#Me and Beyoncé will be looking each other eye to eye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fadedncity · 1 month

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

wc: 3.3k

pairing: haechan x fem!reader

cw: smut, bf!haechan, non idol au, alcohol consumption, switch!haechan, switch!reader, praising, teasing, oral sex (receiving), fingering, brief sensory deprivation, riding/cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names, marking, creampie, unprotected sex, small mention of other idols, small mention of aftercare

song rec: tyrant, sweet ★ honey ★ buckiin’, and riiverdance by beyoncé

a/n: i've been listening to cowboy carter nonstop ever since it dropped, gaining a shit ton of inspiration lmao. happy reading! 🤠

edit: yes title change per @iweirdthingsblog suggestion 🫶🏽

You tap your boot along to the beat of the song, creating a soft thud on the wooden planks below you. The bar hums with activity, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and sawdust mixed with the aroma of sizzling food and spilled beer.

Lanterns flicker overhead, casting dancing shadows across the room as patrons swirled around the wooden dance floor, their boots drumming out rhythms as they engaged in lively line dancing, their laughter mingling with the twang of guitars and the thump of the bass.

"Anytime today, Hyuck," you sigh, resting your chin on the end of your cue stick while you wait for Haechan to make his move.

"I'm thinking," Haechan says, his hand on his hip as he surveys the pool table. The warm glow of overhead lights illuminates the green-felt surface of the pool table you've been occupying for the better part of an hour.

Haechan's gaze is intense, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he calculates each shot. His fingers trace the edge of his cue stick, the wood worn smooth from years of use. Haechan leans over the table, his movements fluid as he lines up his shot.

The sharp crack of the cue ball fills the air as he strikes, the 5 ball nearly making it into the pocket but hitting the edge of the table instead, causing Haechan to curse under his breath.

You smirk, rounding the table to Haechan's side, confidence oozing from your pores, "Excuse me," you lean over the table.

You eye the remaining balls with a grin, your mind already calculating the perfect angle for your next shot. With a smooth stroke, you send both the 11 and 8 balls careening into the corner pocket, sealing your victory.

"That makes it what now, 3-1," you tease, savoring the taste of triumph.

Haechan hadn't really been paying attention to your game-winning strike, too distracted by you leaning over in front of him, especially in this outfit.

"You know, maybe if you weren't too busy staring at my ass, you'd have a fair chance at winning."

"Not my fault your ass looks amazing in these pants," Haechan smirks, stepping forward and pressing his body flush against yours.

The scent of whiskey and cologne clouds your senses as you refuse to back down and look away even under the immense weight of his heavy stare.

"Hey—Oh I'm definitely interrupting something," Michelle said, breaking the tension between the two of you.

"Just me running Hyuck's pockets dry," You break the eye contact, looking over at your friend.

"So nothing new then," Michelle waves off, "Well Yangyang lost in darts, so the next round's on him," she informs you both.

"Say less," You slip from between Haechan and the pool table.

Haechan closely follows behind you as you join your friends gathered around the table.

"To victory and defeat," Renjun teases Yangyang, causing the younger to flip him off as he downed the shot.

"To victory and defeat!" the group echoed, clinking their glasses together before tossing back the fiery liquid and slamming them down on the table.

"So," You wince, letting the slight burn of the alcohol pass, "Wanna go another round?" you ask Haechan.

"So you can take more of my money? No thank you," he says, setting his glass down beside yours.

"Booo you're no fun," you scoff.

Haechan's lips curled into a sly grin, "How about something that gives a more fair chance of either of us winning."

"Like...?"

Haechan's eyes scanned the room before landing on the rowdy patrons lined up for their turn on the mechanical bull, its metal frame gleaming under the dim lights. Cheers and laughter erupted as riders attempted to last longer than the previous one, their determination matched only by the wild gyrations of the mechanical contraption.

"The mechanical bull."

You accept the challenge with a smirk, eager to prove your skills once again.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "And why would I lose?" With a playful tug, you snatched Haechan's hat from his head and plopped it on your own.

Haechan chuckles, his gaze trailing after the hat. "Because, sweetheart, if you've forgotten, you're about as graceful as a newborn calf," he says.

A grin spreads across your face as you adjust the hat, determined to prove him wrong. "Oh, baby, don't be so sure you know everthing. I've got moves you've yet to see," you counter, your competitive spirit ignited.

"You sure this hat isn't too small for your big head?" Haechan teases, flicking the brim of the hat on your head.

"Oh I'm sure. Unless you're scared to prove me right."

"I just don't want your ego to be bruised when you're proven wrong," Haechan says.

"Okay, how much you wanna bet?" you ask.

"How about we make this a little more interesting?" he proposes, his tone suggestive.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "And what's more interesting than money?" you inquire, a mischievous smile on your lips.

"If you win, I'll go home with you tonight and we can do whatever you want," he leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "If I win, you'll come over to mine, and I get to do whatever I want to you," he says.

A chill runs down your spine as Haechan speaks these words in your ear. You swallow hard, trying not to make it evident how excited you are by his words.

"You're on, Hyuck."

"May the best rider win," he holds out his hand for you to shake.

As Haechan rose from his seat, a determined glint in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He ventured toward the mechanical beast, his confident stride drawing the attention of both you and your friends. With a smirk, you leaned over to the rest of the table, informing them of the bet you had made with Haechan, leaving out a few of the more intimate details to spare their ears.

"How long do you think he'll last?" Dosie questions as she sat up in her seat to get a better view.

Mark turns in his spot, his eyes trained on Haechan as he mounts the mechanical bull. "I'll give him 10, maybe 15 seconds," he wagers, a playful grin spreading across his face.

As the mechanical bull bucked and swayed, Haechan surprised everyone by lasting longer than 15 seconds, though he was ultimately thrown off before reaching the 20-second mark, much to Yuta's amusement as he operated the machine.

"Have fun trying to beat that, babe," Haechan calls out confidently as he approaches you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Have fun watching me," you wink as you stand to your feet, accepting the challenge laid before you.

Haechan switches places with you, his gaze fixated on your swaying hips as you walk away from the table. He watches you pass the pen, heading toward the DJ's booth where Johnny stands, whispering something in his ear. You exchange a knowing smile with Haechan from across the bar, a silent understanding passing between you as you prepare to take on the challenge.

As the music changes, signaling the start of your ride, you mount the mechanical bull with ease, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Once you have your balance, you let go of the reins and let the beat of the music flow through your body, trusting your hips to follow the movements of the machine to keep you upright.

Haechan watches you intently as you effortlessly command the bull, practically hypnotizing him as your hips move in sync with the music, and you make it look like the easiest thing ever.

"Tyrant every time I ride it, every time I ride it. Make it look so good-" The lyrics of the song ring out in Haechan's ears as he's unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Haechan's throat feels dry and can feel his cock stirring in his pants, watching you. His mind races, quickly disregarding any repercussions of the bet, wanting to take you home as the desire to have him be the one you're on top of grows with each whine of your waist.

The intensity of the ride increases, and you grab onto your hat, ensuring it stays firmly in place as you continue to ride with no hands, determined to prove a point to Haechan, all the while completely unaware of the turmoil you're subjecting him to.

But as your legs began to tire, you knew it was time to gracefully dismount the bull, bouncing on the airy cushion below before being helped up by Yuta.

"And we have a new record setter!" Johnny announces, causing the bar to erupt into cheers, the crowd raising their drinks in salute.

"Hey, you have a bit of drool, just right there," Kelcee teases Haechan as he still hasn't picked up his jaw.

Returning to the table victorious, you share a triumphant smile with Haechan, "This now makes it 4-1," you declare, downing the free shot Taeyong had brought to your table.

"We're leaving now," Haechan says.

"Why?" you ask.

"Cause I almost just came in my pants," he admits.

. . .

The entry to your house was heated, as Haechan couldn't wait another second after you got the key in the door. His hands were all over you, desperate to get your clothes off as you both almost trip over your feet, kicking off your boots.

"You're so impatient, baby. What's everyone gonna think of us just leaving so abruptly?" you ask.

"I don't give a fuck," Haechan reaches for your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, "I need you now." he pants against your lips.

You circle your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Haechan's hands on your hips travel lower, cupping your ass through your leather pants, making you groan into his mouth.

He grabs the back of your thighs, hoisting you into the air, making you yelp in surprise when you feel the ground no longer beneath your feet.

Haechan blindly navigates through your house, bringing you both to the bedroom, slightly knocking into pieces of furniture on the way there. You hop out of his arms when he nears the bed and push him down onto the mattress.

Sitting back on his hands, Haechan watches as you begin to undo the strings of your top, revealing the tops of your breasts.

You can tell he's already growing impatient, nibbling on his bottom lip and bouncing his leg, becoming more fidgety.

"Would you like to do the honors?" you drop your arms to your sides, and without missing a beat, Haechan drops to his knees in front of you. He swiftly undoes your belt, flinging somewhere in the room before making quick work of your pants, pulling the leather down your legs, allowing you to step out of them.

You softly run your fingers through Haechan's hair as he begins kissing his way up your legs. His hands snake up the sides of your legs, pulling you closer as he reaches the apex of your thigh.

"Can I?" he asks, looking up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"Go ahead, my love," you nod at him.

Haechan doesn't break eye contact as he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, slowly dragging them down your legs. He licks his lips, circling an arm around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.

You sensually hum, letting your head fall back as Haechan's tongue laps at your folds. His eyes flick up to your face, watching as you lose yourself and begin rocking your hips against his mouth.

"Mhm, that's it, baby," you moan.

Haechan smirks before he catches your clit between his lips, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Hyuck," you gasp, roughly tugging at his roots.

You mewl, feeling your knees becoming weak. But Haechan holding your hips helps you stay upright. He starts shifting in his place on the floor, his cock straining against his pants as he eats you out. Your eyes roll back, the warmth blooming in your lower stomach. Haechan shoves his face further between your legs, his tongue working tirelessly against your pulsing clit.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," you tell him.

A muffled whimper can be heard from the man before you, desperate to taste all of you. Haechan's fingers reach your entrance, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Yes, yes, right there," you sigh.

Haechan groans when you roughly pull on his hair, tugging his head back. Your eyes meet your boyfriend's wide, lustful ones, seeing the lower half of his face glistening with your juices in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

You grab the collar of his shirt, getting him to stand to his full height, and crash your lips into his. You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting yourself when you slip your tongue into his mouth.

You begin unbuttoning his shirt as he undoes the buckle of his belt, letting it clunk to the floor, before kicking off his pants along with his underwear.

With the strings of your vest untied, Haechan pushes the leather off your shoulders, finally getting you fully undressed as he pulls you down onto the bed with him, seating you in his lap.

A soft groan slips from Haechan's lips when you roll your hips into his, and you feel his cock growing more and more erect with each gyration of your hips. You trail kisses down his neck, softly sinking your teeth into his skin.

You push Haechan back onto the pillows, brushing your hair out of the way as it falls into his face.

"So," you start as you reach over to your nightstand, "Remember the part when you said if I win, we get to do whatever I want," you remind him, revealing the blindfold in your hand.

"Oh god," Haechan rolls his eyes.

"What, you said you trust me," you sit back with a pout.

"I do," Haechan sits up, hugging you closer, "I just hate the idea of not being able to see you," now he has a pout on his face, "I love nothing more than watching your face completely melt with bliss as I make you cum on my cock," his fingers dig into your skin, "But of course for you, my love, I'll do anything."

"We don't have t-"

"I want to. Just let me look at you a little longer first," Haechan tucks your hair behind your ear, admiring your features.

You press a kiss to his lips, "Alright, pretty boy," you tie the scarf behind his head, making sure not to get his hair caught in the knot. "You ready?"

"Do your worst," he says with a snarky grin, laying back with his hands behind his head.

"Okay," You lined his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, "Just relax for me, babe."

"Fuck," Haechan draws out, reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him.

"God, you fill me up so good, Hyuck," you begin to rock your hips.

His hands reach out for you but he stops himself. "Can I touch you?"

"Hmm, not yet," you say, "Just sit there and take it like a good boy," you kiss the corner of his mouth.

Haechan whimpers and bucks his hips up into yours, balling his fists to restrain himself. You flatten your feet on the bed, giving yourself more leverage. Each time you lower yourself, you feel the tip of his cock reaching the deepest parts of you.

Haechan tries to keep himself from moving too much but fails miserably, too drunk off the feeling of your warm, wet walls, hugging his length with a vice grip.

"Please—fuck—please, you feel so fucking good," he squirms beneath you, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Yeah, is this what you wanted?" you let your knees fall on either side of his waist, slowing down your movements, "Couldn't stop yourself from hoping I'd ride you as well as that mechanical bull, huh, pretty boy?"

