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yoonbroom · 8 months

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SEVENTEEN FIC RECS

a list of seventeen fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 also if there wasn't a summary on the fic I just included a little paragraph or the request! now onto the recs ↓

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

HELLO TUTORIAL - @97-liners

oneshot, fluff, college au, frat au

it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). or: in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.

FRACTURED PARENTING, PT.2 - @berriesandjunnie

oneshot angst, fluff, idol au, separated parents au, enemies to lovers

parenting can be an emotional rollercoaster when you’re far from divorced and the flames are far from dying.

YOON JEONGHAN

UNTITLED - @userjuyo

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so <;3"

UNTITLED - @wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship

“what if crabs think that fish can fly?” your question is whispered into the darkness of your bedroom — you gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, while jeonghan curls up beside you.

OF RAINY NIGHTS AND ROSES - @chenfleur

oneshot, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship

In the heat of the moment, Jeonghan grows careless with his words. Now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.

DAISIES - @viastro

oneshot, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers

the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart.

JOSHUA HONG

BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - @chocosvt

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, best friends brother

joshua happens to be your best friend’s older brother. he’s pretty, and he’s got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

IT TAKES TWO - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, fluff, idol au, parent au, est relationship

a family is a little scary when your partner has over millions of fans.

UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"it feels like the sky has only just welcomed the sun when joshua tries to get up to leave."

WEN JUNHUI

HEAVEN COULDN'T WAIT FOR YOU - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, angst, idol au

i just couldn’t stand to see you leaving but heaven couldn’t wait for you.

HAPPY ENDING - @junkissed

one shot, angst, fluff, marriage, est relationship

a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time.

KWON SOONYOUNG

LET ME TRY AGAIN - @papermatisse

oneshot, angst, fluff, exes to lovers, parent au

Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?

(UN)TRADITIONAL - @neonun-au

oneshot, fluff, wedding au, est relationship

"The digital clock on the hotel night stand flashes the next minute as it passes. A re-run of Law & Order: SVU drones on in the background as you sit at the edge of the bed, staring sleeplessly at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door. "

VOWELS AND VERACITY - @hansolmates

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, teacher au, single parent

after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

BE SWEET - @heartkyeom

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, royalty, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance. “That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth. You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.

JEON WONWOO

FOR THE BOOKS - @trblsvt

oneshot, fluff, teacher au, est relationship

wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.

HOW TO FALL - @because-of-a-friend

oneshot, fluff, angst, idol au

"hi!! <3 i love ur acc and i was wondering if you'd be able to write an imagine where you're besties with joshua and he invites you to meet the rest of seventeen for the first time and you instantly fall for wonwoo? maybe some angst but overall fluff? thank you!! no rush!! i love your work!!!"

UNTITLED - @/97-liners

oneshot, fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, childhood friends

"a royalty au where you’re the heir to the throne and wonwoo is your shy (and lowkey bumbling) royal advisor…. he’s smart and always has his head stuck in a book but he’s also painfully awkward and clueless to how deeply in love with him you are. until your parents decide it’s time for you to get married. and suddenly you’re inundated by suitor after suitor, and wonwoo is quizzing them on their credentials and doubting their suitability for you, this one makes brash political decisions, this one spends too freely, this one has no tact for diplomacy. until one day, you turn to him and ask, “you’ve hated every single one of them. who, then, do you think i should marry?” and wonwoo blushes red and presses his lips together."

SCANDAL, PT.2, PT.3, PT.4- @fantasyescapes17

series, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, regency au

this is part of an extensive series that includes other members! you can check it out ⤳ here

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

MEET CUTE OF THE CENTURY - @lovelyhan

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

MARRIAGE - @yikesmary

drabble, fluff, parent au, est relationship

where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE - @/yikesmary

oneshot, fluff, parent au, est relationship

where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.

LEE JIHOON

GUITAR STRING - @leejungchans

oneshot, fluff, angst, royalty au

"“Take me away.” Jihoon’s elegant fingers, previously plucking at his guitar strings, freeze at your words. The soothing, lullaby-like chords he had been playing echo into the inky darkness, carried away by the chilly night breeze."

WE'LL BE OK - @atinykidult

drabble, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” for hurt!Jihoon

LIVE - @wondernus

oneshot, fluff, idol au, est relationship

having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.

MWHA - @cheolism

oneshot, fluff, est relationship

three times you said "mwah" at the end of a kiss and one time jihoon said it back

IM DATING WOOZI - @jihoonotes

oneshot, fluff, smau, est relationship, idol au

y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.

