an emotion. No sorry’s will ever be enough.

“Do you see why we need your help?” He counters as a wisp of Azriel’s shadow crawls up my shoulder and dives beneath my hair. The little ether of power slithers like a snake up around my ear, hidden under my hair, observing with a gentle hiss. I wonder if he’s using it to see what’s coming ahead of us.

The road up ahead makes me wish he wasn’t here to see any of it at all. Being on the horse gives me a vantage point, lets me see around the corner we take to get to the heart of the capitol. The crowd has thickened even further here, bodies pushing up against the magic barriers, chanting and shouting to be heard. Except, the closer we get, the clearer the jumbled words become. As Amarantha’s chariot passes through, the noise soon turns from cheers and celebration to boos and curses. It’s the first hint that something is about to go terribly wrong and I feel my powers once again flair in defence.

The shift in the crowd is not the worst of it, even when they start hurling rotting vegetables and rocks at their captive entertainment. Blood splatters as someone gets hit in the head, nearly knocking down a whole row of males in the chaos.

I don’t even have time to flinch before Rhysand is once again holding me in place in the saddle. This time I’m not sure if it’s my nerves or his. The bond bleeds like an open wound between us, agony dripping into my consciousness.

More of Azriel’s shadows cluster beneath my hair, sitting like a snake, coiled and hissing as we go deeper into the city. This crowd will easily become a mob given the slightest provocation.

“Traitors!” The crowd shouts. “Send the Illyrian dogs back where they belong!”

The guards keeping the Illyrians in line don’t do anything to quell the crowd, letting rotting tomatoes and hearts of moldy lettuce get hurled like projectiles at a group of wounded males too beaten to fight back.

My stomach sits like a rock in my throat.

The deeper we get into the city, the worse it gets, and not just because there are more people here, but because, as we draw up to the center of town, there are crosses along the walkway, all holding a male with wings nailed to the cross beams.

The males in the front of the line freeze at the sight. One of them wails and falls to his knees, only to be forceable hauled up by the Praetorian.

“Crucify the lot of them!” The crowd roars.

“Send the bastards back to the arena!”

A rock comes hurtling towards my head so fast I don’t even have time to shield, my only saving grace Azriel’s shadow that goes flying out in front of me to catch it and let it fall to the ground beside me. Rhysand won’t turn to let me thank him; won’t let me do anything but keep my eyes straight ahead of me. Not even when I hear the sound of something hitting one of them.

I’d cry if I had the ability, but he seems to have locked that away from me too. I feel like a statue as we continue forward, slowly crawling towards the Imperial Palace, unable to move or react. Even as we pass closer to the bodies, blood still dripping from open gashes across their tattooed chests. Some of the males are, mercifully, already dead, but the street is long and the number of them soon becomes hard to track when you can just make out the ones still gasping for air. This is by far the worst thing I’ve ever seen the Empire do.

I tear my gaze away from the carnage to find my Father, waving cheerfully to the crowd ahead of us, as if this is some sort of game. How could one man be so cruel?

“Remember how I said you could ask me about that boat today?” Rhysand says, but his voice is strained. I can feel his pain as if it is my own and I don’t know how he, or any of them, is even upright. It’s debilitating. I feel it crawl into every crevice of my being. My muscles fight the hold he has on me to try and curl up into a ball to avoid it.

“Still think it’s a good idea?”

Like he can feel my gaze, the Emperor turns to catch my eye, one brow furrowed as if in question. For the first time in my life, I don’t shy away from the appraisal. Pain has walked alongside me my whole life, it has been a companion I have learned to hold hands with. But this? Having to live with the knowledge that these are wounds inflicted on my mates because no one has stood up to the Empire?

I’ve accepted a lot of shitty things in my life. I looked the other way when I couldn’t. But no more.

This ends.

And it ends with me.

“No. I don’t.” I snarl.

I can feel Rhysand’s grin through the bond. “Then welcome to the Rebellion, Princess.”

--------

Tag List:

@sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd, @urfunnyvalentin3, @mack234-blog1, @kissesfromnovalie

@marrass, @lia-h-r, @celestialzdiviner, @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Thank you all for your patience I know this chapter took me a little longer than usual to write! <3 As always, if you want to be added to the tag list let me know =)

317 notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 2 years ago

Text

(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #jeff stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #aka Grant

3K notes · View notes