#I WANT TO DRAW HER BETTER BUT I NEVER LIKE MY DRAWINGS SORRY
Text
Winner
Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art
Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk
*******
Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.
“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.
“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.
“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.
“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.
It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.
From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.
He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.
Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”
You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.
“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”
“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.
“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.
“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’
You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.
Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.
“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.
“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.
“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.
“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.
“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.
She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.
“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.
“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.
“Yes.”
“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”
******
The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.
Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”
“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.
He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.
The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.
As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.
At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.
When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.
****
“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.
“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.
“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”
Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.
“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”
Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.
“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”
“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.
“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.
You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.
The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.
“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.
“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”
“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.
“Exactly. Now cum.”
#challengers#tashi duncan#tashi donaldson#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#tashi x art#tashi x reader#tashi x art x reader#tashi duncan smut#fantasylandloserfic
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Precious Truths: Part 2
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.
Warning: physical assault - reader gets slaped on the face
Series Masterlist
Your gaze reveals the precious truths
The beauty that you see within
The bravery that I once never possessed
Your love is strength
Your love is pure
Your love is everything
-Arthur Talbot
You set your quill back into the ink jar and lean back in your chair, letting the ink dry. It's well into the night. Your father and aunt now sound asleep in their respective bedrooms. You find that late nights like these are the best times to write. It's when the world is quiet and you can indulge in your guilty pleasure of writing poetry. You're sure that if your father were to ever find out about this, he'd cast you out.
So your secret remains. Some parts of you felt like you should at least tell Benedict, for he's your closest, and dearest friend. However, you thought best not to. If the ton were to find out, it would be the end of you and you could never be one to drag Benedict down with you.
You can never do that to the man you love.
____________________________
You're in the sitting room watching as stands at Benedict at his easel, Colin and Greggory play chess, and Daphne coos over Auggie. Benedict works on his still life as you sit close by.
He frowns, taking a step back from his painting, "This is wrong. It's-Something's missing."
You lean closer to get a glance at his work, "Benedict, it looks beautiful."
"Are you sure?" he asks with an unsure look on his face.
You stand up and take a better look at the canvas, "Don't you artists always say beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" you look at Benedict with a smirk and then back at the canvas, "What you may find as unattractive, Benedict, someone else might find alluring and lovely."
You pat his arm and then plop yourself back into the chair you previously occupied. You go back to your reading completely unaware that Benedict is looking at you with absolute love in his eyes.
He hears someone clear their throat and he looks away to see Anthony staring at him expectantly, "I'm sorry, brother. Did you say something?"
"We're all going for a promenade. I believe we've all been inside for long enough."
You stand up, "I shall take my leave then, Bridgertons."
"Or you can join us?" Benedict immediately asks with hopeful grin.
You softly shake your head, "I don't want to intrude."
"Nonsense," Kate says as she enters the room, "We're always happy to have you, Y/N," she joins her husband's side.
"Well, I can't reject you, Viscountess Bridgerton," you give Kate a smile and Benedict is confused, "So you have no problem rejecting me?"
You laugh, "I'm only jesting, Benedict. I'd love to accompany you and your family for a promenade."
"Wonderful, let's get to it then," Anthony says, trying to gather his siblings together.
_________________________
You're following Benedict's younger siblings whilst said man was walking beside you. You're walking in silence, but it isn't awkward. Silence in Benedict's presence is never awkward, but rather comforting.
"I've realized something, Y/N."
"Yes?"
Benedict keeps his eyes on you as you two continue to follow his younger siblings, "You've always been very supportive of my artistic prospects, but I don't believe I've given the same curtesy to you and your poetic writings. I recall you enjoyed writing them when we were younger."
It warms your heart knowing that Benedict remembers of the times you'd write whilst he'd paint or draw. You let out long and deep sigh. Looking ahead, you reply, "Yes, well, I've given up those dreams, I'm afraid. You know how my father is about my indulgence with poetry. I have to be very careful. Even reading it and reciting it to the ton is risky. Luckily, my father is inebriated a majority of the time he's out and about."
"Well if you ever decide to return to writing poetry, you have my full support."
You nod, "Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it."
"Y/N," you turn to your right to see Daphne now walking beside you, pushing Auggie in his pram.
"Yes, Your Grace?" you stop and answer her with a teasing smirk. You're older than Daphne by a few years, but just two years younger than Benedict. You've always seen Daphne as a younger sister, being that you are an only child. Occasionally the teasing will produce itself between you two.
"Would you like to join us for dinner?"
You can't help but laugh, "Of course, but I've been spending my entire day with you already. Won't you all get tired of me?"
"We'd never tire of you, Y/N," Benedict replies with earnest and it brings a warm smile to your place.
"Be that as it may, I believe the Viscount should have the final word?"
Anthony, Kate, and Violet catch up to you as you're all looking at Anthony. He looks at you all in confusion, "Something the matter?"
Daphne speaks up, "I invited Y/N to stay for dinner if that's alright, brother?"
He shoots you a grin, "Of course. Miss L/N is always welcome. You're practically family, yes?" he shoots Benedict a wink and you're not sure why.
"Well thank you for the invitation," you look down at your dress, "But perhaps, I should at least change. This dress isn't particularly dinner attire."
"What do you mean? You look beautiful as always," Benedict states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
The Bridgertons all give each other knowing looks. That's when the Dowager Viscountess speaks up, "Benedict, darling, Y/N is right. After the promenade, we should allow her to freshen up before dinner."
Kate removes herself from Anthony and loops arms with you, "Let us continue our promenade, Y/N."
"Of course!" you giggle with your friend as you continue on the trail.
Benedict moves to follow, but Anthony pats his brother on the shoulder, "You've spent hours with her, brother. Let her take a break from you clinging to her all the time."
Benedict looks at his older brother in offense, "I don't cling to her...do I?"
"A bit, darling," Violet says and Daphne nods in agreement.
He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, "I'm too obvious, aren't I?"
Daphne shakes her head, "No, I don't think so. If you were, she'd have said something, yes? Or maybe would have run for the hills?" she asks with a smirk to her elder brothers, before continuing to push Augie down the path.