JIHOON'S PUPPY - @rubyreduji

oneshot, angst, fluff, college au

jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it

HEARTSTRINGS - @wavelikewhat

oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol au

You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer.

LEE SEOKMIN

WARM ME UP ! - @ponkwan

drabble, fluff, est relationship

the one where you’re on your third date with seokmin.

KIM MNGYU

HOT OR COLD? - @jjuniehao

oneshot, fluff, est relationship

when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…

BOYFRIEND PHOTOS - @babyleostuff

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au

a sunny date spent with your precious boyfriend

XU MINGHAO

THE LETTER - @toruro

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, brothers best friend, childhood friends to lovers, idol au

in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

BOO SEUNGKWAN

A BEAUTIFUL LIFE - @sungbeam

oneshot, fluff, childhood friends, est relationship

Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.

CHWE VERNON

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE - @suhnshinehaos

series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, smau

the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much

UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au

“vernon, we need to talk.”

OR, WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME? - @thepixelelf

oneshot, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au, soulmate au

A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another… what could possibly go wrong?

LEE CHAN

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, parent au, idol au

no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same.

08:23 AM - @wheeboo

drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au

in which chan is late to dance practice.

want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!

#fic lists📃#seventeen fic recs #svt recs #seventeen fics #seventeen x reader #svt angst #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen idol au #svt fanfic #seventeen dad au #seventeen smau #seventeen friends to lovers au #seventeen parent au #seventeen recs

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blueywrites · 5 days

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u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love!

2.5k

cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭

an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.

enjoy part one! 🩵

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.

You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.

On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.

This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.

It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.

And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.

Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.

"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.

"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.

With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him.

Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.

You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?”

You resent how much you like his stupid face.

The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips.

He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you.

A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.

Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.

Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock.

In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.

Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.

At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you.

A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed.

He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.

“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—

The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

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polarisjisung · 5 months

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MAKEUP, MAKE OUT

synopsis: somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you

wc: 1k

pairings: best friend!renjun × fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: not proofread so there's bound to be some typos

As renjun finds you positioned between his legs, tapping a light brown shade of shimmer over his eyelids, he can't help but wonder how he'd explain the situation should anybody walk in.

How could he explain the fact that his best friend was quite literally seated on his bed straddling him, so close that from any other perspective you'd look at least half way into a heated makeout session, perhaps something more.

Your hot breath fanning his neck, and his own two eyes helplessly trailing over your soft features, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Each and every time he'd find his gaze falling upon your lips, a deep shade of pink. He wanted to kiss you, he realises.

Best friends didn't do that.

Renjun wonders why the thought even comes into mind or why today was the day, despite your countless other attempts at getting him to agree to let you do his makeup, that he'd said yes.

Though he doesn't have to search particularly far for the answer when you tell him to keep still for the nth time

"stay still jun, ugh, nana would've been a much more compliant client"

Renjun could barely stand the thought of you looking jaemin's way, let alone being half as close as you were with him right now, with those long lashes of na jaemin's, that girls would always fawn over, fluttering so prettily in front of you.

"nana huh" he scoffs, great, you're on a nickname basis now

"so moody" you roll your eyes, somehow still smiling down at the boy who wore a frown on his lips, "you're lucky you look pretty" you laugh.

Your laugh is loud, not in an obnoxious sort of way, but in an unapologetically you sort of way, that renjun loved to hear, knowing you opted for softer, quieter and nowhere near as genuine laughs in public. Some part of him glad that this was a laugh only reserved for him.

"you're saying I need makeup to look pretty?" renjun wonders if you can notice the pink creeping up across his face and spreading over his cheeks, hoping you'd think it was simply the blush you had applied a little earlier.

"of course not, I think you're the prettiest right when you wake up" you don't mean to let it slip, a small piece of information you would've liked to think he could have lived without knowing, softly patting the powder against his skin.

"well I think you're pretty all the time" his lips turn upwards slightly, his hands finding your waist "my pretty girl"

you barely seem to notice as he whispers under his breath, too focused on deciding which lips colour would suit him best, the slight crinkle of your brows no less than adorable

Like every best friend had, he'd thought of the possibility of more, with great consideration.

He'd thought about how walking around with your fingers intertwined rather than an arm lazily thrown over your shoulder might've felt, how introducing you as his girlfriend instead of a girl friend could make his heart leap out of his chest and perhaps most importantly how the thought of seeing you with someone else had him balling up his fists and grinding his own teeth against each other.