His breath hitches in his throat, "Mhm..."

"Maybe you knew you'd lose, and knew you'd get exactly what you wanted anyway."

Haechan laughs, "It may have crossed my mind."

You pull the blindfold from over his eyes, and Haechan blinks his vision into focus, staring up at you.

"God, you got me so fucking weak," Haechan sighs, bringing a smile to your face.

"Come here," you jut your chin toward him.

Haechan sits up, wrapping his arms around and crashing his lips into yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Haechan's lips muffle your moans, holding your hips and directing your movements.

"Fuck, I wanna cum so bad," he says.

"What makes you think you deserve to?" you tease.

Mischief gleams in your boyfriend's eyes as he holds your waist, bringing you both closer to the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, directing your feet to flatten on the bed on either side of him. With the extra leverage, you're able to move more fluidly and curl your arm around Haechan's neck as you ride him.

"Oh my god, hyuck, you feel so fucking good," you whine.

"That's right, sweetheart," he takes hold of your waist, slamming his cock up into you, "Take it like it's yours," he grunts.

You cry out, throwing your head back as Haechan can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies meet, too entranced with the way your sopping heat swallows his cock.

"I feel so close," you say.

"Yeah?" he smirks. He sneaks his hand between your bodies, and a moan rips from your throat as he circles your clit with his thumb.

"Please, Hyuck, oh my god!" your fingernails dig into his shoulder, causing him to his at the temporary pain. "I want you to cum with me."

"Oh I'm right there with you, princess," his voice drops an octave, "Just focus on how good it feels. How much I fill you up over and over again. How your pretty little pussy takes me so well."

"Please, baby, m'close," you slur.

"That's it, sweetheart, yeah," Haechan's jaw clenched, feeling how tight you are right now, "Let me have it all."

Your thighs tremble, and the muscles in your lower stomach contract as you feel the knot inside you snap. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and your vision goes black. You slump against Haechan's chest as his hips continue fucking up into you, your orgasm sending him into his own.

"Fuck," Haechan buries his cock inside you, letting his seed decorate your inner walls.

"Oh my god," was all you could say as you wrapped your arms around Haechan, trying to catch your breath.

Haechan tucks his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his hand up and down your back. Soft kisses against the side of your throat bring you out of your haze, and you lift your head to meet Haechan's eyes.

"That was…"

"Yeah, it was," you both laugh.

"Are you alright?" he asks, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs.

"Yeah, I'm just already feeling it in my legs," you tell him, hissing from the discomfort in your limbs.

You attempt to stand, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Haechan grabbing your waist and seating you back on the bed.

"How about you stay here, and I get you cleaned up. I have a feeling you're gonna be having some difficulty getting around for the next few days," Haechan chuckles.

"It was totally worth it," you reply.

a/n: i feel like it’s been so long since i’ve put something out and im so sorry for that 😣 but i’ve missed y’all and i’ve missed writing. i can’t promise my next story will be out soon but i’ll definitely be putting some more stuff out later on in the year. i love you all and thank you for reading <33 feedback is appreciated!!

748 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 3 months

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had to make sure you’d catch it.

SUMMARY: no one expected jeongin to be the first to marry in the group, but furthermore, no one expected minho to be the one to ask you first, and certainly not like that.

REQUESTED! by a pookie anonnie right here. fluff!!! minho!!! yess!!! we love to see it. tysm for this, hope you like it as much as I did! <3

CW: use of sarcasm (because yes?), use of very stupid humour (because it makes everything better), one (1) mention if hyunlix (just for funsies) the one and only beyoncé is mentioned once (yes this is a warning because it’s a silly joke but it’ll make sense i promise) and welp, WEDDINGS MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ WTF IS A COMMITMENT 👹👹👹/jkjk

WC: 2.1k

A/N: can someone tell jypapi that now I need more of Lee Know in suit and tie? thanks ^^

[☆◽️💐◽️☆]

Weddings.

Ah, yes.

That motherfucker.

It’s not like you had anything against the people that were marrying each other —God, no! Good for them!—, but rather how seeing husband and wife looking flawless and so in love made you feel.

Lonely.

As fuck.

But it all changed when you went to a wedding with a plus one for the first time. Well, he had been invited to a wedding, and you happened to be around and free.

It had been not too soon before you two started dating, but a small part of your brain knew that if you hadn’t seen Lee Minho in that gorgeous tuxedo that evening, or maybe before, when he blushed as he asked if you were free, then perhaps your choices would’ve been different —which was a blatant lie, because you were and still are head over heels for him, but we’ll keep it for comedian purposes—, because damn did that man look good in a suit.

It was when you entered the venue with him by your side, the flutters of going with your friend and crush to a wedding, of all places… the flowers, the setting, and, oh, the couple.

Everything was beautiful. It almost made you feel like you were the main character, the bride, despite the obvious knowledge that it could only be that gorgeous woman dressed in white, unlike you, in a short and fitted dress in a dark blue hue, matching your companion’s tie.

“I never would’ve thought you liked weddings so much.” Minho whispered in a soft snicker, as teasing as always, eyes fixated in the way you seemed to glow.

But you two were sat next to each other as the officiant spoke, and he was leaning close to you, his lips right by the shell of your ear, and Jesus Christ in motorbike, because he looked outstanding, and oh my god, because his hand was resting on your leg, warming up your body, that was also covered by his suit jacket because poor you had underestimated how cold a church could be, even in the end of summer.

‘Liked’ weddings? You would have cackled loudly if the setting had been more appropriate. If it meant that Minho would treat you like that every single day, you’d fucking marry one.

But instead, you chuckled softly, laying your hand on his, the one that still rested right above your knee, and you leaned too, silently reeling in the smell of his cologne.

“Never thought you’d take me to one.”

And it was not like you were going to know too soon, but to Minho, in that moment, time seemed to freeze as he stared at your features.

You smiled at him, and it had been like always, but to him, it was the most gorgeous smile he had ever had the pleasure to see, let alone cause, and it made his heart feel tight on his chest, a blush that ran to his cheeks and ears, as red-tinted as your lips, so sweet-looking that Minho had to hold back not to kiss you, keeping him from checking if they’d taste just like how they looked.

He didn’t just want to take you to weddings.

And with that thought in mind, months later, after several dates going coffe shop to coffe shop, falling in love with you, with the soft and soothing tone you spoke to his pets and how beautiful you looked like in his house, happily petting Soonie, he knew then and there that his house wasn’t his home anymore.

You were.

And he kissed you tenderly that night, struggling to find a way to express these feelings with words.

So it made both of you feel very giddy when years later, another wedding showed up.

“You’ve gotta be fucking with me.” He had mumbled, reading the mail as he entered back home. “Jagi, I’m home!” He stated loudly, the cats meowing him welcome.

You came from your study room, leaving an email half written to welcome him back for the day. He handed you the mail, but not before pecking your forehead.

“What’s going on?” You smiled softly in slight confussion, to which he grinned at you, head tilted to the first letter in the bunch.

You stared at it, your eyes turning wide, and read the sentence a couple times.

“There’s no way.” You covered your mouth, laughing in disbelief. “Our little Innie is getting married?”

“I think I lost a bet to Hyunjin.” Minho chuckled.

“Have you called him?” You smiled, excited, cheerfully going back to your study to pick your phone.

“I just saw that idiot back in JYP, he didn’t even tell us!”

Two months. Yang Jeongin, little baby bread, was marrying his now fiancé in two fucking months.

Minho couldn’t believe it, nor could you.

And then, as soon as autumn started to arrive, the first leaves turning different tones of red and yellow, falling to the ground.

Then, the wedding date came by.

[☆◽️💐◽️☆]

You embraced Jeongin’s wife in a tight hug.

“How does it feel?” You mumbled giddily, feeling Minho’s arm go back to your waist as soon as you let go of the beautiful woman dressed in white.

He’d been extra clingy the whole venue, and you had loved and cherished every moment of it. You both knew what that first wedding had meant for the other, all those years ago. It made your tummy fill with butterflies, ones that had been there ever since Minho swooshed your way.

The bride grinned happily, trying hard not to cry so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup.

“It’s like a dream I’m about to wake up from.” She snickered, cheeks covered in a pink hue that couldn’t be hidden with the light foundation she was wearing. “But you’ll get it quite soon, right?” She muttered with a smile, as if in confidence, like sharing a secret you were supposed to know.

“Ah?” But you were clueless.

Before realizing she could’ve fucked up a major canon event, his husband called her from affar, busy dealing with all the guests and the photographer, a tall man with little to no patience and lots of angry italian gestures.

“C’mon, quick.” Minho grinned next to you. “Let’s get to the chocolate fountain before someone eats all the strawberries.”

You two chuckled, sprinting towards the large set of tables and the main table, filled with different types of fruits and cheeses.

“Mmhhm!” You hummed, the warm chocolate melting on your mouth, mixing with the sweetness of the strawberry. “We really need one of these back at home.”

You two giggled and ate a couple more strawberries.

“You have chocolate in your mouth.” Minho mumbled.

You turned to face him, and he snickered, his hand traveling to your face and kissing the corner of your lip, cleaning it.

The chocolate tasted better like that anyways.

You felt your face flush, and you tutted at him playfully.

“You can look, not touch,” you mumbled with a toothy grin. “I spent so much time pissing off the makeup artists back at their place, I can’t have you ruin my lipstick, sir.” You chuckled teasingly.

“I can’t?” Minho raised his eyebrows, and you felt small under his stare, like a little prey. “Really?”

You blushed, pouting. “Minho, not fair.”

He laughed loudly at you, and then back hugged you.

“We should move before they realize we ate half of the strawberries.” He mumbled next to your ear, and cheekily nibbled on it for a second.

You giggled at his antics, and went back to where everyone was settled, joining and taking a couple of pictures with the group.

Your smile widened looking at them, groom and bride, who casually rambled about something you couldn’t hear.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your boyfriend grinned curiously next to you.

You looked at him, your heart fluttered.

Weddings didn’t feel lonely anymore.

“They look so cute together.” You sighed. “So beautiful.”

Minho sighed too, his arm swiftly going back to your shoulders.

“Very.” He muttered softly. He wasn’t talking about the couple.

Laughter and conversations filled the air as guests, dressed in their finest, mingled beneath the gentle glow of twinkling lights.

“It’s time for the bouquet throw!” A loud voice announced.

You looked at Minho and winked teasingly.

“Hold my purse.” You smirked in between giggles. “This one’s mine.” He blushed at your determination.

It wasn’t that you had forgotten what catching the bouquet meant, rather just casually left that thought at the back of your mind.

Minho almost shivered, barely cathing your bag.

Marrying you?

Something felt heavier on the pocket of his jacket.

You settled in the group of women that stood a couple of feet away from the bride, who was laughing and pointing at someone in the midst of the girls.

“Good luck, ladies!” A low voice made you cackle loudly.

“Good luck, Felix!” You chuckled. “Good one, Hyune!” You sent a thumbs up to Hyunjin, and he laughed, blushing.

With excitement bubbling in the air, the moment arrived slowly, almost painfully so. A hush fell over the gathered guests, their eager eyes fixed on the radiant bride. She held the bouquet, a bundle of beautiful daisies, like a symbol of wishes waiting to be granted. With a grin, she turned around, and a playful spark lit up her eyes.

Full of anticipation, she raised the bouquet high above her head. Time seemed to pause for an instant, and then, with a joyful toss, she…

She… stopped?

You didn’t have time to frown in confusion when she turned around again.

The guests that had been crowded around you moved away, and the bride giddily walked towards you.

She squealed. “This is so cute. Here, girl. It’s yours.”

And she handed you the bouquet.

You blabered confused sounds of vowels, not quite understanding what was happening yet.

Gasps and other surprised reactions filled the venue, and you looked around, wondering what was all the fuss about.

“Sorry to ruin the fun, jagi.” A known voice sounded tenderly behind you, and then he giggled. “I had to make sure you’d catch it.”

With your eyes wide and your features displaying a soft grin of surprise, you turned around to face him.

“I fell in love with you in a wedding.” He started. “Not really, considering I had been pinning for you long before, which Felix never hesitated to say how down bad I was for you and how blind I was for not addmitting it.”

Your eyes swelled with tears, your hands covering your mouth. “M-Minho…”

He sniffed, holding back his own, a blush deep on his face.

“I fell in love with you over and over again, in every date we went to and every time you came by my appartment to say hi to the cats, claiming that you felt like they missed you, when it was most likely me who did.” He stared at his hands, fidgeting with them, his palms feeling sweaty.