_________________
When you arrive back home to change, you ask the housekeeper, Mrs. Burnett, if your aunt is home.
"No, Miss, she's gone to meet with Lady Danbury," the older woman replies.
You nod, "Thank you, Mrs. Burnett," you gather your dress and make your way to your room upstairs.
You freeze when you see the door ajar and you know for a fact you closed it before leaving earlier.
You slowly push the door open and your heart drops when you see your father surrounded by pages and pages of poems. Poems that are supposed to be written by a man.
You gulp and slowly approach him as he sits at your writing desk, "Papa?"
His eyes meet yours in a cold and intimidating stare, "Not only have you still been indulging in poetry, but you're writing it? Under a man's name?"
"What were you doing in my room?"
"THIS IS MY HOUSE! I CAN BE ANYWHERE I PLEASE!"
You take some cautionary steps towards him, "Papa, you've had too much to drink."
"No!" he abruptly stands at your desk, causing you to jump ack in surprise. His chest is heaving as he tightly grips pages of your work, "If anyone finds out about this-"
"They won't! I've hid this from everyone for months!"
"You need to marry," he says with definitive authority.
You look at him with a confused expression, "What do you mean?"
"I can't take your defiance any longer!"
"Defiance?"
Your father walks around your desk so it's no longer a wall between you and he. He points a warning finger at you, "If you don't find a husband within a month's time, I'm marrying you off to your cousin, Albert."
Your jaw drops, "Cousin Albert?! He's absolutely horrendous! He's a rake and a gambler-"
"And looking for a wife!" he exclaims as he cuts you off, "When you were younger, your Uncle Wallace tried to convince me to have you two promised to each other once you came out to society. I regret not taking the opportunity now seeing how you've grown up."
You clench your fists in anger, "Mama wouldn't stand for this! She-
THWACK!
Your words are stuck in your throat, your cheek stinging after your father slaps you. His eyes are red and wild as he spits out, "Mama is dead! She is not here anymore! This is my house! You are to find a husband in a month or you are to marry Albert. Be grateful I'm not sending you away right this moment."
You're holding your cheek now, trying to soothe the pain. Your heart hurts for yourself and your mama. You know she'd hate the man your papa has become.
Without another word, you're rushing out of your room and bounding down the stairs.
Your aunt had just arrived back and you rush past her without a glance. She follows you in concern, "Y/N? What happened?! What's wrong? Y/N!" she yells after you as you run down the street back towards the Bridgerton household.
#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagine#f!reader#fem!reader#female!reader
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ARTIST OF THE WEEK @merryfinches ♥️
This week's aotw is Kylie who has bewitched us body and soul with her lovely art and even lovelier personality. Always there with a kind word, just all round a stellar human being, and someone who makes my day better anytime I see her on the dash. She was also game for answering a few questions:
Which do you use to draw (app/digital or traditional)?
I use Procreate on my iPad! I like being able to put it on my bag and draw anywhere - I don’t have as much time to draw as I want, so I do it in bits and pieces whenever I get the chance.
I love sketching with coloured pencils in my sketchbook too, I LOVE digital art, but there’s nothing like the texture of pencil and paper!
Fave brushes/pencils/mediums (links/screenshot?)
These are the ones I use most. The top 3 are all standard Procreate brushes. Chalk is my go-to for sketching and line art, and lightbrush and lightpen for highlights. I used Gingerbread Inker for colouring - it’s a free brush I picked up from somewhere, but I can’t find where!
Your favourite piece you've drawn?
Oooooooh, I don’t know! It’s easy to look back at basically every drawing and see the flaws, but this one of Ed and Stede in their inn is special to me, because I think it’s the first time I felt like I’d developed a comfortable style after messing around trying to draw them for months with… varying degrees of success.
And I’m really proud of the comic I drew of Ed having a nightmare, because i find comics so hard to draw and I’m in awe of everyone who does it!
Who's harder to draw: Ed or Stede?
Aaaaah, they both have challenges, but Stede I think? I prefer drawing his left side because of the way his hair swishes differently on both sides, and that side is easier. And he has a very particularly-shaped nose that can be really hard sometimes! Unless I’m drawing Ed’s leathers, in which case it’s him 😆
One essential tip for beginner artists?
There will be a point where you look at all your art so far and think “oh these are terrible, what am I even doing?” But that’s GOOD because it means you’re improving! And I’m sorry but that never stops - you will be improving forever! Nobody I know is ever really satisfied with their own art, and your art style is like your handwriting - it’s unique to you.
Also, get a sketchbook and a pencil, make mistakes, practice drawing your own hands and feet, screenshots, your cat, anything basically. And remember it’s supposed to be fun 🥰
Why OFMD? 🥹
Because it’s the fucking BEST! 😎
No seriously, I guess I like drawing Ed and Stede so much because they’re everything. Love, sex, tenderness, fun, cuteness, heartache and joy. Two souls who are so insecure and alone, and then they have someone who GETS them, who loves everything about them. They’re just wonderful.
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speaking of summer i don’t see a lot of people drawing the lines between summer and maria but it gives me much to chew on because. how does a legend just disappear? you never showed your face. most of us came to accept you were probably dead. you shouldn’t want to be like me, i’m nothing but a disappointment
(all this to say i would not be surprised if we see summer wearing a mask like the grimm reaper)
:)
"during his years of travel, he heard the same frightened whispers that spoke of a terrifying sorceress who commanded dark powers in the wilds among the beasts and monsters…" how does a legend just disappear?
no matter where or how he lived, her presence was always felt (he had to destroy salem, ruby says). how could such powerful bloodlines be so rare? (salem, ruby says).
it’s like.
the witch in the woods among beasts and monsters / the warrior in the woods swept away by monsters. how does a legend disappear? (when you finish a story, ozpin writes in the afterward, turn the page and start a new one. or of course you may always read this one again.)
& then summer: the pages are torn and there’s no final chapter.
& then salem: truth will rise/revealed by mirrored eyes.
it’s like—maria wasn’t a legend; the grimm reaper was the legend she created to hide herself, to keep her powers a secret. but!