He knew he liked you, it hadn't been hard to admit to himself, but somehow it didn't seem so easy with you.

"renjun?" you call for the nth time, "which one do you think is better?" you alternate between the two tubes of liquid lipstick, "one or two?" but yet again, renjun seems to be in his own world, eyes glued onto you and yet somehow he's not listening to you at all.

"jun, you're staring" you wave an arm in front of him

he wonders where he'd given up trying to hide how he felt for you, a lazy smirk lining his lips,

"I am" this time, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your jeans, so your chest is flush against his "my pretty girl"

you hum, reaching for a soft brown lip liner

"what are we?" he asks before you can connect the pencil to his lips, shiny eyes causing your breath to catch in your throat

"best friends"

and for the first time ever, renjun finds himself absolutely loathing the confident tone of your voice. How after all these intimate moments, and far too many not so best friend like thoughts did you not see a thing

"have you ever thought about more?" you're scared to nod, but your head moves faster than you can let out the word no and suddenly it seems honesty is the best policy

"I don't think we've been just best friends for a while now" renjun smiles as the words fall from your lips, music to his ears

"then let me ask you again, what are we?"

"you know what we are jun" your voice is softer than before, an airiness to it that renjun finds himself basking in the warmth of.

"I want— no I need you to say it" his voice has reduced to whispers now, lips centimetres apart

"what if I showed you instead"

his thumb traced over you bottom lip, a soft "okay" muttered under his breath as his hands reached up to cup your face, your lips pressed against his in an instant.

he smiles against your lips, another kiss pressed to your lips before he forces himself back.

"you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment" he begins to pepper soft kisses across your face, finally leaning in again, this time taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

You wouldn't dare let him pull away, your breaths deep and rushed as you find your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, strawberry lips perfectly locked with your own.

but when you do take a moment to breathe, your eyes land on a starry-eyed huang renjun staring up at you, looking like the prettiest mess you'd ever seen.

845 notes · View notes

f1rodrigo · 5 months

Text

sweet relief | l. norris | part two

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ baby, i can't help myself...

summary: in which you fall for your best friend’s teammate and keeping it a secret proves to be harder than you intended. or when all you need is sweet relief the rest of the world fades away. pairing: social media au || lando norris x piastri bsf!reader fc: olivia rodrigo <3 warnings: language

inspired by the song ‘sweet relief’ by madison beer

ALL PARTS HERE

a/n : hi! thank you all so much for the love on part one!!! hope you enjoy this one just as much! this was supposed to be a bitttt longer but i hit the limit for photos i can add sooo this is part two for you all! part three will be more like part 2.5 but that'll be up sometime tomorrow! ENJOY<3

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by yourusername, georgerussell, and 728,901 others

landonorris BRINGING THE HEAT

view all 782 comments

user1 its definitely hot in here now

user2 f1 drivers and their obsession with paddle needs to be studied

yourusername bringing the heat indeed

⤷ user3 PARDON? 😧 ⤷ user4 is this flirting... this has to be flirting ⤷ user5 yn bestie was that meant for ur priv.....

user6 please just give me one chance 🙏🏻

lnfour lets gooooo 🔥

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by yourusername, mclaren, and 653,901 others

oscarpiastri ready to shine in Singapore 🇸🇬🤩

view all 567 comments

yourusername SHES GORGEOUS!!!! ready to watch you shine

⤷ user7 i am obsessed with them ur honor ⤷ user8 ughhh i know everyone wants her to be with lando but i am never giving up on my best friends to lovers

mclaren ✨✨✨✨

user9 oh my god i love him so much

user10 ITS SO PRETTY

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by lnfour, team_quadrant, and 366,841 others

landonorris hang it in the Louvre @team_quadrant

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team_quadrant So special to share this helmet with the fans! The Quadrant community designs are looking 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

lnfour This is going to look crazyyyy under the lights 🤯

user11 THIS HELMET IS AB TO GET HIM ON THE PODIUM TRUSTTTT

user12 holy shit he always has the best designs

user13 just won the singapore gp before its even begun 🔥

user14 i couldn't love him more what a special & meaningful design

yourusername beyond sick wow

⤷ landonorris wanna try it on then? ⤷ user15 THIS IS IT IM SLEEPING ON THE MF HIGHWAY TN ⤷ user16 he-he's flirting back ⤷ user17 lando girlies we've lost him