He raised his head then, and stared deeply into your eyes. He chuckled, falling in love with you once more.

“I have a feeling that, over the course of our lives together, I will fall in love with you as many times as there are stars in the sky.” Minho smiled tearfully, a lump on his throat. “Over and over again.”

You started laughing as tears fell down your cheeks. He bent down on one knee, and your pulse faltered for a moment.

“Will you marry me?”

Because in your first wedding together, he did’t just want to take you to weddings and see other people getting married.

He wanted to marry you.

“Minho, I-” you sobbed, smiling. “Yes! Please!” You chuckled.

He hugged you tightly, and of course, just to make sure you knew who you were getting married to, he teased you.

“Like the one and only godess, Beyoncé, said once,” he mumbled in your ear, “if you like it and you’re sure, put a ring on it.”

“Minho!” You squirmed in between chuckles. “That’s not how the lyrics go!”

He shrugged. “English is hard,” he giggled. You laughed too, pulling him into a kiss.

You sure loved an idiot. But it was your idiot fiancé, soon to be your idiot husband.

Yours only.

[☆◽️💐◽️☆]

~Kats, who hasn’t been in a wedding since 2018, and i think it kinda shows lol

671 notes · View notes

girlboybug · 3 months

Text

Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

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chuuyasheaven · 4 months

Text

♤ Touch me like I'm yours, baby. ♤

Tags: Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, passionate sex, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby, "baby" for Chuuya), praising, fingering, slight teasing, overstimulation?, slight degrading (being called "slutty/slut"), ooc! Chuuya?, handsy! Chuuya?, smudged makeup, car sex, pw/op, might contain grammar errors, rushed?, etc.

Notes: I RECENTLY STARTED JJK !! (currently on s1 ep2 ) ^_^

You got all pretty for him, just putting on some lipstick to seem cuter. Why? Because you both went out that night, just the both of you, driving around during night. All plans made by Chuuya, what really wasn't planed was you on his lap smudging some of your lipstick and staining his lips slightly. So yes, the both of you were making out in his car, which the neither of you complained about actually.

With your eyes closed, you felt his hands roaming around your waist, kinda pulling you closer. Your back slightly arched, just a little, you opened your eyes to see that Chuuya's lips now had a slight red tint now. The sight made you giggle to yourself quietly as you lowered your kisses down to his neck. "What's so funny, baby?", Chuuya asked pointing out your slient giggles. "Nothing, but red lipstick would suit you.", he just exposed his neck slightly further for better access while scoffing to himself. "Thanks, I guess,", he said before his breathing slowly got heavier, mainly because he was quite sensitive on some parts of his neck.

Now that his neck was covered in faint lipstick you lifted your head again. "What now?", you asked curiously, Chuuya let his hand wander to your thigh. His other free hand made it's way to the car's radio to let music play, which was connected to his playlist. Music started to play, Streets by Doja Cat to be exact, his fingers sneaked themselves to your inner thighs. He smirked at you, Chuuya's smirk and fingers got you feeling something only he could make you feel. "How about I make you feel good, doll?", without giving you time to answer, his fingers were suddenly resting on your lips, you knew what he wanted you to do.

Your lips parted a little, he shoved his finger in a little, until your teeth bit down gentle but firm enough for him to pull his glove off. "Good girl.", Chuuya's ungloved hand made it's way back down to your inner thighs, now his fingers pushed your panties to the side and entered your cunt. You whimpered quietly to yourself, his fingers never disappointed you. Since there was music playing in the background, he just made use of that by hitting your best spots by each beat. Oh God, this was the most dangerous combo known to mankind, two minutes into the song and he already had you see stars. By this time your chest was against his while Chuuya took his time making you feel good. "Ngh— Chuuya. .", he looked you into your eyes. "Feels good, sweetheart?", you nodded, your cheeks flushed.

Another five minutes after a different song started playing, you came around his fingers. Chuuya pulled them out and licked them clean, making you wet again. "I. . I want more, baby, p–please.", you asked rather pathetically, but you're his princess, why should he deny you? "More? Does my slutty little girl want more?", he teasingly asked. "You want me to fuck you, doll?", he repeatedly asked while unbuckling his belt, looking you in the eye while doing so. "Why don't you fuck yourself on it, hm? Make us both feel good, just like the good girl you are,", Chuuya held his dick in his hand, while he made you his suggestion he was obviously rubbing himself. ". . F–fine.", you agreed, as if you didn't do this multiple times before!

You gently grabbed his dick, Chuuya pushed your panties to the side again to make it easier for you. When you slowly sunk down on him, it took a lot of self-restraint to not moan out loud. He waited for you to adjust, that's when Chuuya noticed the song currently playing, Naughty Girl by Beyoncé. Without really noticing, he felt you moving, finally. Yes, he did let a surprise moan slip but that was it! You didn't pay attention to it anyway, all what mattered to you was to make you both feel good. Moans and whimpers left your mouth, skin clapping filling the car and the windows now slowly starting to fog up. Could it not get any better? "Keep being such a good slut for me, baby, fuck. .", Chuuya cursed to himself, his head now thrown back. "S–sensitive. . ah!", you moaned, of course you were, with the way he handled you earlier?! But anyway, to at least be a little helpful, Chuuya grabbed your hips to guide you riding.

It was getting close, both of your orgasms now nearing. "So pretty,", Chuuya said, another song which was playing in the background was recognized by him again, Do I wanna know? by Artic Monkeys, making everything better. God, he really should let music play more often. "You sound even better than the song, sweetheart. Keep making this noise for me,", the pleasure got more intense by each bounce, the sweet release not far away. Chuuya let one low grunt out, he was twitching lightly inside you which made you feel even better. Then there it was, before you knew it, your back arched and you gushed around him meanwhile he busted his load inside you.

"Oh shit, let's hope the seats don't get stained. ."

Yeah I finished this at 1am bro..

@heluvaku (don't mind this I js wanted to get a second opinion lol)

#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain.

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be.

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said.

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that.

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him.

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone.

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top.

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.”

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious.

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?”

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality.

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office.

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document.

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that.

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.”

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?”

He sends you a pointed look.

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home.

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back.

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down.

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to.

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately.

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute.

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna.

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both.

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment.

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with.

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else.

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call.

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes.

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers.

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.”

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back.

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand.

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up.

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.”

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.”

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily.

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible.

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts.

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking.

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you.

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad.

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter.

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.”

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her.

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding.

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple.

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands.

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you.

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers.

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning.

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air.

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd.

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better.

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her.

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.”

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.”

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment.

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone.

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack.

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America.

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?”

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest.

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!”

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase.

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning.

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you.

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling.

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground.

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs.

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never.

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today.

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side.

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe.

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need.

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away.

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about.

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now.

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face.

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment.

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you.

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile.

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…”

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it.

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door.

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her.

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut.

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #legally binded

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moviestarmartini · 2 months

Text

carseat backseat. — jude bellingham x reader x brahim díaz.

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader x brahim díaz.

summary: your girls' night out soon turned into a party of one. good news though, the two men over at the private booth were looking for the perfect opportunity to approach you. and they're looking to get out of that club fast.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw (+18 mdni), mentions and consumption of alcohol, basic sentences in spanish (as per usual on this blog tbh), PERREO !!!! , car sex (i'm romanticizing it tbh), soft doms!jude & brahim, marking, praise, light degrading, oral sex (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (twice rip), needy mfs, use of petnames, light manhandling, strangers hooking up tbh. if i missed anything lmk.

A/N: this was wild to write which is why i think it took me so long to finish !!! i mentioned it previously but i lowk picture them in a tuned chevy tahoe and not a limo but that might be irrelevant. reblogs & feedback are always appreciated babes xx enjoy

now playing . . . chulo pt.2 by bad gyal, tokischa & young miko / partition by beyoncé

Betrayed.

You were currently feeling betrayed. Your girlfriends all abandoned you, with cheap excuses or promising hookups that surged throughout the night. You could’ve been on your way to get down and busy too, but you had standards. You sat at the bar, thinking what you should order before a margarita came your way. You curled up a brow at the bartender, who just replied: “The young men by that booth noticed you like tequila.”

You frowned at the plural, taking a short sip of the peculiar-shaped glass before looking around. At a private booth full of couples making out and grinding on each other, you could easily recognize two pairs of eyes looking right back at you. With a confident smile, you raise your glass towards them before taking another sip, thinking that would be the end of it.

You hummed in approval at both the taste of the tequila-based drink and the music the DJ was playing, before feeling a presence standing next to you. It was the shortest of the men who had bought you a drink, with light stubble that covered up his jaw and upper lip area. “¿Qué tal, bonita? ¿Te gustó el trago?” He was dangerously close, but you didn’t find the closeness uncomfortable.

“How did you know I liked tequila?” You laughed, throwing your hair back. Brahim joined in, and he couldn’t ignore the way your face lightened up. His lips parted in amusement, watching your every move. The way you crossed your thighs, and how badly he wanted to pry them open.

“How wouldn’t someone like you have my attention all night?” Brahim’s voice came as something similar to a coo, reaching forward to tuck a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt your whole face heating up. “I’m Brahim, a pleasure.” You introduced yourself in the same fashion, not long after perking up at the song that started playing, its opening letters sparking interest. “Lovely to meet you, ¿Vamos?” He pointed to the packed dance floor with his head, offering you his hand.

Taking down the rest or the drink you hopped off the bar stool, taking his hand gladly and into the dance floor. From your experience with Europeans, they were not the most dexterous dancers, standing still and looking up at the ceiling with their hands on your hips. The man only saved himself by the fact you loved the song and he bought you a drink, the least you owed him was a dance.

But oh you were so wrong.

Brahim gripped his hands on the soft skin of your hips, every once in a while controlling the circular motions you produced, while also grinding back against your ass. It only motivated you further, hearing him curse under his breath. “Joder… qué perreo el tuyo, princesa.” You chuckled a little at his reaction, biting on your bottom lip. The tension only grew when he spun you around, dancing face to face, your nose brushing against his.

Before you could take the dip and cut the distance— his cologne had been clouding your senses, mind fuzzy with the growing sexual tension— he twirled you around yet again, your eyes landing directly on a chest. You tilted your head up to meet the eyes of the man she identified sitting next to Brahim earlier.

“Fancy sharing her, bro?” He addressed Brahim, but his eyes didn’t tear away from yours. “All ours, Jude.” You heard the other reply as he inched closer. The words echoed in your mind, goosebumps forming up your arms. The man you now knew as Jude took both your hands, pulling them upwards and to rest around his neck as he joined the two of you dancing.

The tension between the three of you was something you’ve never felt before, Brahim’s nose brushing against your neck and the way Jude stared you down made your knees weak. But the song came to an end, the DJ transitioning to a whole different genre. But that didn’t stop Jude from closing the distance and kissing you, your eyes falling shut instantly. A gasp left your lips the minute you felt another pair on your neck, leaving slow pecks.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jude proposed, his lips still grazing yours. You nodded, and Brahim scooped your hand in his as he practically dragged you away from the dancing bodies, and Jude followed suit with your hands linked together.

The flashing lights drowned the ambiance, and as you thought of the situation and what could be ahead, you smiled to yourself. If patience was the road to wisdom, you sure felt ninety years older. Maybe your friends jumping off the boat was a blessing in disguise— you deduced as you exited the club through the back. You squinted a little, your eyes already used to the strobe lighting of the club.

Click.

Jude stepped in front of you, covering his mouth to speak as a black large car rolled up. “Cover your face for me, baby.” He advised as Brahim opened the door for you, hopping in behind you, Jude looking at the source of the camera with a straight face before sliding inside the car. He gave instructions to the driver, giving him a large bill to… mind his own business apparently, as a partition was rolled up.

“You owe me a kiss,” Brahim complained after not even two seconds of silence, brushing his nose against your cheek. You couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly drew you into his lap, taking your lips hostage in his. While Jude’s affections earlier were soft and careful, Brahim seemed eager; but it still wasn’t his hand grazing the skin of your inner thigh, making your legs part open. Your mini skirt rode up, and you noticed how Brahim pulled it even further to rest at your lower waist. A hum of approval rang through the moving vehicle, and as Jude’s hand inched closer to your core, you shivered.

Brahim groaned at the sudden movement, parting ways with your lips to settle down your neck, Jude taking the same initiative. You moaned softly, jerking your hips. Him, in response, bit into your neck, his fingers delving into the soft skin of your hips. Getting that much attention was overwhelming, and you fell drunk on it. They really worshiped you, lips slowly making their way down, the moans rewarding the men for their good work.