TOCK: Well, that’s a fancy trick now, innit? ’Fraid it comes with a price, though, love.
MARIA: I don’t think you realize who I am.
TOCK: Course I do. You’re the Grimm Reaper, and these are the last sixty seconds of your life.
tock hunts down the grimm reaper, by following the light, and then kills her. the grimm reaper was a silver-eyed warrior. shatter the mask, cut out the eyes, and the legend dies. maria lives on to haunt her own story; most came to accept the grimm reaper was probably dead, but maria still lived, and no longer hid her face.
who was maria calavera, really? what was left behind, under that mask?
salem lives, but the woman you hold dear in your memories is gone. this is a circular story…
"i’m nothing but a disappointment." and "it's... comforting, seeing that your generation seems up to the task of inheriting this world. i'm just sorry i didn't do more to leave it in better shape."
& summer: "and all the times i swore that it would be okay/now i’m nothing but a liar and you’re thrown into the fray"
"a huntress is supposed to fight to the bitter end, but after i lost my eyes, i only ever looked after myself. […] i was afraid to fight."
& qrow, on what summer would have done if she’d learnt the truth: "pressed on, i think."
& salem: "and so we must… press on."
(waves vaguely also in
summer rose as the mask ruby wears and her ghost in the mirror.)
there’s this motif of like
a mask is a legend. a fairytale is a mask. a hero is not a person, a hero is a story. legends and fairytales scattered in time/maidens and kingdoms wrapped up in a lie—this is the end/here’s where you’ll die—the pages are torn and there’s no final chapter—you were born to hypnotize them all—truth will rise/revealed by mirrored eyes. in this story about taking off masks…
well.
you never showed your face.
everything we know about summer rose suggests that no one ever really knew her; the legend, the silver-eyed warrior, the paragon. the mask. and… then she found salem, and the legend died, the story ended, but the pages are torn and truth will rise revealed by mirrored eyes. you know?
it’s akin to what the narrative does with the maidens in that to become a maiden is a terrible burden and an inescapable duty… unless you’re cinder fall, and then it’s an act of self-liberation, a choice, a way to defy her destiny. right. a silver-eyed warrior is a legend destined to live and die fighting grimm… unless you’re summer rose, who chose to reach out and clasp the hand the grimm held out to her. you were born to hypnotize them all / truth will rise, revealed by mirrored eyes. insofar as she killed summer rose, salem killed the legend; she tore off the mask.
there are perhaps practical reasons for summer to don a mask at beacon, if disguising her identity is important for salem’s plans, so i wouldn’t be surprised if she’s introduced to us in the present wearing like, a beowolf mask to cover her face. but i’d bet on it coming off the instant salem enters the scene, too.
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I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THE HAUNTED HOUSE GANG AND I LOVE ALL THE CHARACTERS BUT LIV GOT MY ATTENTION FIRST AND I FUCKING LOVE HER!!1!11!1!1!!
#quick doodles i did when the spooky short came out#Idk where I got the hc from the rubber duckies#but my brain just said yes#I WANT TO DRAW HER BETTER BUT I NEVER LIKE MY DRAWINGS SORRY#duckling...#spooky month#spooky month fanart#fanart#sm liv#doodles#ms paint
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god why can't I have a normal conversation I can't do anything for two fucking minutes without something clicking deep in my brain that it decides it can't handle this even though it was FINE before I fucking hate myself and my body and my brain why can't I just keep composed for one second without becoming a train wreck at the smallest goddamn thing
#im sorry for making you guys read about my problems#i want to ask my mom to help but shes asleep and everytime i wake her up for anything at all she gets mad#god knows what she would be like if its something stupid like this#it never works when people try to help anyways im prsctically already dead#i couldve just had a good life if i just fucking kept it together but no i couldnt even do that#nothing works and the only options i havent tried are the things i cant do#i cant do drugs because damnit i saw what happened to my half sister when she was even involved with that#i cant smoke because it would fuck up my lungs and also id just be like my dad at that point#i cant take prescription pills because theyll do anything but even try to consider that#i have nothing i can do and all the healthy methods ive been taught are practically fucking impossible or just dont work#sure i can escape through fiction via writing but i fucking hate everything i write and the fact i write so goddamn much#when none of its worth it#and sure i can try and draw to make myself feel better but it doesnt work it doesnt make me feel anything at all other thn the feeling that#the fact i made a drawing it doesnt change my mood at all#sewing isnt relaxing because i end up just poking myself in the finger a thousand times and with some shitty fabric#thats barely held together#i am basically dead theres no changing it theres nothing i can do to fix myself or my life or how i feel#im just a walking corpse for people to talk to
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up the oranges? | max verstappen
face claim: none ᡣ𐭩
request: here !
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
👤 ybfngram, landonorris, mclaren
liked by ybfngram, landonorris and 83,928 others
y/nstagram bestie won paddock passes to mclaren garage and was gracious enough to let little noob me tag along! up the oranges or whatever she said 🧡
ygfngram it's papaya babe... but thank u for letting me rant about all things f1!! (and thank u for the lando pic i'm gonna be so insufferable from now on)
↳ y/nstagram wdym from now on?? but i enjoyed it! 🫶
user1 y/n and f1?? the crossover we never knew we needed
user2 please say you vlogged it!!
↳ y/nstagram ofc i did 🫶 coming next week!!
landonorris was lovely to meet you guys! :)
♥️ y/nstagram, ybfngram
mclaren if y/n says it's up the oranges, it's up the oranges... you're welcome back anytime 🧡
↳ y/nstagram sorry best friends.. up the papayas! 🧡
👤 landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,496 others
y/nstagram new vlog out now! the orange (😉) boys explain f1 to me, we take a look around the mclaren garages and a certain world champion sneaks in! link in bio 🧡
landonorris for someone who's never seen an f1 race, you picked it up pretty well!