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 212,853 others

mclaren Chillin' together pre-race 🥶

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user18 if theres one thing all f1 teams are gonna do its post their drivers in an ice bath this weekend

⤷ user19 fr but i am NOT complaining 🤭

user20 room for one more or??

yourusername now i need an ice bath

⤷ user21 NAHHHH ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS ⤷ user22 she's about to get a call from pr ⤷ user23 and will we ever know which one of them shes thirsting over??? sigh

landonorris 🥶🥶🥶🥶

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 951,685 others

landonorris whattttttaaaaa weekend ❤️

view all 2,710 comments

mclaren UNREAL 🔥

lnfour best weekend 🫶🏻

yourusername congrats :') so extremely deserved 🧡

⤷ landonorris 🧡 ⤷ user24 stay calm stay calm stay calm its just a heart emoji its just a heart emoji its just a- ⤷ user25 SINGAPORE THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING 🙏🏻 ⤷ user26 its official i am obsessed with them they now own me ⤷ user27 this is great and all guys but i still need my confirmation that she was THERE ⤷ user28 pretty sure theres a video going around on twitter that people think is her with oscar and lando trackside before the race

oscarpiastri 👏

user27 carlando podium woah i am never getting over this🥹

user28 my heart i am so proud of you 😭

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

liked by yourusername, mclaren, and 113,578 others

oscarpiastri +10 places. not a bad night's work 👍

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user29 MY ROOKIE OF THE YEAR LFG

mclaren Unbelieveable job!

user30 MY driver of the day!!!!🫶🏻

yourusername LETS GOOOOO SO PROUD OF YOU THATS MY GOAT

⤷ oscarpiastri people are going to come for you for this you know that right ⤷ yourusername and i will fight them all i said what i said #mygoatfr ⤷ landonorris 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ user31 "thats my goat" pls she is so unserious😭 ⤷ user32 oh my gosh they're the best thing to ever exist its true ⤷ user33 NOT THE HASHTAG SHE IS SO????? ⤷ user34 losing my mind over "i will fight them all" ⤷ user35 LANDOS REPLY???? he really said hello what about ME

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #landoscar #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 2023 #formula one #formula one fic #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri #olivia rodrigo #wallowsrigo #wallowsrigosweetrelief

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charlesslut16 · 4 months

Text

-New Year's kiss-

summary: you and Lando go to a party to celebrate into the new year and it ends a lot other than you had thought...

PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW; smut, explicit sex, curse words, p in v, sub/dom, sexual tension, moaning, fingering, soft sex, making love, slight aftercare, cream pie, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note: This is the longest imagine i have ever written but I thought that it should be longer because of the new year. I hope you like this and have a great start into the new year 2024.

december masterlist ; masterlist

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

The party was in full swing, the music blaring, the alcohol flowing. You were standing beside Lando, your boyfriend of three years, watching your friends dance and laugh.

He slipped his arm around your waist, his fingers trailing lightly over your hip. You glanced up at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room.

“You look amazing tonight,” he whispered in my ear.

You felt your cheeks flush with pleasure.

“So do you,” you replied, taking in the crisp white shirt he wore, the dark slacks that hugged his hips, the black leather jacket draped over his broad shoulders. “You clean up pretty well.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"I thought about taking you upstairs," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "To that empty room we passed earlier." He traced a finger along your lower lip, making you shiver. "I could take you there, show you a real good time before the countdown."

The thought of being alone with Lando, of him touching you the way he had in mind, made your heart race. You nodded, unable to find your voice. He smiled, his lips curving into a wicked grin.

"Good girl," he said before pulling you away from the crowd. His hand slipped beneath your black dress, finding the warmth between your thighs, and you gasped as his touch sent a wave of heat through your body.

The both of you hurried up the stairs, taking you two at a time, and when you reached the empty room, he pushed you against the wall and kissed you deeply.

His hand slid up your dress, cupping your bare ass, and then he was lifting you, your legs wrapped around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you to the bed, the rough texture of his jacket teasing your sensitive skin.

He set you down gently, his eyes burning with desire, and then he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it carelessly aside. You watched, mesmerized, as he peeled off his jacket, revealing the smooth, muscled chest you had fantasized about all night.

He kicked off his shoes and socks, and then he was back at your side, his lips trailing down your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

You arched into him, wanting more of his touch, and he seemed to understand, his hands moving over your body with a familiarity that made you feel completely exposed and completely desired.

He unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts, and you gasped as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. Your hips arched off the bed, and you cried out, your fingers tangled in his hair.