Jude parted first, his finger grazing the soft fabric of your underwear. “We’ve got you so wet,” He cooed, taking your cheeks and turning your head to look at him. He dissected your reaction as his hand just shoved the panties to a side and he took a dip to test your wetness. A light smirk tugged on his face as he watched your lips part in a tiny gasp.

“Turn her a bit towards me, mate.” Jude instructed Brahim, who was busy painting hematomas on your neck. He nodded with the same devilish shine on his eyes, shifting a little so you would both face him. “What do you want, babe? You look a bit bothered,” He freighted innocence, a chuckle rung from behind you.

You became even more embarrassed; how easy your body queues were to them. “Touch me,” You replied with a certain fortitude in your voice, when your eyes were dripping with need. Brahim watched you, lips slightly parted, and just smiled. He gave Jude a nod, who didn’t waste any time in sinking a finger into your wetness. You couldn’t help but throw your head back with a groan, finding rest in Brahim’s shoulder.

Jude didn’t find any pleasure in easing it into you, fixing a steady pace that would have you writhing in no time. You noticed Brahim getting harder under your ass, the movements clearly getting him off. He still didn’t budge, instead hooking a finger on the strap of your blouse and tugging it off the way slowly before kissing the area.

Your moans were breathy, as if you were a fish out of water, your hand reaching back to brush Brahim’s hair out of the way, his light beard tickling the back of your shoulder. You could also feel his hand sliding down your torso, his ring and middle finger soon finding a home at your throbbing clit. You noticed through almost closed eyes that Jude licked his lips and slid another digit in, picking up the pace.

“You like that, princesa? Wanna cum?” Brahim brushed your hair back. You did your best to affirm between babbles, but the built up was rapid and dangerous. “You can do it, you’re so good for us.” Jude confirmed with praise, and you couldn’t have stopped the orgasm even if you wanted to. Your moans filled up the space, legs trembling as they both slowed down and worked you through it.

Jude took his fingers out and started licking them, never breaking eye contact. Instead, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. His hand cupped your jaw with ease, as you sloppily made out. You could taste yourself in his tongue, “What a pretty mess we have here.” He stroked your cheekbone as the car came to a halt. The driver simply left the vehicle and both men checked through the tinted foggy windows their surroundings. They were at the hotel they requested, at the underground parking level that looked as though no one had been there in years.

Perfect.

You came to the same conclusion they did, now pulling Jude back into a kiss, your hands unbuttoning his shirt. But at the same time you reached back and pulled Brahim closer to do the same, with a bit of his help. Jude watched as you cupped his boner through the dress pants, letting a small surprised groan. He’d been so busy pleasuring you he didn’t realize how needy he was himself.

“I want to taste you.” Brahim whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. Trying to think of an arrangement, an idea quickly rose to your head before it was occupied with the toned bodies of the shirtless men on either side of you. “You will, I promise,” You gave him a peck before giving your attention back to Jude, kissing down his torso as you got on your knees still on the car seat.

You heard Brahim sigh as you unbuttoned the other’s pants, Jude himself helping you lower his underwear to give his hard cock some space to breathe. You didn’t waste any time, licking the pre-cum that rolled down the tip before wrapping your hand around the girth and stroking it shortly. It didn’t take long for you to slowly slide it inside your mouth, Jude’s hand reaching to rest on the crown of your head with a groan leaving his lips.

Brahim didn’t seem to want to interrupt your work, but as you got into it, you felt the familiar hook of his fingers; this time around the waistband of your panties. He slid them down before a thumb stroked down your wet slit. But the slow-paced affections didn’t last long as he pressed his flat tongue to pick up all the slick and go straight to town on you. You started to struggle keeping your mouth and hand at a good pace, moans muffled with the thick cock stuffed in your mouth.

“Don’t stop,” Jude warned between groans, the grip in your hair tightening. The oral fixation seemed to be pushing him over the edge, in the same situation you found yourself in.

That was, until Brahim stopped.

You couldn’t even find the time to complain, to ask him for more; some shuffling filling the suffocating air before a leaking tip grazed your sloppy slit, all soaked with your arousal. You arched your back, pushing back against the friction. Both men snickered between themselves, Brahim still teasing you with the tip of his hard dick.

“You really want it, don’t you?” He cooed, his teasing actions still going further by pushing himself onto your entrance, but never making it fully inside. Instead of responding, you concentrated on giving your best affections, catching him off guard.

“Bro— fuck, do it.” Jude gave him the approval, clearly taking your enthusiasm into his pleasure as encouragement for the other man to satisfy you. Brahim sighed, lining himself properly with your entrance before burying his length inside you.

The groans that came out of your throat were gutural, full of lust. “You feel so good…” He exclaimed, throwing his head back, still getting used to the feel. He wasn’t the lengthiest, but the sheer girth made up for it. His hands gripped hard on the dough of your hips, tightening as he bounced your body against his in the same fashion you were doing earlier at the club.

You couldn’t help but arch your back even lower, doing your best to continue with your hard labor as Brahim set a relentless pace. You’d come to notice he was the most anxious one, yearning to take you as yours. But it seemed to be rubbing off on the other man, his long fingers gripping your hair with certain force. He thrusted hard enough to rock the car at the movement of his hips, enough to have Jude controlling your mouth, choking on his length.

The scene was straight out of the craziest adult film, but you knew that if you weren’t the one experiencing it, it wouldn’t be as hot. “Cum, baby. Come on.” Brahim encouraged, smacking your ass loudly; you were so fixated on pleasing the other man you didn’t even realize how close you were to your second release of the night. It knocked the air out of your lungs, saliva stuck with a guttural groan as the sensitive tip hit the back of your throat.

“Squeeze my cock like that— mierda, así, yes!” You could make out from riding down the tidal wave your orgasm brought, still stroking Jude’s cock while you took a breather to let out all the scandalous moans, letting the small tears run and ruin your mascara a little.

By the stutter on Brahim’s hips you noticed he was going to finish right then and there, only bouncing your hips back in the same fashion you were doing in no less than half an hour ago at the dance floor.

It took him a moment to recover, heavy breathing overshadowing the sloppy blowjob. He pulled out, looking back to watch the cum dripping out your whole. “Jude,” Brahim looked at him with a heavy breath. “Look at this. Look how perfect our pussy looks pumped of my cum,”

You whined at the sheer force the Spanish national manhandled you to show you off like a prize, and with this new angle you noticed a hint of pride in his voice. Jude’s seeming examination took a moment, even though you could hear the slick noise your leftover saliva made as he stroked his cock.

“I think it’s missing something…” Jude pondered, rising to his knees before pushing himself inside you. With a loud moan of surprise your knees couldn’t hold anymore, collapsing onto your stomach. Your head rested on Brahim’s thick thigh, and he soothed you through the first few instances with praise. Now it was his turn to be the doting one, brushing your hair back and talking you through it. “You’re taking it so well.”

“Suck him off, babe. He’s getting hard for witnessing how much of a good pretty slut you are for us,” Jude ordered, pulling your hips back up to pound into you shamelessly. The command wasn’t a problem, mind so cockdrunk you could do whatever they asked of you.

Jude still helped you up so you could get to the task at hand, but Brahim dipped lower to link his lips with yours tenderly, contrasting the constant sound of skin coming into contact. As you made out, you took the chance to stroke his cock, still soaked with your fluids. He seemed to be melting onto the seat, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Breaking away and trying to manage your moans as best as you could, your tongue licked up the prominent vein up the underside, before wrapping your lips around the soft tip.

You fluttered your lashes up at him, finding him cute with his parted lips. But it was Jude who picked your hair back and motivated you straight into the action, sounds of pleasure now coming from both men. Brahim writhed under you, while Jude had you squirming.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Jude whined, trying to finish on the same pace but being unable to do so. Your walls squeezed him dry deliciously, and he leaned to press his chest against your back to reach around and draw circular motions on your overstimulated clit. “Just one more, okay baby? You can do it,” He encouraged, at the same time you tore yourself away from blowing Brahim to breathe and moan out freely.

“Perfect girl,” Brahim cooed as Jude slowed down, helping you ride down the wave your release represented. Jude pulled out, now standing back to admire his load leaking straight out of you. But now it was his turn to help you onto his lap, holding you close.

“You did so well,” Jude hummed, caressing your cheeks, cleaning the dried mascara. Brahim scooted over, brushing your hair back with his hands and pressing the tiniest, most playful kisses over your bare shoulders. With a gentle hand, Jude turned your head in his direction and locked his lips with your own, slightly swollen and adapting a redder tone. It was tender, calm. Brahim followed, matching the same energy.

It was strange how both men had that duality to them; going from being completely hands on and greedy with your body, to soothing you with the sweetest touches. “We didn’t even make it to the hotel room…” You joked, the two of them joining in the lazy laugh.

“It’s barely one in the morning.” Brahim brushed his nose against your cheek, in the same way he demanded a kiss earlier. You noticed him and Jude shared a look before looking back at you.

“Round two?” They proposed in unison. Still, their voices and expressions didn’t give any hint of obligation, just curiosity. You knew you could reject them and they would understand completely.

And that only captivated you further.

“Round two.” You confirmed with a nod and a wink, getting yourself together to at least spend a minute or so at the hotel lobby. As you all entered and confirmed the booking, it seemed that their infatuation with you only grew; Brahim couldn’t tear himself away from your side while Jude couldn’t stop looking back at you with a certain glimmer in his eyes.

You knew this was bound to be a long night. The biggest comfort though? That you knew you were going to wake up the next morning held securely by two pairs of strong arms.

#jude bellingham #brahim diaz #jude bellingham x latina reader #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #brahim diaz x reader #football smut #football fic #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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princessedesfleursss · 1 month

Note

please read this!

Hello I love your work! Can you please write a piece based on “Virgo’s groove” by Beyoncé for Carlos Sainz and female reader? I would appreciate if you do or even read this!

*hiii. tysmm, i'm glad you enjoy my work. here's the piece i wrote on what you requested, not sure if it's what you wanted but i hope you end up liking it!

CS55R1

Pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

Genre: blurb/ fluff

Warnings: making out, being horny, teasing and kissing, a smol bday date

It was Carlos’s birthday the day tomorrow and since he wanted to celebrate it back in Spain with his family, you decided to have a little birthday rendezvous with the birthday boy himself. Earlier this morning, you had sent Carlos a sneaky text with the address of the hotel room you were at. He had obediently followed the given place and knocked on the door right at the time you had asked him to be there.

He came in, his eyes ravishing your figure in the ‘barely-a-dress’ dress you were wearing. His hands, immediately went over to the back of your thighs, trying to sneak them up to your bum. Giggling in the middle of the kiss, you pushed yourself away from him,

“Not now, pretty boy.”

“Come on baby. It’s not fair you’re teasing me after asking me out for lunch.”

Smiling at him with a proud smirk, you sat him down at the set up on the balcony. Standing behind him, you glided yours hands over his chest and leaned closer to the shell of his ear whispering, “Consider me dessert.”

You felt Carlos let out a low a groan from within his chest at the mere thought of taking you right here before eating.

“That is if you behave well, birthday boy,” you added another condition to what you promised him earlier.

Sitting yourself down in front of him, you motioned him to start lunch. Upon opening the lid to the first dish, Carlos chuckled at your lousy but creative version of a birthday cake with a candle- stuck to a steak was a candle. You took out a lighter and lit the candle that was placed on the stake.

Singing him happy birthday, you watched as Carlos blew out the candles and then looking back up at you with a devious glance enough to make you wet.

“Stoppp looking at me like that,” you teased him.

He simply shrugged and continued lunch. You began eating too as songs from the local radio made use by serving as the back ground music to your little date. Fond stories were shared over wine and for a while you and Carlos were not on the verge of jumping onto each other because you were both borderline horny.

That was all until you decided to drag him for a dance. Moving the small table into the hotel room, you made space in the balcony.

“Baby come over,” you urged Carlos to move closer to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and Carlos pulled you flush against his chest, an all too familiar move for him.

You mouthed the words of the song that was going on, playfully moving your body in rhythm to the song. Carlos too played along, twirling you multiple time and bringing you in even closer to his body than before.

“There's nothing that I want as much as I want you,” you sang along to the lyrics.

Carlos leaned down to kiss you, and moved his face towards your neck, nipping at the skin and surely leaving love marks all scattered. Meanwhile you danced to the song and kept up with the lyrics while a turned on Carlos attempted kissing every inch of your body.

“And I need more nudity and ecstasy, oh,” you gasped as he turned you around, your back pressing his sturdy chest now.