↳ ybfngram not for lack of trying, she never wants to join my race nights 💔
↳ y/nstagram next time baby! girls night ❤️
redbullracing we think she'd look better in blue 👀
↳ maxverstappen1 agreed
↳user2 ARIANA? what are you doing here
mclaren back 🤺 redbull 🤺 back!
👤 y/nstagram
liked by landonorris, y/nstagram and 385,038 others
mclaren we must say, orange suits you y/n 🧡
y/nstagram thank you for having me back mclaren! the oranges are safe and sound in my kitchen 🫡
↳ user1 oranges??
↳ y/nstagram when i arrived, they had a bowl of oranges waiting for me... humiliating babes...
landonorris the highlight was her peeling oranges for oscar and patting his head like a baby
↳ oscarpiastri didn't see her peeling YOU oranges though 🤨
↳ y/nstagram that's ybfngram's job xx
↳ ybfngram i would have if SOMEONE would have invited me...
↳ y/nstagram you were literally on another continent grumpy pants
↳ mclaren next time we'll bring some oranges for you ybfngram 🧡
↳ ybfngram and that's why i'm a papaya girl for life 🧡
♥️ mclaren, landonorris
👤 ybfngram, y/nstagram
liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 593,957 others
redbullracing it's mr steal your girllll 🎶
mclaren ... y/n how could you do this to us
↳ y/nstagram MCLAREN ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.. you know i love you 🫶
↳ mclaren save it 💔
landonorris not you too 💔 ybfngram
↳ y/nstagram tbf i did have to physically wrestle the shirt onto her, dw she immediately went back to orange 🧡
↳ ybfngram lando sweetie... the papaya is in my veins... i was coerced...
↳ landonorris guess i'll have to bring you back to our side of the paddock 😉
maxverstappen1 i was right, she does look better in blue 💙
↳ user1 back of the line mr verstappen we were simping first
♥️ y/nstagram
↳ y/nstagram free red bulls for life and i'll back the blue
↳ mclaren wtf?
↳ maxverstappen1 consider it done
↳ christianhorner i don't remember agreeing to this max
👤 maxverstappen1, redbullracing
liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 92,495 others
y/nstagram alexa play the dutch national anthem 💙
redbullracing our favourite song 💙
user1 did max draw that himself 😭
↳ maxverstappen1 y/n made it for me!
mclaren y'all are cute or whatever...
↳ y/nstagram still love you mclaren 🧡
scuderiaferrari we spot our charles, maybe red will suit you too y/n ❤️
↳ y/nstagram if you can get me a ferrari, i'll consider it xx
↳ scuderiaferrari ... let us make some phone calls
↳ maxverstappen1 i will burn it to the ground.
↳ user1 ur so real for that max, fight for your red bull girl!
♥️ maxverstappen1
user2 y/n having all these f1 teams wrapped around her finger... what she deserves
👤 maxverstappen1, schecoperez, redbullracing
liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 132,842 others
y/nstagram back at it again with another f1 vid! this time i convinced the red bull gang to do a mukbang with me before mr MV1 zoomed off to win another race! 🫶 link in bio 💙
user1 bro max was so whipped in this video...
↳ user2 TRULY! she had him giggling and kicking his feet the entire vid
user3 how does it feel to watch y/n snatch ur man danielricciardo
↳ danielricciardo he used to giggle and tuck his hair behind his ears like that with me 💔 come home max, the kids miss you x
↳ maxverstappen1 fuck them kids
redbullracing poor checo thirdwheeling again...
↳ schecoperez to be honest i checked out halfway through
↳ y/nstagram nooo checo my king im sorry 💔 next time it will be just us two 💙
↳ maxverstappen1 not if i have anything to do with it
user4 WHIPPED
♥️ maxverstappen1
mclaren is this what it feels like to be cheated on? 💔
↳ y/nstagram my hearts big enough for both orange and blue 🧡💙
liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 963,956 others
redbullracing yo bro who got you smiling like that...
user1 red bull soft launching their drivers relationship?? admin on a scale of 1 to 10 how fired are you
↳ redbullracing i am declining all of christians calls...
↳ christianhorner see you at work monday.
↳ redbullracing oh its so over
maxverstappen1 can't believe red bull admin beat us to it y/nstagram 💔
↳ y/nstagram aaand i guess that was the hard launch
👤 maxverstappen1
liked by maxverstappen1, ybfngram and 150,385 others
y/nstagram so here's my bf(?) i guess... thanks redbullracing
danielricciardo stealing the second image thanks!
↳ y/nstagram 🫡
maxverstappen1 you couldn't have made it cute
↳ y/nstagram just showing your true personality babe x
maxverstappen1 love you or whatever 🙄
♥️ y/nstagram
user1 she's so real for these pics
redbullracing if it makes you feel better i did nearly lose my job
↳ user1 we got your back admin ❤️
user2 the first pic should be framed and hung in the louvre
♥️ y/nstagram, maxverstappen1
user3 why the ? by bf ???
↳ y/nstagram we never really made it official?? red bull did it for us i guess hahaha
↳ maxverstappen1 oh make no mistake, you're mine ❤️
♥️ redbullracing, y/nstagram
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What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k
Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy.
"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"
"Do you know why Y/N's upset?"
"You don't? You're the expert."
Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question.
"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test."
"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums."
"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–"
"Lovely?"
"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."
Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him.
"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully.
Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done.
"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did."
"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up."
Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't."
Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."
Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down.
"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you answer my texts?"
He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you."
You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."
"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…"
Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope.
"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.
"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth.
"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose."
"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine."
Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather."
The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing.
You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress."
You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years.
It only feels like years.
When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern.
"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath.
"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault."
"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone."
"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this."
"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain."
"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly.
Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you."
"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."
Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips.
"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips.
"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Steal My Girl
Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.
< 2
__________________
Perfect.
You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans.
Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches.
Fashion.
The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.
At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings.
The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric.
“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it.
So comfy.
Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.”
You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean.
“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out.
You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm.
“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast.
“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall.
Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France.
“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit.
“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back.
“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”.
“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.
“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out.
You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand.
The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls.
“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.”
You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him.
Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.
But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”
“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice.
Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for.
“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights.
“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back.
“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck.
“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table.
“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice.
“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.
“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.
“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.”
____________________
“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy.
“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of.
“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head.
“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game.
One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest.
“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho.
You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along.
You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well.
The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting!
Focus on the game!
You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo.
You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand.
“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks.
Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom.
Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?
#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#draco malfoy x reader#hogwarts oc#hogwarts au#harry potter#slytherin#ravenclaw#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#hp fandom#hp fanfic
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miguel with a jealous fiance
-
“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.
you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.
but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.
Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.
miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?
god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.
“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”
scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.
“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”
jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”
“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”
with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.
sorry, jess. no promises.
you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.
and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.
it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.
as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.
but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.
“i just think, that you are sooo-“
“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”
miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“
“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.
a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’
the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.
“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“
with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”
miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.
she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“
“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”
the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.
the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.
“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“
“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”
she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.
“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”
jealous. you hate that word.
everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.
“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”
miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.
bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.
he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.
you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”
“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”
rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”
he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”
you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.
yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.
“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”
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Dress.
Summary: After a mission where they crossed a line, Bucky decides to talk about what happened that night with you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.
WC: Almost 1600.
TW: Avengers kind of things, talk about weapons, sad reader and sad Bucky, misunderstendings, agents talking shit because of jealousy, SMUT (do not interact if you're not +18) some kissing, dancing and boners lol, semi public make out, oral (f recieving) fingering, hint of other things but not so much because I'm so bad a t this, sorry, let me know if I missed something.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
You hated everything that night, the happy people who were eager to get drunk and forget about the ending year, the music too loud that didn’t let you think, the beautiful dress you bought for that very occasion specifically because you wanted to impress a certain super soldier in the New Year's Eve party but that was before last mission, before you messed it all up.
If you closed your eyes, you could see everything playing perfectly in your mind, how unprofessional you were, how much space Bucky put between you two in the quinjet, the tension that followed you the last days and the words of the agents who probably knew about what happen from him. It was a disaster and you wouldn’t escape from it, Tony would never let you go without an explanation if you requested a transfer to another area.
Distracted, drinking your problems you didn’t noticed Bucky’s gaze tearing apart the pretty gold dress you were wearing as if he could feel your skin against his like that night.
It was a simple mission, find the target, watch it until Valkyrie and Wanda could secured the evidence –an arsenal of Asgardian weapons- and then arrested everyone but your cover was necessary and thanks to your powers, the ability to manipulate brain’s perception to make your audience see what you want- make you perfect to blend with him in that shady club pretending to be just a couple looking for a good time.
Easier to say than done, Bucky fought his boner all night with you dancing too close to him, whispering things in his ear, sitting in his lap… sure you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you there in front of everybody, he indulged in his little fantasy when he feel your own arousal, he told himself it was for the mission when he took you to a semi empty corridor to kiss you dumb.
You tasted better than he imagined, like honey and salvation, Bucky was sure that if he kept kissing you he would find heaven.
“Are you ok, terminator? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm” Sam pulled him out of his mind just in time before he got in trouble righ there in the middle of the party.
“I’m fine” he wasn’t and Sam let out a chuckle.
“Just go and talk to her, you can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”
You were avoiding him, Bucky just gave you space after you walked away from him when the mission was over, like he didn’t almost cum from having you exactly where he wanted you, with your perfect legs around him with just a thin layer of clothes between you.
“I said I’m fine” he said again, not looking at Sam when you made your way to the elevators, going after you.
It was better for you to leave early, too many drinks and you could end up crying or doing something you’ll regret, like talking to Bucky, who jumped in the elevator you called before the doors closed.
“Going to bed already?” he asked and you stared at him like an idiot, how could he look that good all the damn time? A black suit and white shirt shouldn’t make someone that hot, it was cheating “are you alright, honey?”
How have you missed his voice! A simple taste of him and you wanted more, you wanted him to touch you like that night, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like if time was against you both and every second he wasn’t making you feel all of him was a sacrilege.
“Why are you here, Bucky?”
Cornered, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, drawing his attention to your breasts, the memory of his lips pulling softly at your nipple made you want to close your legs to get some sort of friction, trying to calm the need for him.
Like he could read your mind, he licked his lips, wanting to pull your dress and bury himself in your chest but Bucky needed to have a conversation with you first.
“Are you going to avoid me forever, hon?” the super soldier lifted your chin to make you see him when you set your eyes in your heels “I can take a rejection, sweetheart but not you shutting me out completely.”
Bucky had made lots of friends with time but you were his first one, he didn’t want to lose you; you, in the other hand, were more confused than ever.
“What rejection? If anything, you’re the one who is not interested!” boldness coming from the alcohol made you talk before thinking about stopping “and don’t give me that look James Buchanan Barnes, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”
The elevators door opened and you stormed out, going to you room, the audacity of that man!
“Can you explain to me what are you talking about?” Bucky took your hand and made you face him when you reached your door, all his cocky attitude was replaced by confusion.
“Please don’t pretend you didn’t tell Carla and Ashley what happen that night, I heard them talking the morning after in the gym” Above all the embarrassment there was hurt, you thought he could be trusted but Bucky proved you were an idiot “they were talking how you hated being assigned with me and to pretend to make out with me.”
Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, what the hell were you talking about? He didn’t say anything, at all but you looked so sure he couldn’t speak.
“You made it very clear putting distance between us in the ride home but you didn’t have to tell them” your voice trembled, still you refused to cry, if that was the kind of man Bucky was, he didn’t deserve your tears.
“I swear I didn’t say anything, honey, I swear” he promised, making himself small to look at your eyes “I don’t know how they know, please believe me.”
You shake your head; you wanted to believe him but…
“I told no one, I really thought you were mad at me for taking advantage of the situation, that I misread it” he mumbled, desperate to prove you he was telling the truth, taking your face in his hands “I should have been more professional, more of a gentleman, ask you properly on a date, not acting like that, no matter how much I wanted it. That’s why I put space between us; Wanda and Val were looking at me like they would spray me with cold water if I breathed near you.”