Time seemed to stand still as you made love, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm. Lando's hands found their way back between your legs, teasing and pleasuring you, and you could feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

You could taste the sweat on his skin, and smell the intoxicating mix of his cologne and sweat, and as the final moments of the year ticked away, You felt a surge of love and desire for him that was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Just as the clock struck twenty minutes before midnight, he slid inside of you one last time, his movements hard and urgent. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, your nails digging into his back as you felt the most exquisite pleasure coursing through your body.

As you came together, your lips met in a passionate kiss, and you knew that at this moment, with Lando, you had found everything you had ever wanted.

When at last your breathing had slowed and your hearts had stopped racing, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. You lay there for several minutes, your foreheads touching, your skin still damp with sweat.

"I love you, my love." You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I love you too," You whispered back. "I'm so lucky to have you."

You stayed like that for a while longer, lost in the afterglow of your lovemaking, and then, reluctantly, he slid out of You. He leaned forward, his lips finding yours again, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

As your kiss deepened, you could taste the sweetness of your shared passion on his tongue, and you knew that this was only the beginning of something incredible.

"We need to get downstairs to the others, so we can celebrate toegther in the new year" he stated, his voice low and intimate.

"And we can get you your New years kiss, that you wanted since the start of the year.." you nodded happily, your heart still racing from your lovemaking. "That sounds amazing."

He helped you sit up carefully, and you looked around the room, feeling a bit disoriented. He smiled, seeing the confused look on your face.

"Don't worry, I'll help you get your bearings back," he said, sliding his hands up your thighs. He kissed you again, this time more gently, and then stood, offering you his hand. You took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

You made your way down the hall and onto the balcony where you freinds already stood, the cool night air causing goosebumps on your skin.

Lando wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Below you, the city of Cloud City was ablaze with light, and the air was filled with the sounds of revelry.

As you waited for the fireworks to begin, you watched the people below, laughing and singing, their faces lit up with excitement and joy.

Suddenly the clock struck midnight and Lando pulled you into him, your lips met and you kissed. Around you, your friends wished you all a happy New Year.

Your best friend took a picture of you both and sended it to you, so you could see it when you were alone. She was your biggest support, as was Lando.

The kiss that you both shared ended and you looked into his eyes, which were filled with love for you. You both let go of each other, so Lando could pull you into his side and watch the fireworks.

"Happy New Years, my love. I hope that we will share many more." Lando whispered in your ear.

"Happy New Years, Lan. I hope that this will be just a good year, as the last one."

Below you, the city started making everything ready for the fireworks and the festive emotions. The City looked colorful and festive, just like it should.

"They're about to start," he said, nodding toward the sky. Sure enough, the first burst of light exploded above you, painting the clouds a brilliant shade of red. "Ooh," you breathed, your eyes fixed on the sky.

"That's beautiful."

Lando smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling.

"I know. Isn't it amazing?"

He leaned forward, kissing you softly before turning back to watch the fireworks. The display above you was inspiring, with each new burst of color and light seeming more beautiful than the last.

The sky seemed to dance with the colors of the rainbow, and you felt a sense of wonder and happiness wash over you. At that moment everything was perfect.

As the last of the fireworks faded away, leaving behind a trail of smoke and sparkles, Lando took your hand in his.

"Well," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"I think that about does it for the official celebration. But I have a feeling there's still some fun to be had inside." He winked at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"I think I'm up for that," You replied, squeezing his hand. "Where do you suggest we go?" He grinned, that mischievous glint back in his eye.

"Well, there's a little private party going on in the room upstairs… if you're interested." Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time alone with him, and you could feel myself blushing.

"I think I'd like that very much," You whispered, leaning into him, the party outside fully forgotten.

He led you back inside, your fingers still entwined, and up the stairs to the room. The music was loud, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and desire.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way through the crowd, the press of bodies against you adding to the sensuality of the moment.

When you reached his room, he shut the door behind you, plunging you into darkness. You felt his hands on my hips, his lips moving down your neck, and then he was kissing you, his tongue dancing with yours.

You moaned into his mouth, pressing your body against his, feeling the hardness of his erection through his pants. He was hard and thick.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and then began to unbutton your blouse. His fingers were deft and gentle as they peeled the fabric away, revealing your bra.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing down your chest. "I can't wait to see you out of this." His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts over the lace of your bra.

"Let me help you with that." He unclasped my bra with practiced ease, and my breasts spilled free, the cool air brushing against my nipples.