His hands snaked around your waist, and his lips went into a frenzy of kisses across the side of your neck. You moaned as he tried humping against you.

“Carlossss, everyone can see us,” you warned him, the song in the background long forgotten.

“I don’t care really,” he said as he lifted up his face to switch sides to kiss the other side of your neck, “All I want is you now baby.”

You let one of your hands reach backward to entangle in his dark locks and let the other rest on the arm he had around you.

“Then have me,” you moaned back at him.

Carlos lifted you off your feet and brought you into the hotel room, throwing you lightly onto the fluffy bed. Wedging a knee between your legs and caging your face in between his hands, Carlos pecked your forehead lightly.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too baby,” you reciprocated his words and caressed his cheek, “And a happy early birthday.”

He smiled down at you and went back to pepper your face with kisses.

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anjellaufeyson · 2 months

Text

I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend.

Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face.

Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?”

I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.”

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.”

The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”

Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.”

I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?”

He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.”

My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked.

I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions.

Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”

Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.”

I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up.

We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder.

The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line.

“Who’s valuable to her?”

What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die.

Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth.

“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?”

His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?”

The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.”

“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately.

I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek.

Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him.

Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly.

While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”

His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”

“Were you yes or no?”

Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy.

“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet.

He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked.

His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”

“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior.

Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.

#bellamy blake #oneshot #octavia blake #the 100 #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #enemies to lovers #fake dating #abby griffin #john murphy #jasper jordan #monty green #bob morley #Spotify

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milesmolasses · 10 months

Note

can we get a fic where reader and miles (earth 42) are just listening to rnb in his room together and they start getting a lil too close to each other 😗

kissing up on each other and smiling and giggling and listening to some Aaliyah or old school Beyoncé.

he’s so fine 😍

(a lil spicy iykwim 😂)

LET ME LOVE YOU

— ik u asked for aaliyah or beyoncé…

— but this song just EATS

— miles knows EXACTLY how to lead you to bed

— ⚠️: cursing, suggestive obvi, nun too big, just some kissing n grabbing… I was in a mood

"you are insatiable miles morales—!"

you could feel him pawing at the exposed skin of your sides with his head nuzzled in the crevice between your shoulder and neck leaving kisses.

"you the one who pulled up here looking so damn fine. it's ok, i know you wanna look nice f'me" he mumbled, followed by another open-mouth kiss to your collarbone. a smart response wound up caught in your throat when his grip on your hips was tightened and he nibbled and sucked at your collarbone.

"you're like a fucking leech." despite your words, you sighed tilting your head back to give him more access to your skin. you allowed your back to arch into him and his arms wrap around your waist, short blunt nails digging into your flesh like you would somehow find a way to disappear from his grasp.

"y'know you want me," he said as he pulled back, eyes low and hooded, to ogle at the mess work he created displayed all on your neck and collarbone. he sighed before he leaned into your lips, devouring you as he let the taste of your flavored chapstick dissolve onto his tongue.

you dug your nails up his back through the shirt he wore, leaving crescent-shaped marks of your own on his deep, pretty brown skin. soon enough, your hands found their way to his neck pulling him even closer to your lips. you didn't even think it was possible, but somehow his grip on you became even tighter as he groaned against your lips.

"mi vida you drive me fucking crazy," he grumbled as he threw his neck back. you giggled as you threw your head into the crevice of his neck leaving fluttering kisses along his skin, lips barely touching him. your nails resumed their actions, this time racking up and down his chest feeling the slow but deep rising and falling of his chest against your hands.

gift from virgo by beyoncé slowly faded through the room as the song was coming to an end and the sweet sweet sounds of mario’s melodic humming voice came into earshot.

you lifted your head up with a silly smile plastered across your face and wide eyes.

“no.”

“I ain’t even say anything-!”

“and yet I knew what that pretty lil mouth was going to say,” miles narrowed his eyes at you, nose flaring at you. this same thing happened yesterday, and the day before that, and any day that miles lets you blast your playlist in his room.

"you're so lame," you grumbled lifting yourself off his lap and onto the bed, rolled over, and back faced towards him. he grabbed your phone and paused the music before attending to the pouting baby shriveled up on his bed.

he wrapped his arms around your figure to spoon you the way he knew you liked as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "c'mon mami don't be like that."

his thumb rubbed nice slow circles into your stomach effectively coaxing you out of your pouting state. sitting up straight abruptly, you turned towards miles.

"dance with me-!" you shouted as you yanked miles arm towards you.

"mama you know I got a stiff hip," he laughed grabbing his hip and wincing in pain.

you rolled your eyes at his attempt to evade your request. shifting yourself off of his bed completely, you took his hand in yours as you tried lifting him up with you. he didn't budge even in the slightest as he looked you dead in the eyes with an amused smirk on his face.

"jesus, miles what they feeding you-?!"

he rolled his eyes as he abruptly stood up, causing you to stumble back slightly. "they feedin' me bricks — now c'mon, go play your lil' song."

your eyes went wide as you squealed. running to the phone you quickly restarted the song and pressed play. seeing such a big grin on your face got miles thinking about how easy it was to get that pretty smile flat on your face. it made his chest contort and his mind cloudy with nothing but images of you and your smile.

running back to miles, you noticed his woozy smile as his eyes followed you as you walked.

"who got you so happy?"

"who else could get me smiling like this?" he questioned, the smile on his face spreading out to be even bigger.

"your momma?"

miles sucked his teeth as he pulled you in by the hip saying "you play too much."

his hands stayed glued to your hip as he swayed with you to the soothing tune of Mario's humming at the beginning of the song. his eyes found yours as a barely audible hum came from his chest, one that you could feel on your own from being so close to him.

if I was your man

baby you'd

as you danced, arms wrapped around his slender neck you couldn't help but notice the glint in his eyes as he looked down at you, hips swaying along with you. you furrowed your brows as a skeptical grin found its way on your face; you knew that look very well.

"ion' really like the way you looking at me miles-"

"what's wrong with the way im looking at you, guapa?"

you scoffed as you held his mesmerizing stare with a shrug and a chuckle. he sighed as his chin wound up on your shoulder, his warm breath trailing the side of your neck; you would have made a joke about it if the moment you two shared wasn't so intimate.

never worry 'bout

what I do

you'd begun to hear a warm hum in your ear right where miles had laid his head, the noise soft and almost welcoming (and one you'd probably keep on repeat for the rest of the month.)

everything about his and your being in that very moment — the way you were holding each other, his head on your shoulder, his voice swarming every inch of your mind, touching the hairs on the back of his neck —everything felt so intimate. more than intimate.

his hands traveled up from your hips to under your shirt, resuming their original position on your waist, squeezing and pawing. his cold palm on your skin sending goosebumps down your spine, something within you coming into bloom.

I'd be coming home

back to you

miles' soul might as well be etched into the dents his nails left around your skin, all of his being poured out from his fingertips as he gripped you. smooth, deep humming and skin-on-skin contact made your head cloudy with nothing but images of miles, your breathing slowing down to match the pace in which you were swaying.

every night, doing you right

"you are insatiable miles morales..." you mumbled.

"mmhm I know baby," he mumbled as he pecked your neck. pulling away from you, he grabbed your hand as he led you in your defeated state back to bed with him.

— 42miles REEKS physical touch

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #earth42 miles #earth 42 miles morales #spiderman miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x reader #42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x black reader #milesmolasses

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sanakimohara · 3 months

Text

“Go Go Dancer +” B.C. +L.M. +S.C. +H.J.

Can you tell I wrote this sleep deprived, worked up, and angry? 🖤 No? Well music will do that to you I guess.. 🖤 Enjoy this Drabble…

[ MDNI ]

++++++

Dancing to these songs with Chan, Changbin, Jisung, and Minho after drinking all night with them.

They don't know what to do with you, are too drunk to stop you from going wild, and are in awe of how you move so effortlessly with alcohol drowning your veins. You go from one man to the next, flirting with them as giggles bubble in your chest, and your confidence grows when they get handsy with you.

Chan is the first to have you, swaying his hips in rhythm with yours as he hugs you from behind.

You're all smiley when he wraps a hand around your throat, tilting your head to look at him, "You're acting like a slut…you know that right, baby girl?" His voice is low, almost drowned out by the music, but you hear him clearly.

"So what if I am Channie. You seem to like it," you respond cockily, biting your bottom lip to keep from kissing him as his grip on your neck tightens. His amber-brown eyes darken at the sight, and you hum triumphantly, feeling his clothed cock twitch against the curve of your ass.

"I love it, actually," he corrects you with a heavy breath, slowly losing his mind as you reach behind to drag a hand through his soft hair. "Mmm, I can tell, daddy…." You mumble matter-of-factly, smirking as he groans at the familiar title falling from your glossy lips. Just to fan the flames of his leering restraint, you sighed a soft moan out in return.

Chan swore he saw red as the heavenly sound hit his ears, but he didn't get to enjoy it long as Minho stole you away.

"My turn…" he cooed at the older, smirking as he held your hands in his and pulled you straight into his chest. You laughed loudly as the world spun for a second, "Shit, Min…. you're getting me all dizzyyy!…" you whine playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck while he encircled your waist.

"Like you care," he chuckled as you pressed closer to him. He was right; you were too far gone to care, and the longer you two grind onto each other, the less gravity seems to matter to you. Minho is incredibly fluid with his movements, entirely in control of your hips and practically letting you ride his thigh for everyone to see.

Everyone was the three other members who were either watching you with hungry eyes or pouring themselves another drink while doing so.

They all knew you could be….' messy,' but this was another provocative level.

They loved it.

You didn't care what you looked like to them at this point, body buzzing with energy from an obscene amount of spirits, and your throat for physical touch rising dangerously high in their company.

How could anyone think straight, grinding on Minho's thigh? What could a girl like you do when her cunt was already slick and begging to be touched?

Ignore them? Act as if they weren't there for your comfort?

No….that just wasn't right.

Every single one of them knew what they wanted from you. Their role in your satisfaction was purely transactional for the time being, and they were keeping you from going to waste.

Minho was caught in a trance, watching your lips mouth the words to the song and your eyes sliding shut in bliss as he squeezed your ass. "Chan hyung was right….you turn into a real whore fast.."

"I can be one all the time if you pay me.." you snap back with a sultry smile, unable to hear him respond before a soft hand snakes around your waistline and drags you into another warm chest.

Jisung's, to be exact.

"Hi, pretty girl," he muses in your ear, licking his lips as you reach for his hands and trail them up your sides. "Hi, pretty boy," you tease him back, turning to peck his lips once, then twice. Jisung whines at the sudden affection, gaze softening as you stare into his eyes, dazed out of your mind. He'd forgotten to breathe for a second, losing his own train of thought as you hooked two fingers under his belt to drag him closer for another quick kiss.

"Ah fuck," he groaned into your mouth, eyes slightly rolling as you traced your middle finger up the entire length of his dick imprint. Jisung was painfully hard, almost as needy as you, when a drop of alcohol entered his system, and you found it cute.

"Awe, Hannie…should I help you out, hm?" You taunted him, palming his cock shamelessly and achieving your goal of flustering him in front of the others. He nodded slowly, starting to pant as you giggled and narrowed your eyes at his pleasured expressions.

He always looked so cute begging…

Fortunately for him, Changbin stepped in just before you could make him come right where he stood.

"Noooo… Binnie, I was havin' so much fun with Hannie!" You whine as the older male plucks you from the ground with one arm around your waist. The drink he poured himself a moment ago is still in his free hand, and by the time he settles on the couch with you on his lap facing him, the liquor in his glass is gone with one gulp.

"I wanted a shot too!" You pout at his lack of sharing, and he smiles in return. "I'll pour another one then…" Changbin obliges you, sitting up and leaning forward to reach behind you. His large body engulfs your smaller one even while sitting in his lap. It's a mesmerizing comparison, and you get wetter from the realization.

He could fuck you onto his cock all night and never break a sweat…

You suspected that experience wasn't too far away from happening as he rested his chin on your exposed shoulder while pouring your drink.

Changbin took his time, enjoying the way you squirmed in his embrace to try and bounce to the beat of the music innocently and acting as if his erection wasn't brushing your inner thigh.

"Here we go," he announced, sitting back slightly to hand you his refilled glass, and you reached for it without hesitation. Changbin avoided your gesture, staring you down intensely as he clarified his action, "I never said it was yours, baby."

“….Binnie pleaseeee!…”

"Please, what?.."

You huffed, starry eyes glossing over with desperation as you begged him, "Please let me have the drink…"

Changbin studied your expression briefly, smirking unapologetically as a blush flushed your cheeks and your brows knitted together in frustration.