Bucky wished you could read his mind to see he was honest but you still could, sensing his desperation matching yours.
“Do you really mean that?”
His heart broke at how unsure you sounded, he would spend every day of his life proving to you how much he meant it.
“I do, honey, you’re not only a friend to me, why do you think I requested to be with you in that mission?” with his arms around your waist, you put your hands in his chest to feel his heartbeat “I can’t be apart from you, I needed you close while I was gathering courage to confess my feelings but then I couldn’t hide it and…”
You interrupted him to kiss him, not giving a damn about anything but Bucky’s lips in yours. He opened the door and you took him with you to your room, tossing his jacket to the floor and taking your heels off.
“You should keep them on” he said between kisses, guiding you to your bed.
“Maybe next time” you promised, opening his dress shirt, he gave you a smirk while he took it off, like he couldn’t wait.
“This dress has to go, even if I love it.”
“I only bought it for you to take it off” you confessed, mesmerized by his hands undressing you before he placed you softly in your bed, earning a grin from him.
“Really? Well, you deserve a reward for thinking about me, honey”
Before you could ask, he was with his knees on the floor, ripping your panties to eat you out like he needed it to keep breathing.
It barely gave you time to let out a lewd moan that only encourage him more, putting your legs in his broad shoulders, nipping at your sensitive bud and teasing your entrance with his fingers.
It was real? It was the alcohol? You could think so if it wasn’t very improbable, your imagination couldn’t make this up, not something this good at least.
“Please” you begged and he shove one finger in you, then almost immediately another while licking you and going back to your clit, moaning at the taste of you, humping the mattress to get some relief, especially when you pulled at his short locks, making him groan.
“Bucky! Pleaseplease…” were the only words you could form but then he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue and you were gone, the orgasm hit you like a thousand waves and you could swear you fainted for a second, only coming back to yourself when you tasted your own arousal in his kiss.
Surprised to being this responsive with him, you kissed him back and he looked at you, fire blazing in his eyes.
“Come back to me, honey, we are just getting started” he promised against your lips and dear God, he was a man of his word. Hors later, the fireworks were loud enough outside but you both couldn’t care less, you finally have what you wanted: each other.
So this is my first time writing smut and I wanted to do it for New year's Eve, it was fun! Tell me what you think and happy new year!
Love, Lily.
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes angst
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Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭
Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.
One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.
At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.
It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.
The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.
He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.
“My dream boy!”
Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.
Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.
That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.
Tall – check.
Dark hair – check.
Sweet – check, well to you at least.
Brings me flowers – check.
Calls me princess – not check.
Princess, huh? That was new.
He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.
A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.
--
Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.
He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.
“Baby?”
You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”
“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”
Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”
You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”
“You like them, honey?”
“I love them.”
Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”
Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.
“What are the giggles for?”
“Nothing…”
He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.
“Y/N?”
“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.
“To be called what?” he asked.
“Princess…”
“I know.” He smirked.
“What do you mean?”
“I read it in your diary.”
“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I found it through your old stuff.”
“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”
“I’m sorry!”
“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”
“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”
“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.
The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.
“What else did you read?”
“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”
“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.
“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.
“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”
“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”
“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”
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tw: smut and fluff, use of safe word, breakdown (Michael), afab!reader.
author note: inspired by his current situation in the manga. And the fact that I miss him. "I miss my wife, Tails. I miss her a lot."
This wasn’t the first time Michael acted like this. Mouth biting into your neck, and hands furiously groping into your fat. Not even a hello before barging into your house, not a single care about what you were doing a second prior; he wants and takes.
You don’t mind that much, a rough fuck is a nice change and it’s not like he ever wants to hurt you, he just needs to release healthily some pent-up anger, and helping him out brings a lot of pleasure to you too. You don’t lose any time in the living room, your legs steady around his hips while he brings you to the bedroom, while his teeth mark the soft flesh of your neck.
The bed creaks under Michael’s thrusts, his strong fingers leaving indents on your skin, moans reverberating in the room. The blonde blue eyes never search for yours, his red eyeliner smudged in the corners. Michael bites his lips until he draws blood to not let any sound escape, something unusual since you tease him for how loud he usually is.
“Michael, red.” But more than that particular is different this time, something hurts and you need to take a break.
But he doesn’t stop, mind lost somewhere else, not with you. Thankfully you are in a position where you can easily move. You sit up, hand gripping his chin to finally be able to see him straight into his eyes. Michael doesn’t stop, if anything his trust only gets deeper, making you wince in pain.
“Stop Michael, you are hurting me.” There is no real anxiety in your voice, you trust him, but there is a hint of anger mixed with pain for obvious reasons.
It’s not the first time you used the safe word, but this time Michael cracks, hips finally stopping. His mouth falls into a deep frown, irises twitching and you can see a sea of anxiety into them, so deep and hurtful that soon fat tears roll down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry-“ He gasps out, hand covering his face, head down in shame. “I can’t make anything-I’m a fucking mess.” Shivers run down his spine, muscles all over his body twitching and not of pleasure.
“Michael-“ You sit up on your knees after pulling him out. “Look at me.” You softly ask. Michael refuses, face covered by his hand and soft strands of blonde and blue hair. “Michael, don’t worry.” You coo, kissing the top of his head while hugging him, drawing small circles on his naked back. He keeps gasping in your arms, face still hidden, but this time in the nook of your neck.
“C’mon look at me, baby” Your voice is saccharine, trying to make him feel as at ease as possible. He doesn’t listen to you, blabbering excuses on your skin, tears now rolling down your back for how copious they are. “Shhh Michael.” You lift his face, your hands cupping his cheek to make sure he has to look at you. His eyes are red, and the pout hits you harder than a stab at your heart.
“It’s not about the safe word, right?” Michael shakes his head in your hand, eyes squeezed close, long blonde lashes sticking together due to the tears. You kiss his eyelid, as fast and as delicate as a butterfly, before asking your boyfriend to open his eyes.