You gasped as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. Your hips arched off the floor, and you cried out, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He moaned around your nipple, and then moved to the other breast, treating it to the same attention. He loved touching, licking and sucking you and on you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he continued to tease and pleasure you, his hands moving lower, caressing your stomach, tracing the line of your underwear.

"Lando…" You breathed, your voice husky with desire. "I want you." He smiled up at me, his eyes dark and hungry. He pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside, and then lifted you into his arms.

"Well, come here, then," he growled, carrying you over to the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath your weight as he laid you down, and he followed, pressing his body against yours. His hands roamed over your skin, touching and caressing, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

He kissed you again with passion, his tongue dancing with yours, and then trailed his lips down your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin there.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, as his hands found their way beneath your shirt. He pulled it off over your head, revealing your naked body to his touch.

His fingers traced the line of your collarbone that was laced with hickeys, and then traveled lower, over your flat stomach and the curls of hair above your mound.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He positioned himself between your legs, his erection hot and hard against your entrance.

Slowly, he guided himself inside you, filling you up completely. You gasped at the sensation, feeling him stretch you in ways you hadn't expected.

He slowly began to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, faster. He obliged, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lost himself in the sensation of being joined with you.

The bed creaked beneath you, the sheets tangled around your limbs, but neither of you cared. All that mattered was the connection you shared, the fierce and consuming desire that burned between you.

As the intensity of your lovemaking built, you felt yourself begin to lose control, your body spiraling higher and higher on a wave of pleasure.

And then, with a cry that was part ecstasy and part release, you came, your body shuddering beneath him. He followed close behind, his voice raw as he called out your name.

You lay together, panting and sweaty, as your hearts raced in unison. Lando rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

"You're amazing," he said, brushing the hair from your forehead. "You know that, right?" You smiled up at him, feeling more connected to him than you ever had before.

"I think you're pretty amazing yourself, Lan" you whispered. He grinned happily, kissing you tenderly. "Well, I'm glad we agree on something."

He leaned down to kiss you again, his lips soft and gentle against yours. His hand trailed down your stomach, over the dip of your hip, and then lower still, cupping your ass.

He pulled you closer, pressing your hips together, and began to rock his hips against yours in a slow, rhythmic motion. You arched your back, moaning into his kiss as the feeling built between you again.

Lando broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck to my collarbone. His fingers moved between you, finding your aching center again, and began to stroke in time with his thrusts.

You gripped the sheets, digging your nails into the fabric as the pleasure coursed through you. His free hand moved up to cup your breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb.

As you lost yourself in the sensation, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if your bodies were made for each other, moving in perfect harmony, each touch sending sparks of desire flying between you.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him, and saw the same intensity reflected in his gaze. He was beautiful, you realized, in a way that went beyond his physical appearance.

There was a depth to him, an understanding of the world and of people that you found both captivating and terrifying.

But at this moment, with his body joined with yours, all you could focus on was the feeling of being truly known and truly loved. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the rough stubble against your fingertips.

He groaned, thrusting deeper, and you arched your back, meeting him stroke for stroke. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected in a way that defied explanation.

And then, as if a dam had broken, you felt yourself begin to lose control, your body tense and shudder with the force of your orgasm. Lando followed close behind, his eyes locked on yours as he let out a shuddering cry, spilling his release into you.

Your bodies slowly relaxed, collapsing together onto the bed, as the last waves of pleasure washed over <ou.

You pressed your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear.

"Lando," you whispered, your voice still shaky with emotion. "I don't know what just happened, but I don't ever want it to stop." He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, and smiled. "Me neither, love," he said, kissing the top of your head. "Me neither."

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munivrse · 10 months

Text

11:32pm

Jake couldn't help but admire how pretty you looked while talking up his friends. Tonight you both were sat in a booth on the terrace of a wine bar, the party as whole more tipsy than anyone would like to admit.

Jake takes the time to admire your pretty little outfit. He thinks the color dress you chose matches your skin tone so well that he cant help but feel his cheeks heat up. He wants you. right now. he takes one hand and presses it to your thigh, the other coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear as you continue conversing with his friends.

you take a bit of a break, looking back to see jake flashing his million dollar smile. you give him a quick kiss and turn back around to continue doing the conversating as it was clear that Jake was going to be of no use.