How could he say no to you?…

"Since you asked so nicely," he gave in to you, but instead of handing you the glass, he downed the drink himself. You were seconds from leaving his lap and storming over to one of the other members but scrapped that planned tantrum as he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Changbin held the back of your neck firmly, his other hand resting under your chin as he let the liquor in his mouth seep onto your tongue. You moaned gratefully, and the bitter taste flooded your throat, his tongue continuing to play with yours as he dropped the hand on your chin to grip your thigh and shift your lower half directly against his.

You smiled at the friction, eyes rolling the sloppier the kiss became, and your hands traveling over the expanse of chest. Changbin groaned every time your nails dug through his tight white shirt, switching to tug at his dark hair as you broke away from the kiss to breathe.

Everything was blurry for a moment. You could hear the members laughing, speaking to each other about you, but you had no control of your five senses anymore.

All except touch.

You felt them as clearly as cold rain hitting your skin in the early morning. Their hands rain your body, stripping you down bare and playing with your most intimate areas.

The burning stretch of each of their cocks sank into for what felt like hours upon hours.

That distinctive sticky residue of their cum glossing your skin in a relentless cycle…

Every breath, moan, and whisper they let out while using your body for all it's worth.

You could feel it all….

And you regret none of it the following day.

++++++

I’m going to bed now….🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I couldn’t find an edit with the hyung line and JISUNG I’m sorry but this’ll just have to do cause I’m tirrreeeddd… 🖤 credit to the creator 🖤

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deadpool15 · 6 months

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The best

"Hello, we are the feisty, sexy JAM REPUBLIC!!" The yelling always gets me, I sit there smiling while fixing my dress or simply trying to pull it down. When the girls agreed on wearing black, I showed up in pink, trying to represent all both of the national colors. I was then given a blanket as I thanked the staff and placed it on my lap. "We are here to work hard, though I can say I'm excited to see what everyone brings to the table. It's fun because we are the serious judges now." I stated while smiling at my team and holding Audrey's hand. We are then brought the cards, "I have a feeling about some of the other teams. What do you think about it, babes?" She turned around, showing off her little dimples before saying, "I feel like it's gonna be some teams we have seen before and a few mysterious ones, you know."

I agree before adjusting the blanket on my lap and watching our wonderful leader reveal the crew. Of course, when I saw BEBE, I wasn't shocked. Bada and I had been dating for a while, technically before the show started, well, at least in her opinion. She had been trying to get with me way before we got to street women fighter, but I genuinely believed those feelings weren't real. No matter how much she tried to tell me of send me gifts and pick me up from work. I know what you're thinking, "like fuck can you be any more dense." Well in my opinion I've had people work extremely hard for a fuck, I'm talking overtime with no breaks. Though she showed me the real her and we opened up to each other about some tough situations and at that moment I knew I was in love with her. Shit I had been the entire time, and I was simply trying to protect my heart.

Other crews weren't exactly a surprise either, though when 1MILLION added another dancer I was a but surprised, I've seen her dancing style for a while and she was good as fuck. "New scenery, me like it, girls." Latrice laughed at me while hitting my shoulder, with Kirsten giving us the motherly like pointed eye stare, meaning she meant business. Though in this situation I think it just meant to shut the fuck up politely. We saw some other times with Hook coming back and making an appearance, Aiki was a judge last time I saw her, and even though I didn't watch her season, I've heard great things about her. Like Bada, she had her students on her crew, and they showed out. "Still can't believe she is older than us or has a kid." We joked a lot about how the hottest people on set were taken.

Seeing LA CHICA was new as well. As soon as the cameras turned off, Latrice looked at me. "Is it bad I don't know the last crew?" I laughed at that. I mean shit not that funny but funny. "Stop laughing and tell me what they have done." I tried to stop my laughs but ended up laughing harder. "To be honest, the leader is just known for a lot of cultural appropriation in my book." The rest of the girls turned around with Kirsten stated we are in korea, so that's accurate.' We all start to get up and move towards set. We were really the only ones to film the outro since we arrived late. Seeing all the crews stand sit there on their podiums was kinda amazing, mainly knowing we would go up there as well. "Funny how we aren't the ones dancing."

After a while of sitting and the occasional introductions of different crews. We also had the smoke challenge performed by BEBE that awed the crowd. We were finally sitting down, and a few selective girls had already shown their dancing skills. Everything was going well so far. Until some girl thought she could pull a sexy choreography. It was actually sad to watch. "It simply wasn't for me, I felt like it could've had more of a wow factor or just better moves. Everything seemed sloppy, and it didn't fit your persona at all." Everyone looked at me after the harsh criticism, I guess no one expected me to be real. I turned to the side to notice Redlic has been winking at me. Weird. You see, me and her didn't exactly have a friendship. She and Bada were friends due to working together previously on dances as well as classes. In my opinion she was too friendly.

Though, not to Bada but to me. She was always winking and trying to hug me or asking me on dates. Now everyone pretty much knew that me and Bada were a thing except the public per my decision. Bada thought it would be a good idea to show the world our love, and while I was glad she wasn't ashamed of it, I knew the outcomes of it. Now I'm not scared by any means of what the world has to say, shit I came out while working as a dancer for beyonce during a tour to thousands of people. But, those opinions mattered to Bada, and as much as she liked to tell me this and that I knew the truth. Redlic saw this as an opportunity even going as far as stated. If you aren't public, then it doesn't really count. After a while, I realized I spaced out and was brought back to reality when I heard Redlic open her mouth. "I'm sure my sqeet angel Ellie could show you how it's done. She is known for being sexy without trying. I mean, come on, people just look at her."

I sat there shocked while plastering on a fake smile shyly shaking my head to disagree with her statement. But it was too late. She had already convinced half of the crowd, and before I knew it, everyone expected me to dance. I took a look over in my girlfriends direction and saw her face. She was smiling, but I knew that smile. She was anything hut happy. She also looked like she wanted to kick Redlics ass. I guess I was taking too long before I felt a hand reaching over to grab me and pull me to the stage. I looked over and saw Redlic smiling at me, telling the crowd to watch and learn. "So much for not dancing today." I whispered. I heard the music, Beyonce, of course it was. Realizing they had decided to play partition out of all the songs seemed like the world was against me today. Redlic had grabbed my hip, squeezing it while smiling at me. At that moment I knew I was fucked.

We danced together with me, somehow ending up between her legs while smirking st thr camera seductively. Might as well put on a show. If anyone would see us, they would think we were involved or fucking. After we finished, she pulled me closer. It almost looked like we were kissing, so I pushed her away softly and laughed nervously. Seeing the look on Bada's face, let me know I wasn't gonna walk tomorrow. I heard the crowd giving us applauds with Redlic, not trying to let go of my waist, like girl you trying to get me killed in this bitch. After a while, we were called on break. I was scared as shit obviously. I managed to avoid Bada for some time before I was waking down the hall going back to meet uo with the girls after getting a snack, and I saw Lusher. I tried to slowly back away, and she noticed to me. "Bada said she would like to talk to you, unnie, and she said she wouldn't bet on you running because you know. I don't really know what the second part means, but apparently, she said you do so, yea. She is in our crew room, and she seemed pissed so I wouldn't keep her waiting. Plus, you two live together, so don't prolong the war." At times like this, I wish she wasn't so clueless. She was literally leading me to my death.

I sighed and started walking to the direction of the crew room, fuck I can already feel the pain in my legs. As I was trying to give myself a little pep talk I realized I was standing in front of the door. Thinking about it, maybe this was a bad idea. Fuck I'm scared. "Get you ass in here, and don't make me repeat myself, little girl." Yearing her voice like that kinda turned me on until I realized she was gonna murder me. I walked into the room, seeing her sit there on the couch man spreading while staring at me with a glare. "You put on quite the show, didn't you? I would say I loved it, but I mean, did I baby? Was a bit confused on why you randomly decided to throw you ass. Wait, let me rephrase that. Throw my ass back against that girl." She motioned me to walk over na di stood between her legs until she pulled me down. "You hear that, my ass. Because you mine, belong to me. All of you are mine. Seems like you forgot, let me remind you then, what do you say, baby?" I nodded mindless to her commands. "Who's the best baby, say it?" I could barely heat her when she started to grind me against her lap. "Say it pretty." I managed to mutter it out finally. "You're the best, baby. Only you. Always you."

(Request by @pinksults)

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee #redlic #Spotify

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swayziiwriter · 8 months

Text

Victory's symphony | Kylian Mbappé

summary: the France football team captaincy had been awarded to your fiancé Kylian, prompting a night of private celebrations between you both.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: the French at the end of the song suits Kylian so well

Kylian had been awarded captaincy of France, a position that allowed him to represent his country and his passion for football. This promotion alls meant that Kylian deserved his own gift, specially for him. That’s how you’ve both ended up in this position.

Kylian laid under you, panting softly as your bare pussy continued to grind against his clothed cock, moonlight shining through the tall windows of the bedroom providing enough light for you both to see each other when in close proximity. You slid down his body, bringing you face to his covered hard on aching to be touched. “Please- please” Kylian let out a strangled breathe, pleasure pulsating through your body at his words.

Kylian always had you begging, tears streaming down your face before he’d let you release all over him. Tonight was different, tonight was about providing your own pleasure to Kylian.

Your hands reached his V-line, tracing it softly before bringing a hand inside of his boxers. He was rock hard, heavy and hot in your hand dabbles of precum sticking to your fingers. Bringing them out of his boxers to your mouth, sucking softy on the two fingers tasting Kylian on your tongue. Kylian let out a guttural moan, “putain, tu es si chaud” fuck, you are so hot he groaned dragging a hand to lock in your hair tugging on it softly.

“Suck me off, please” Kylian begged again, eyes pleading as his member remained hard. You nodded, bringing your hands to his boxers, pulling them down to free his cock that slapped against his abdomen. Standing tall and thick, aching for a release.

You leaned down, levelling your head with his cock before spitting on it. Bringing your hand to stroke his dick, Kylian’s breathing increased hyper fixative on the way your spit drippped down his cock until you held his member. “Oh, oh fuck that feels-feels so good” he moaned, his head falling back against the pillow as you jerked him off. It wasn’t until you left a kiss on Kylian’s red tip that he brought a hand to stop your motions.

“Don’t want that right now” he stated. You studied him “then what do you want baby? Anything you want, you’ll get” keeping eye contact you let your tongue run softly against his tip. “Putain” his head shook, “I want you to ride me.”

Oh fuck. Kylian was strong. He was big and well groomed, abs sculpted perfectly to his v-line that protected his huge cock. His skin was smooth and hot, his moans sounded like heaven and every touch he gave you was addicting. Every curve of his body was addicting, you’d memorized every detail. Licking the rugged edges of his body until you reached his bodies most prized possession, his cock.

Your hair fell in front of your face as you looked down to the space between your bodies, Kylian didn’t give you much time before he was grabbing you by the shoulders to be brought back into his body. Immediately your lips were on his, connecting in a feverish manner. Kylian brought his bigs hand to your ass, massaging the soft flesh attentively. You gasped at this action allowing Kylian to slide his tongue into your mouth, you let out a deep moan as you let him explore your mouth tongue and teeth clashing.

Pulling back for air as quickly as possible before reconnecting your swollen lips together. Kylian pulled away, allowing for you to catch your breathe as he brought his cock under your dripping pussy. “mhm, shit” you sighed softly, letting your wetness coat the base of his dick as Kylian encouraged you to align his cock with your entrance.

You lifted your hips, positioning your body over his before he stopped you with a grab of your hips. “Wait, what about a condom?” He asked curiously, you’d never let Kylian hit it raw before, always telling him he had much bigger things to worry about then getting your pregnant. But tonight, Kylian deserved it all, he deserved to feel your pretty pussy ride his cock.

Leaning into his face you kissed him hard, bringing a hand to the back of his head. You pulled away looking into his eyes as he smiled softly. “I want” you brought your hands together, intertwining them over his abdomen. “I want it raw Kylian, I want you to fill this pretty pussy with your cum” Kylian could have came at your words, the filthy words spilling from your mouth were going directly down to his dick that was twitching under your dripping core.

“Then be a good girl and get on this cock” he stated, tilting his head to the space between your sex. Kylian buried his head in your breasts, kissing them softly as you held his cock in your hand, aligning it with your entrance before finally falling down on his cock. “tu me prends tellement bien, ma petite salope” you take me so well, my little slut Kylian groaned, latching his tongue onto your nipple, sucking on it as his hand fondled your other breast.