“I think I may know a way to make you feel better? Wanna try?” Michael nods, one hand intertwining with yours before kissing between your palm and wrist.
You take it slow, your lips drifting from his cheek to his jaw, following an invisible path that will lead to his tranquility. Your hands push to his chest “Lay down baby, relax I’m here.” You whisper and it’s enough to convince him, relinquishing the control he so likes to have.
Your lips meet his, and you can taste the salt of his tears on them. It’s a slow dance, no hurry behind your movements, not in your kisses nor in the sweet caresses of your hands. You stroke his dick, grown soft due to the breakdown, making Michael mewl into your mouth, arching his back cutely under your movements.
You lower your core on his dick, making a soft whimper escapes both your throats. It feels so deep, filling you so perfectly you almost think you were crafted for each other. Your hips slowly grind into him, your hands finding purchase on his muscular thighs, immediately flexing under your soft fingers.
“Michael, you feel wonderful-“ You gasp, mouth shaped in a cute ‘o’. The blonde under you bites his lower lip, before looking away, not being able to hold your love-filled gaze.
“No, no baby.” Your hips stop moving while you crouch down a little, hands again on his face, turning it to you “Look at me, look at how happy you make me.” Your lips are again on his, sucking on his tongue with no finesse, the calm of before brushed away from the passion blossoming into your heart. Your hands wander to his, still gripping into the white cotton covers, afraid to touch you.
You pull his lower lips with your teeth before breaking the kiss “I wanna feel your hands on me.” It’s an order and Michael doesn’t have the strength to refuse, your softer hands on his rough ones, guiding them towards your waist.
“Only you-“ A gasp breaks your voice “Can make me feel like this” You start to raise your hips up and down his length, thighs already burning, not used to doing the hard work, your partner too used to be in control in any position.
Michael looks like a work of art under you, blue eyes a shade deeper thanks to bliss and lips a delicious shade of red. His abs twitch at your every moan and you can’t resist the temptation to caress them, feeling them under your hands before going to his chest and squeezing his pecs, and playing with his erect nipples that were just screaming for your attention.
You can’t go on for much more, your thighs burn and your apex is approaching, and not just yours.
“Michael, I-I love you.” It’s nothing earth-shattering, words that you both told to each other on various occasions, but a gear clicks in the blonde mind, his fingers gripping tightly onto your skin, for sure leaving signs that will be evident the next day.
He sits up, manhandling your legs around his hips, his forehead knocking against yours.
“Say it again.” He orders, voice hoarse. His hands gripping your middle again, his words sending a shiver down your back.
“I love you, Michael.” You whine, but the sound is broken by his lips on yours. His hands now forcefully pushing you up and down his length, giving you the possibility to fully enjoy him, for your mind to just be filled in pleasure.
“You are so good-“ Your foreheads brushing against each other, sweat mixing and eyes tearing in pleasure, making it hard to open them up. He pushes you even more towards his body, making you feel every curve and twitch of his body against your softer one.
“I-I’m near-“ You blabber out, but you don’t need to add anything, his tattoed hand moving towards your clit, massaging it with a calm that doesn’t suit the actual situation.
“I love you too.” Michael mewls into your ear, licking the shell.
It's the straw that breaks the camel's back, you slump in his arms, the moans that leave your mouth a telltale sign that you reached your apex.
“Baby, hold on a little longer-“ Your boyfriend gasps, finally looking at you, with no trace of the previous shame.
You feel him twitch inside you, but you don’t feel as overstimulated as you should, your walls still gripping his thick length. Your eyes roll at each of his thrusts, now arhythmic and harsh, desperate for pleasure.
“Look at me.” You have no strength left in you, so Michael takes the matter into his own hands, holding your cheek, almost squeezing your face, not being able to perfectly control his strength.
“You are beautiful-“ He is able to whine one last time, before cumming, tension leaving his body, head turned back showing you his Adam’s apple bobbing.
He lays on his back, eyes closed, pushing you on top of him. His breath is frantic, still recovering from the orgasm.
“Wait-How are you?” His eyes snap open, looking at you remembering how he overstimulated you.
“No, Micha, don’t worry.” You caress his face, brushing away some blonde hair glued on his face due to the sweat. You pull yourself off from him, making you both groan a bit.
“I’m taking a bath, you wanna come?” You ask, smooching Michael on the cheek, your hand caressing his biceps, a gesture he seems to enjoy since he relaxes under your touch.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Michael brushes his eyes, red from the tears and the eyeliner being irremediably smudged.
“You want to talk about what happened before?”
“I don’t want to bother you with my shit.” Michael snaps back.
“It’s not shit, and I want to help you. When you are sad it’s like I get stabbed in the chest, you know?” You reply your chin on his chest, pulling the best puppy eyes you can muster.
He looks down on you, thinking for a minute about it while brushing your hair, making you purr under his touch.
“Okay then, let’s talk about it while we bathe.” Michael accepts, kissing the top of your head.
You kiss him, a big smooch full of cheer. It’s always so hard to make him open up, but you hope the soft atmosphere will make him melt and finally open up to you.
#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk smut#blue lock smut#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser smut#blue lock x you#bllk x you#look if we don't get his past this week I'll implode
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Home.
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI
Based on a request you can find here <3
Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother, vaginal sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, praise, making love
A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦
He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.
Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.
The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.
The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.
A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.
You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.
"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.
You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.
You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.
It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.
And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.
In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.
Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.
"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.
Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.
You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.
You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.
You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.
Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.
She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.
"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.
She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.
Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.
You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.
A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.
He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.
When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.
The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?
Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.
The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.
The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.
You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.
"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.
He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.
You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.
You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.
You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.
You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.
It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.
After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.
You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.
He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.
"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.
"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.
"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.
"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.
"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.
He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.
"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.
Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.
He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.
After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.
You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?
You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.
Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.
You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.
You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.
"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.
He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.
He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.
He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.
"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.
He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.
He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.
"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.
He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.
He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.
Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.
Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.
"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.
He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.
You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.
"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.
"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.
You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.
He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.
He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.
You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.
You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.
You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.
The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.
That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.
After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.
"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.
Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.