Jake licks his lips. he needed to figure out how to get you the fuck out of this bar and on to his bed. he scoots closer to you, the hand on your thigh inching up, breath fanning at the back of your neck. he looks around, scanning the crowd to make sure there were no peaking eyes. as soon as he confirms safely, he presses a kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

"Y/n..."

the scratchiness of his voice makes your thighs rub together. you muster up the courage to respond,

"yes jaeyun?"

"lemme take you home," jakes hand begins to shimmy its way in between your thighs.

"stop playing, we are out with your friends."

jake scoffs and continues to move his fingers deftly up your thighs, now reaching the outline of your panties,

"I'd fuck you in front of them too but i figured you'd be more comfortable in our bedroom."

You turn around, scandalized. cheeks red and jaw just about on the floor. jake sees this and giggles, reaching to close your mouth,

"careful baby, you'll catch flies."

"Jake I'm serious. let me socialize in peace."

jake pretends to think about it and then sits back with a sigh, hand now moving up and down your thigh.

he ponders more on how to get you into his bed. at this point he's nearly salivating. you have a pretty vivienne westwood choker on and it's making him dizzy. he sits up again to whisper in your ear,

"c'mon baby, let me take care of you, hmm?" jake softly kisses your earlobe.

you sigh in contentment, letting jake continue his ministrations,

"don't you want me to make you feel good? stretch you out? make you cum?"

jake is now leaving kisses behind your ear and down your neck. it's a miracle nobody's noticed.

you sigh again, a slow nod forcing its way out. jake jumps up and announces that you guys are gonna have an early night in. after some swift goodbyes, you are walking out of the bar, jake bouncing as he walks.

he walks behind you with his hands pressed against your stomach, whole body pressing against you to hide how hard he is,

"Y/n i swear to god i'm gonna let you ride my face for hours."

you giggle in return, swatting at his hands. secretly you hoped he meant it.

And mean it he did.

you'd gotten home an hour ago, stripping clothes starting at the door, heavy petting through the kitchen, fucking the first round out in the hallway, the second round on the edge of the bed, and now you're hovering over jake's face.

Jake kisses where he can reach on your thighs trying to coax you into relaxing.

"Y/n, baby, I know you're nervous but if i die i promise i'll die a happy and content man."

"you're so fucking unserious sim."

you begin to climb off when jakes hand grabs you by the thigh,

"you tryna take this pretty pussy away from me?"

his hands move up to your hips, guiding you back over his mouth.

"sit y/n."

your legs shake out of nerves. you'd never sat on a mans face before out of fear of suffocating them and your previous partners we're never great at giving and would much rather be on the receiving end. Jake, however, was a giver. Jake loved to give. jake would eat your pussy all day long if you'd let him.

"Please baby, sit on my face."

Jake looks up at you with puppy eyes and you cant help but give in. As you lower yourself down jake whimpers out, mouth in search of your cunt before you are fully situated.

After 15 minutes, jake has made you cum twice, refusing to let you up until hes covered in you.

"jake- please baby"

jake hums and continues moving his tongue in and out of you, thumb circling your clit.

"I'm too sensitive."

you try and push his head away. jake grunts,

"one more baby. please give me one more."

"jaeyun..."

Jake looks up at you, pupils blown wide, cheeks red and lips glossy.

"I need it angel, just one more for me."

You think on it for a second. your legs are sore and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

"My thighs hurt."

jakes eyebrows raise in concern,

"You wanna stop?"

you quickly shake your head no- as sore as you were there was nothing quite as hot as pussy drunk jake. your first two orgasms he mightve been moaning more than you.

jake begins to kiss at your thighs, massaging them.

"tell me you want to keep going. I'll flip you over and bury my head between your thighs so that you won't have to lift a finger, but i need you to tell me you want it."

your stomach swirls delightfully,

"I want it."

jake gives you a boyish grin,

"'Atta girl."

#black coded reader #wrote this just bc i think jake would say atta girl #agree with me please #jake enha #jake sim #jake enhypen #enhypen #enhypen smut #kpop #kpop smut #smut

918 notes · View notes

levilxvr · 5 months

Text

tequila

PAIRINGS: levi x afab!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw 18+, alcohol consumption, drunk behaviour

SUMMARY: you and the captain have had something going on for the longest time. during the trip to marley, when you encounter a drunk jean trying to hit you up, levi decides to takes things into his own hands.

this took me forever hope y’all like this filthy piece of fiction😗

“come on, captain, just one shot?” eren slurs out as he motions to levi with half lidded eyes. you’re in the bar of a marleyan hotel with the scouts, enjoying drinks and basking in each others’ company. levi rolls his eyes. no way is he having one of those- the last thing he wanted was to get all silly and drunk in front of everyone.

of course, you let mikasa and sasha bribe you into having a shot of tequila. knowing your alcohol tolerance was pretty horrible, you chose to stick with one and went to hang out with levi on the side. Everyone knows you guys have something going on- it’s been like this for months, but neither of you have ever made it official.