The stretch of Kylian’s cock was never one you could get used to, his thick, hot member felt as if it was leaking into your stomach each time, leaving your mind blank and your pussy squelching. Kylian’s head lifted to connect his lips with yours once again, before you left them dragging along open mouthed kisses down his neck, marking the hot flesh as a coat of sweat started to appear on his smooth skin. He wanted to move, he wanted to move so bad it hurt. But he knew waiting for you to adjust would allow you to last for many rounds, Kylian was always in it for the long run.

“I’m ready” you croaked, head titling back as Kylian shifted his body slightly. Kylian smirked, leaning against the headboard hands at his waist. “Give me a show y/n” Kylian shrugged, “chevauche ton capitaine comme la salope que tu es” ride your captain like the cockslut you are he continued, eyes piercing. Your hands attached to his broad shoulders, holding them for dear life as you lifted your hips before sliding back down onto his cock.

“So full, always so full with your cock” you moaned, building up a rhythm as you bounced on his dick. Kylian felt so hot inside of you, now that you were riding him raw it felt as if you could feel every bit of his cock like never before.

“Merde, so good at riding this cock” Kylian praised, grabbing at your breasts as they bounced with every move of your body. Your were taking Kylian hard, you hands coming to lock around his neck for support. Kylian could tell you were getting tired, your rhythm slowing as you tried to calm your body. “Getting tired?” Kylian mocked, “always so needy for my cock, don’t even know what to do with yourself” he continued, reaching to grab bunches of your hair as you grinded on a particular spot that had his cock twitching.

Kylian began to match your bounces with hard thrusts, soon enough your moans turned into screams as Kylian let out guttural groans in return. “Kylian, it’s so good Kylian” you moaned bringing your lips to his neck, assaulting the flesh as Kylian’s head titled to give you better access. Your first orgasm approached quickly, passing over you hard and slow. Kylian guided you through it, hitting the spots inside of you that made you go dizzy until you were shaking.

“Turn around” Kylian demanded. You stopped moving, confused at his sudden halt. Kylian slipped out of your tight hole, turning your body swiftly to be on your stomach. “Ass in the air mon amour” Kylian spoke, handing a palm across the edge of your ass, watching as your body inched forward. You turned around, bringing a hand to his neck pulling him into a harsh kiss, “ruin me Kylian, cum inside this pussy. Your pussy” you whispered seductively. Kylian smirked, pushing your body back onto the bed, sliding inside of your empty core.

“So big” you muttered burying your head into the pillows as Kylian wasted no time letting you readjust, his thrusts were mercilessly drilling into your dripping sex. Kylian bundled your hair in his hands bringing your body to be flushed against his, allowing for him to hit deeper inside of you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please” you begged, tears brimming your water line. Kylian laughed softly, “give me another one bébé, I know you can give me another.” You nodded to his words, focusing on his deep stokes before coming undone at the shout of his name. Kylian didn’t stop, he continued to thrust inside of you even after you cried it was to much.

“I’m gonna cum, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl yeah?” You could only muster a broken “yes” the overstimulation on your clit overpowering. Kylian let out a soft moan, leaning forward to press his forehead onto your shoulder, groaning, dick twitching as he releases inside of you. His thick, hot load creaming your insides as you come another time, your body convulsing as Kylian rode you through your highs.

Weakly, you close your arms behind you and cradle his head by pressing your back against his chest. Once more, he thrusts inside of you, and you can feel his cum spilling out of you, warm and sticky.

“mon capitaine” my captain you spoke softly. Kylian didn’t release his grip on you, instead he pressed a messy kiss to your neck, his light stubble sensitive against your hot skin. You both take short, loud breaths after a minute's pause. His lips wait against your skin, one more kiss squeezed into it, a way for him to channel the immense love he feels.

A victory’s symphony.

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sunkissedchld · 6 months

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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the new jeans CD, pile two is NCT, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don’t be afraid to say if the message resonated or not. it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it’s “bad”.

good luck to you, reader 💿

𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒:

this PAC includes mentions of specific celebrities! this is in an attempt to describe the energy of each pile.

in one pile's moodboard example, i use a tweet from stan twitter to visualize how one's fandom might be. i don't necessarily agree with the example tweet, but it was a good example of the pile's energy, so i used it. it doesn't imply or show my true feelings about that fandom or artist.

additionally, sections of this PAC make reference to adult topics such as sex, drugs, alcohol, addiction, and more. please use your discretion when reading your or each pile.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Cards:

Queen of Swords, The Fool, Four of Wands, Two of Coins

King of Wands (Rx), Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups (Rx), The Devil, Four of Coins, Nine of Coins

Page of Coins, The Emperor

Knight of Swords (Rx), Ten of Swords, King of Swords, Page of Cups

The Star

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be soloists.

the music you make would be hard-hitting and active! tons of choreography would be involved, and you'd make people want to learn your dances even if they weren't professional dancers! a significant amount of your songs might even go viral on platforms like tiktok. your music would be a fresh breath into the music industry; you would probably write your own songs and not be afraid to venture into a variety of music genres. you might do surprise releases (like beyoncé did with her self-titled album)! you'd gain tons of success with your works, so much so that you'd end up throwing celebration parties often due to it! you might find it hard to keep up with so much work (you're probably booked and busy with interviews, concerts, promotions, etc.), but you also love the lifestyle, and that energy shows through the music you make.

in your musical career, you may come off as some sort of diva who knows how to talk their way to success. you come off as someone who has a great personal and professional life. you would have the type of career and life others' dream of having. you may stay in a healthy relationship. again, most of your songs would be upbeat and about happiness - which may be a breath of fresh air in relation to more emotional, heavy music. as you continue throughout your career, you may lean towards that emotional music because of depression or life struggles. you may be worried about the future of your career after your "prime". this might be after a period of time of years of hard work and seemingly little rest; you might fall into addictions to materialism, drugs, or alcohol. you will be protected though! people will be looking out for you and steer you back onto the right path which will keep you from going downhill.

your fans would look up to you a lot. it's giving "these are my kids" energy. you may pay off their student loans or even party with some of them on a night out if you see them. you might appeal to a younger crowd - teens, college, and early adults. your fans see you as fair and as a pillar of authority. they look to you to determine how to move and act as a fandom. you act as the compass for order in their eyes. whatever you say to do, they will do. want to win a specific award? your fans will make sure they buy enough albums and vote enough for you to win it. want to collab with a specific artist? your fans will flood that person's timeline to make sure you two interact. it's almost like they fulfill your wishes! it reminds me of the saying ARMYs have about "anything yoongi wants, yoongi gets".

the general public may have some conflict with you. some people may be prejudiced towards you (maybe because of race, gender, sexuality). some of the public will be hasty to judge you and bash you. this feeling will change fairly quickly. the public will realize they were wrong to judge you and feel horrible about what they did. some people may pray for your downfall and instead bring their own because it's like negativity towards you is reflected back on those who want to harm you; this goes back to you being heavily protected. in the end, the general public will see you as trustworthy and fair. some will think you're very innovative and great at executing your creative ideas. you could become a county's favorite artist. kind of like how Girls Generation is seen as the "Nation's Girl Group'' in South Korea - that would be your title as a soloist. the general public would end up doting over you and loving you.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Cards:

Knight of Swords, The Devil, Four of Wands (Rx), The Hermit

Four of Coins, Five of Cups, King of Wands

The Moon (Rx), The Sun

Page of Coins, The Emperor (Rx)

Ace of Coins

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be the main rapper in this group. your group's music would be fast-paced and energetic. tons of choreography and you all would do major concept changes often. you all would also travel often or experiment with different cultural music. your sound would be bold - you might talk about taboo topics (ie. addiction, sex, violence, obsessions, death). your music might get spoiled before release. there may also be some times when the album is expected to debut on a certain day, and it isn't released until later - maybe because of music clearances or lack of preparation. your music would force people to confront difficult life topics instead of ignoring them. you all would also help people with mental health issues because they relate to the music so well.

your group would achieve a ton, but i still think your company would be a little tight on finances. your company may be cutting it close to making payments on time, but you and the other members would be financially stable. the company would stay afloat, but it's like they struggle with money management maybe? you also would have a strong fanbase and a strong personal group sound (even while exploring so many genres). i feel like your company's struggles would impact the group and bring down morale. you all would have good successes but it's like your company takes you one step forward and three steps back. regardless, you all pushing through would just create more inspiration for music which in turn makes your fans appreciate and relate to you all more.

i feel like fans would feel very protective and proud of you. the mismanagement of funds happening within the company would be revealed to the fans and public, but your fandom still has fierce loyalty to you all. they outwardly call out the mismanagement and want better for you all. you might have a lot of sasaengs because of fans' fierce loyalty to you. specific to you, fans may feel like you're very masculine or heavily into you masculine energy. you may be seen as the "sunshine" of the group. people look to you for happiness; there may be tons of compilations of your funny moments. you're like a light to a room to your fans and others.

the general public learns a lot from you all. that sounds nice, but i think they mostly learn how not to run a company. you all definitely start important societal conversations on taboo topics like explained before, but that really gets overshadowed by company misadventures. people may see your company as young and maybe ignorant of how to be run? they'll feel like your company is abusing their power. you all may not get tons of promotion, so you may only be known to the public for your company's failures.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠

Cards:

Six of Swords, Nine of Wands (Rx), Three of Coins (Rx), Page of Swords

Knight of Wands (Rx), King of Cups, Page of Cups (Rx), Three of Cups, Nine of Coins (Rx)

Five of Swords (Rx), Five of Coins, Five of Cups (Rx), Knight of Swords (Rx)

The Hierophant, Three of Wands (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx)

The Wheel of Fortune

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be a vocalist. your music would have a theme all throughout your discography. it would be very consistent, and the albums would play beautifully altogether. each song would fade into the other and almost seem like a movie with just music. people may think you steal songs or there might be plagiarism controversies. someone from the group might be ousted, and that may be talked about in the music or hang over the group for a long time. this might be connected to the music you make in that your group isn't afraid to talk about being left behind and having to forge your own journey. someone in the group may be lazy.

i think your group might break up, and you become a soloist? then, you'd be left to prove your worth in the music industry. you would come out on top, and let people know that you have a message that you're getting out regardless of the struggles you have to go through in order for it to be heard. i think ultimately you'll be left to work behind the scenes in the music industry - maybe as a songwriter or producer. it'll be the situation of people wanting to hear your words and you wanting to get them out, but it only materializes when it's told through someone else if that makes sense.

your group career would be very messy. again, some members would be lazy; others would have bad attitudes and either be jealous and even violent. there's tons of in-fighting between members, and it's a major mess for everyone involved. you personally will not be like that though! you'd be the member others feel like they can trust and confide in. you're insightful and might even protect your members who are being bullied or on the receiving end of jealousy. similarly to pile two, your group's album would experience delays - due to plagiarism, samples not being cleared, lazy members, etc.

your group produces music that's similar to what you all would be experiencing - troubled and emotional youth, manipulation, moodiness, immaturity, and unrequited love. despite all the in-group issues, you all would experience success for a time! ultimately, it will go away due to company mismanagement and all the group issues coming to light.

fans might not like you because of what messy group members say about you. they'll say you're attention seeking and manipulative even though it's other members doing those exact things and NOT you. you might feel isolated because of the hate you receive. you may think no one likes you, and you might stare off during interviews because you're being ignored. you'd feel really lonely. as you keep going, you will gain strength and feel confident enough in the fact that you know you're a good person despite others believing the opposite. you'll know your truth is more grounding that others' lies. i think this is what will ultimately lead to you preferring to be behind the scenes rather than in the light of the music industry.

i don't think the general public will hate you as much as fans seem to. the general public would be way more understanding of circumstances and would be willing to hear your side of the story rather than blindly believing you members. you'd have a major impact on the collective, and you might even become an expert in whatever you do behind the scenes. i think people will see that you were used by the machine called the music industry and would feel for you. i also think the public would pick up on the fact that you eventually feel unsure about your musical abilities. they'll see you as disorganized because of how the industry left you. your past would be at the forefront of the general public's mind, so it would be best for you to work behind the scenes, so the music can speak for itself rather than you speaking for the music.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐦

Cards:

Five of Swords (Rx), Queen of Coins (Rx), Six of Wands, Strength

Queen of Wands, Knight of Wands (Rx), The Magician, The Hanged Man (Rx)