You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.
He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.
Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.
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Jealous girl
Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader
Wordcount: 5.1k +
Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.
Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected
(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)
I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.
I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.
I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.
We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.
So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.
At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.
So I reluctantly agreed.
There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.
Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.
Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.
We don’t talk a lot though.
★ ★ ★
I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.
But I have homework and-
My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.
“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.
“Chris?” I ask back.
At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.
I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.
He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.
“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.
“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.
“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.
“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.
After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.
“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.
I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.
Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.
We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.
“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.
“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.
“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”
That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.
“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Yeah” he chirps back happily.
Oh so now they were snapping too?
He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.
Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.
I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.
The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.
The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.
“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.
“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.
I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.
“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.
I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.
“Chris, I have shit to do”
that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.
“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.
“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.
I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.
I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.
Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.
Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.
Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.
It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.
“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.
“I mean it.” He answers.
But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.
The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.
I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.
“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.
I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.
Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.
And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.
Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.
“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.
She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.
I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.
We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.
We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?
My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.
“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.
He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”
I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.
“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.
Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.
“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.
“Y/n” he huffs.
“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.
“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.
But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.
★ ★ ★
The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.
She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.
It was just the same old recycled bullshit.
He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?
That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.
I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.
“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.
This was our weekly complaining session.
“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.
“Eva?” I nod.
“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.
“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.
“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.
I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.
After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.
★ ★ ★
“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.
I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.
It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.
I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.
“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.
“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.
The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.
Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.
We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.
We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.
Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.
I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.
Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.
“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.
Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.
Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.
“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.
“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.
He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.
I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.
I put my overnight bag on his desk.
“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.
He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.
I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.
He crossed his arms staring back at me.
“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.
“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.
“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.
After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.
“Shit you’re right.”
Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.
I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.
“I know” I say simply.
“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.
Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.
“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.
I walk up to the side of his bed.
I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.
We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.
“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.
Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.
His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.
He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.
I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”
“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.
He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.
“We can do both” he assures.
I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.
He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”
Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.
Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.
I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.
“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.
I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.
He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.
I pull away admiring his neck.
I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.
“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.
His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.
It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.
“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.
I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.
I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.
The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.
“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.
He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”
I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.
“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.
He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.
I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.
His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.
I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.
He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.
I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.
My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.
Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.
I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.
“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.
He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.
My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.
He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.
“Please ride me ma.”
He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.
I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.
I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.
I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.
He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.
I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.
He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.
“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.
I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.
It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.
I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.
The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.
“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.
Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.
I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.
His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.
I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.
“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.
“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.
My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.
I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.
“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.
I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.
“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.
I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.
“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.
He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.
I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.
I film his face and his reactions now.
His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.
“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”
I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.
my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.
I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.
After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.
He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.
Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.
But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.
I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.
“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.
He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.
As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.
He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.
“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.
“I’m kind of busy right now”
But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”
Fucking pick me.
“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.
She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.
I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.
I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.
He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.
He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.
“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy
He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.
My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.
“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.
He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.
He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.
He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.
He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.
I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.
“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.
“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.
“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.
“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.
He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.
And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.
The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.
Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.
We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.
He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.
He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.
He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.
He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.
“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.
I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.
“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.
I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.
I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.
“Were you jealous?”
My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.
“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.
“I never liked her.”
“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.
I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.
“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.
I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.
“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile
“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.
“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.
“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.
“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.
Masterlist
A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf
#soundcloud#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo x reader smut#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#SoundCloud
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Lois Lane is actually Ellie Phantom
Idea came from a comment @ourrechte-blog made on This post
So, back when Ellie was traveling the world, she saw quite a few things that she really didn't like. War Crimes, Humans Rights Violations, Poverty, etc.
And she really wanted to draw some attention to those problems, but she knew that as some random kid those stories would never receive the press they deserved. So she decided to Become the press instead.
She went back to Danny, who was also on the run, and they both got new Identities. Danny became Sam "Daniel" Lane, and Ellie became Lois "Ellie" Lane. (Also she reverted to her true age, so the ages matched up)
Ellie, now Lois, began to go to School so she could establish her new identity. Eventually, she managed to get to College, Graduated, and got a Job at the biggest newpaper she could, the Daily Planet.
She was now living her best life. She was a credited reporter, her dad was a Military General, and she was spreading the word about all the problems in the world that often got overlooked.
Then, one day, Lois met a really nice guy named Clark Kent. He was such a sweetheart, and had such a kind personality. She was immediately smitten.
Even Danny liked him, and Danny barely liked anyone for fear of them hurting his daughter.
And it got even better when she figured out that he was Superman, a Superhero just like her dad used to be. She proved it when she jumped off of the roof of the Daily Planet and he caught her. (She was never in danger, she can fly too. But she did decide that even if he wasn't superman, she trusted him enough to tell him that she had powers)
They got married, and one day Clark came home looking disturbed about something.
Apparently he just found out that a company called Cadmus had tried to Clone him.
She was not happy when he told her that he didn't want to accept the kid.
"Clark. So help me Ancients, if you left that poor boy alone and rejected him after he did nothing wrong I am going to string you up by your toenails and let my Uncle Fright go to town on you with his Magic Sword!"
"I-I know what I did was wrong honey, but why are you so angry about it?!"
"Clark, I'm also a Clone! You know I don't have a Mom, how did you never ask my dad or me about that!?"
"I thought he was dead or something! I'm sorry!"
"We'll talk about this later, let's go talk to that poor kid."
"Yes ma'am."
#Dp x dc#Dpxdc#Dc#Dcu#Danny Phantom#Ellie Phantom#Danielle Phantom#Dani Phantom#Lois Lane#Clark Kent#Ellie/Lois is mad at her husband#How could he leave that poor defenseless boy alone like that?#He would be sleeping on the couch for months!#Conner is adopted by Ellie/Lois instantly#No Clone Baby is going to be abandoned on her watch!!!#Danny is so proud#Less so about Clark but they can work on that#Danny became a general so he could take down the GIW from the inside#He succeeded#He chose Sam as his new name to either annoy Sam or honor her#Maybe both
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