Page of Swords, King of Swords, Three of Wands

The Star (Rx), Seven of Cups

Four of Cups

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be a main dancer and a vocalist (but not a main vocal). your group's music would be shocking. it would deal with topics like manipulation, gossip, paranoia, and the theme might revolve around uncovering secrets and overcoming those who want to harm you. almost like a horror concept! i'm slightly reminded of xdinary heroes or even rage against the machine. your music would seek to uncover immorality in the world and put it in the face of society instead of trying to hide it like we've been taught to. super unique concept! your listeners get the feeling that they can uncover and fight through anything after listening to your music. the music is very strong (maybe even in the rock genre for some of you), and there's a confidence in the music (including sexual confidence).

there's strong sexual themes in your music. femme fatale and dominatrix vibes are present. this group would be filled with strong female figures who are confident in who they are. in some instances, you all want to be seen as arrogant in order to provide a view of women that's not often seen in the music scene - at least not in a way where women are in control of their own power. this group would play off of gender stereotypes and archetypes in order to make a point to society. again, super creative concepts, and it might even include the occult! like divination tools might be seen in the background of some of your music videos. the point is to show young women that they can be powerful and also know when to hold back in order to show all sides of that power.

your fans might be on the younger side - teens and young adults. they will like giving you handmade messages and gifts. it's almost giving you being the older sibling, and your fans are the younger sibling who looks up to you. they learn a lot about themselves from you, and see you as this intellectual that has great creative ideas. they also see you as just and fair and might come to you for advice. they may see their future selves in you and look up to you because of that. both of you have tons of love for one another (it's so cute!).

the general public may not really like you. you may disappoint them because there's this societal view they have of how gender roles should be enforced or how your group should behave, and you all totally go against that. it's like they're thinking "that group would help themselves out if they just followed with the standards. they make it hard on themselves". they see you all as immoral and a bad influence on the younger society. they also see you all as delusional.

reader's note: do not think of the general public's view as a bad thing! personally, it's important to remember that change only comes when society is forced to confront irrational and prejudicial thinking. if anything, the general public viewing you as this is a compliment in my opinion.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕

Cards:

The Lovers, Eight of Swords, The Emperor, Queen of Coins, The Star

The High Priestess, Ten of Cups, Knight of Swords

Five of Cups, Six of Wands, The Hermit

The Chariot

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd be the face of the group/the center - maybe a visual position? your group focuses on love songs and relationships. you all would talk about all the ups and downs of creating, maintaining, and losing relationships. i feel like on the outside, the concepts of each title track might be visually very different, but the major theme of relationships would always be present. for example, there would be a very rosy and cheery song about how in love you all are in a romantic relationship (like a Twice title track), and then your next comeback would be more solemn and serious about how you lost a loved family member or something like that (like what's mentioned in DaBaby's "Gucci Peacoat"). you all would have long lasting careers and be seen as good senior musicians. you all would probably be very personally involved in the music making process. your music would be very comforting and relatable for whoever listens to it. i think you'd give many people hope when it comes to handling relationships.

i feel like the group's music heavily focuses on emotional connections - so much so that spiritual and occult elements might be present in the process or music videos and things of that nature. your group might be seen as mysterious outside of the music you all make. it's like you all are only focused on the music aspect in the public eye and don't really reveal a ton about your deep personal lives (like siblings or TMIs or things like that). you all really want to emphasize the music! you and your group members would be very close in personal and professional life! you all may feel more like family members rather than friends which will translate into the music. it's like you all will recognize that you'd achieved your dreams all together and you would cherish one another greatly for that. you all may be internationally famous or gather fame quickly - maybe as soon as you debut! it also may be super easy for you all to make and release music.

i get very despondent energy from your fans for some reason? they may frequently feel disappointed with you all - maybe because of how different title tracks and aesthetics can change for you all? it could also be that they're the type of fans that are always focused on how much bigger you all could be, so they never stop to appreciate how far you all have come and therefore they seem ungrateful. they will eventually get over this though! so maybe in the beginning they feel disappointed about how little known and unappreciated you all are, but when you blow up they feel very proud of your successes and feel like all of yours and their effort has paid off. your fans will look to you for guidance and support when it comes to mental health issues and gain personal strength from you. they may like how withdrawn you and your group can be when it comes to disclosing personal information.

i didn't get any cards when shuffling to ask how the general public would view you. i only got the bottom of the deck energy which was The Chariot. i feel like this means your success will be so widespread it's hard to contain how the public views you to a couple tarot cards that may give a more in-depth explanation. they'll see you and your group as having great drive and ambition that leads you all to great success despite a long, uphill battle that comes with pursuing a musical career. i feel like they'd be especially impressed because you all come from a small company? it's like you all started from the absolute bottom to become major stars, and the public finds that admirable.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐠𝐲𝐧𝐲

Cards:

Nine of Cups, The Emperor, Four of Cups, Five of Wands, Six of Wands, The Empress

The Sun, The Fool, Five of Coins (Rx), Three of Wands, Knight of Coins, Four of Swords, Knight of Cups

Three of Cups (Rx), Strength, Page of Coins

The High Priestess (Rx), Five of Swords, The Star, Six of Swords

Ace of Coins

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

off bat, you'd be super successful! i get the feeling you'd always be happy, and that might translate into your music. you may encourage listeners to be happy and invite abundance and gratefulness into their own lives the way you welcomed it into yours. i think you'd be very hands-on with your music, and you'd take the reins in everything you do - i'm almost reminded of beyoncé and how people view her as a perfectionist about her work. despite your perfectionist tendencies, you'd definitely be open to others' ideas, and you'd be nice to work with. people wouldn't have a bad word to say about you in that aspect. you'd be super hypnotic as a celebrity, so people would totally be drawn to you. i think you'd be open about all the "goods" and "bads" of fame. you'd talk about how financial abundance and overflowing love from people is very enticing, but isn't all it's cracked up to be. you'd be open about your struggles, and people would find that refreshing and admire you for your honesty. i think your spirit guides would be guiding you to and throughout fame because you were destined for it. you'd be spiritually protected.

you'd exude energy and success in your music. you might even make perfect manifestation music! your music would be very original, and i believe you'd write music directly from your heart. you wouldn't worry about being "too vulnerable" because you want to be because it's like that's the essence of music for you. you take setbacks from your life and still find hope in them in order to take good from the indecipherable bad. i think that's what would make your music most unique. you'd treat music as your past, present, and future and because of how close you hold it to your heart, it becomes obvious in your music. the point of your music is to show personal growth, and people would connect with that immediately. i also think relationships and romance would be important in your music since your emotions would always be in your songwriting. your breakups, makeups, and new connections would always be written and released to the public - i'm reminded of Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande.

fans (or maybe more so the general public?) may see you like the two artists i just mentioned are viewed - promiscuous, always in a relationship, and maybe even excessive and overindulgent in life and financial endeavors. others will say that you're confident in yourself and your sexuality and find that empowering. they see you as someone who is secure in themself and doesn't need public approval to do whatever you want. there's a subtle, grand confidence in you that people see. your fans may want to be like you and be students of you, writing your every word down. you might be popular with teens and young adults.

the general public will see you as someone who is secretive and doing shady things behind the scenes. they'll feel like your energy and personality is too good to be true. they'll say you're immoral and maybe even involved with the illuminati or something like that. some might even say you're misusing spirituality or witchcraft to get your fame. people would want to speak negatively on you and cause you distress; they might often engage in smear campaigns to lower your credibility. for others, you give them hope. overall, people's negative intentions will not matter because, as said before, you'd be heavily spiritually protected. you'll be able to brush off smear campaigns and negative, false publicity very easily. your foundation is too strong to be broken by bullies and those who are so miserable in their own lives they push it onto others.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Cards:

Knight of Swords, King of Coins, The High Priestess (Rx), Three of Cups (Rx)

Ten of Swords, Nine of Swords (Rx), Three of Wands, Knight of Coins

Queen of Cups, Ten of Cups (Rx), The Fool, Page of Cups

Five of Cups, Five of Wands, King of Wands (Rx)

Judgment

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

you'd be very involved in the musical process. you'd likely write most (if not, all) of your music. anything you make is sure to be a hit. you're ambitious with your ideas, and you're quick to create and hop onto new trends. i get the feeling you wouldn't trust your musical abilities despite how they always seem to work out for you. maybe you need a ton of outside support to finally decide "okay, this is a good idea". you might even be older than expected when you become a musical artist. you might feel unfulfilled in life in general and especially in the music industry despite your successes. you might spend way more money than you have, or you might just flaunt your wealth excessively. you might rely on drugs, alcohol, or sexual adventures as an escape from your feelings of loneliness. it seems you'd be successful but unhappy.

your music may include information about the traumas you have. whatever is causing you to turn to your addictions will be explicitly mentioned in the music you put out. a lot of your music may mention themes like grief, depression, and hardship. it's like your music allows for you to constantly relive your traumatic experiences and that makes it hard for you to heal or create different thematic content if that makes sense. i think once you gained success you thought you would be happy, but it only made it worse because you realized fame and money does not automatically bring happiness. ultimately, i think those around you will urge you to gain confidence and help you to know you're on the right path. you'd slowly but surely become more emotionally stable and start traveling more and feeling more happiness.

your fans would see you as very in tune with your intuition and femininity or feminine energy. they'd see you as caring, sensitive, and emotional. i think that's because those are the elements you use to make your music. they also see you as wildly artistic and creative. they might feel like you come up with music and ideas that no one else would even think of. they'd see you as an innovator. i also think they'd see you as broken or coming from traumatic and undesirable circumstances. i think they'd recognize and feel your pain. they'd view your life in the music industry and your fame as a new beginning for you and would see it as a chance for you to be free from what's hurt you. they might like writing out their love for you through social media campaigns or through giving you handwritten letters. they'd see you as someone who is constantly growing and learning, and they'd feel happy seeing you happy.

the general public may have wishy-washy feelings towards you. they might find out about your addictions and feel disappointed with you. some people will feel empathetic and recognize how your misfortunes affect you and may have the view of "oh, it's horrible that they went through that. i hope they no longer do that and start feeling better and happier". others will feel like you're selfish and didn't appreciate what you were given if you engaged in your addictions while you were successful. they might think "they gained all that money and fame, so why even go down the route of addiction? they were just wallowing in their sadness". very different points of view, so the general public would feel split on their feelings towards you overall.

Playlist:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬; 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Cards:

Ten of Coins, King of Wands, Five of Wands, Temperance, Four of Wands

Nine of Swords (Rx), The Emperor (Rx), Five of Swords, Three of Cups

The Devil (Rx), King of Coins, Six of Cups

Ten of Wands, The Hanged Man

Knight of Coins

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

you might be discovered purely by "chance". maybe you posted a song cover on YouTube or became popular on TikTok, and a label decided to pick you up. your music may have to do with your personal life like your family, how you gained your fame, your life history, and things of that nature. your music would be very motivational and strong. you may be very specific about your aesthetic and visuals because you want to stand out among the artist-filled industry. you would be super competitive when it came to the music game. you might be a rapper? i feel like you'd focus a ton on things like word-play. you also might like making society and listeners think about life, society, and spirituality/their life purpose. i'm reminded of artists like Jhene Aiko and J. Cole. you'd benefit a lot from your fame.

you may be a perfectionist about your craft. you might miss out on healthy sleeping and eating patterns while working on an album. you may love the idea of working yourself until you can't work anymore. you see the struggle of work as a labor of birthing these creative ideas and appreciate each time you can create something new. i know i mentioned earlier that a record label may have wanted to pick you up, but i think you might prefer to be an independent artist. you wouldn't want to be confined to company standards and expectations; you would want to focus on the music. people and companies may want you to fail because of this. they may intentionally block your music from being played on the radio or from being nominated for awards. despite this, you would still gain success from you giving to others and others finding your energy welcoming. a strong group (could be your fans or the collective) would ensure your success.

your fans would see you as someone that breaks free from the societal mold. they'd see you as someone that knows how to think for themselves even if the group wants them to think differently. they also see you as someone that knows how to keep going and growing when shit hits the fan. you'd be seen as someone that doesn't allow for life circumstances to bring them down. they'd see you as a successful business person who has the perfect ear for music and eyes for aesthetics. they may also see you as someone that is very guided spiritually. they can tell someone is watching over you to be sure you succeed in the industry.

the general public would see you as someone who made something from nothing. they may not view you as this huge, international superstar, but you would be somewhat known. some parts of the population would be able to recognize you from a photo or from the mention of your name. some of the public may feel like you're delusional in what you're trying to achieve (especially if you're an independent artist going against big companies). i think the general public would also be able to tell that you're spiritually guided and protected. parts of the public will like that you give a fresh perspective to them and the rest of society. you could begin an idea shift in the collective.

Playlist:

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #tarotblr #sunkissedchld #Spotify

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