Anyway. everything felt so much more laid back and free, you’ve got nothing to worry about and-

“hey,” levi calls softly. you barely heard him over the music blaring from the speakers, adding to the serotonin running through your veins. his hands are on your cheeks. “you’re turning red.” your face feels like it’s heating up- even warmer with his thumbs grazing the skin gently. it’s probably just the effect starting to kick in.

“must be the tequila.” you giggle a little and he sighs. The captain isn’t much of a fan of alcoholic drinks, seeing no purpose in it other than getting you drunk and horny.

“im gonna get you some water. and a juice for myself.” he tells you to stay put at the glass counter as he disappears into the crowd to find the bartender. you intend to stay there and wait for him when someone walks by and pulls you towards him with a strong arm, your body slamming against his as he lets out a sigh. Recognising the man as jean, you feel a little bit too lightheaded to do anything so you let him drag you along to the table with connie, sasha and the rest.

“feels great to unwind, huh?” connie mumbles, body flopped against the table as he struggles to keep awake. You could tell they’ve all had too many drinks based on the way they were behaving. but the foggy feeling in your brain only increased and you couldn’t resist when jean turned to your face and pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. “feels even better with this one here.” you gasp and try to wiggle out of his grip.

“jean cut it out, she might be dating captain levi!” armin jumps in, looking around. that’s right, where was levi? you recalled him wandering off to get something, but now..

oh well. he’d probably come back to this table anyways.

“want another?” sasha smirks and hands you the small glass. “same thing.”

you take it without thinking twice and down it all at one go. a little more won’t hurt, will it? after all, that’s what you were here for. to have fun. about half an hour later you don’t see any signs of levi still so you relax into jeans side and let the calming sensation drown out the rest of your thoughts.

“how many shots you had?”

you managed to slur. the question is directed to sasha but clearly jean is too intoxicated to care. “ion know, probably like four or something.” he squeezes you again. “god, connie, isn’t she sexy in this dress?” he reeks of alcohol and you shift uncomfortably.

he’s about to reply when everyone freezes.

“what’re you doing jean.”

the table goes silent and you force yourself to turn around, just to see levi standing behind you and jean with a scowl on his face. if there’s anything levi hates more than filth, it’s seeing someone else treat you as if you don’t belong to him.

“l- levi..”

he shoves jean’s arm away and picks you up, nearly collapsing when your body falls against his. “shit, you had another one didnt you?” he narrows his eyes at the empty glass, along with a dozen more scattered on the table from the others. you can only nod halfway and look at him with a lidded gaze.

“whatever. you drunken brats can continue partying till dawn. im returning back to the hotel with y/n first.” he picks you up bridal style, pushing his way through the crowd, to the lobby and up the lift to the hotel room you had to share with him for the week.

once you’re in, he places you down gently onto the bed. he takes off his black blazer and tie, helping you out of your heels as he heads to the water dispenser and hands you a glass.

“drink up. you’re gonna get a shitty hangover in the morning.” he places a hand on your back to support you as you gulp down the water, then slouch into his embrace as he envelopes you in a tight hug. the room is completely silent for a minute until you break it.

“levi, are you mad?”

“whatever for?”

“jean. ‘m sorry, my head felt so fuzzy, i couldn’t..”

“shh..it’s not your fault, it’s okay. just..watch your intake next time. who even gave you a second shot?” he has so many thoughts going through his head right now.

“sasha.”

he scoffs, but holds you as he pulls your body down while he adjusts himself into the silky pillows. “I was gonna come back earlier but hange and erwin popped by and i had to entertain them for a bit.”

“mm..”

you’re looking right into his eyes now. god, he looked so fucking cute in that white blouse and dress pants, the collar unbuttoned so you could see just the faintest bit of muscle. his hands are on your lower back, and of course he’s thinking about how pretty you look tonight.

you specially chose this black dress because he liked it, along with the lace lingerie hiding underneath the layers of ebony silk..but now wasn’t really a good time, was it? you were literally drunk at this point and the best thing to do right now would be to sleep it off. but with the way your pelvis was pressed against his, and how close your tight dress was to revealing the perfect curve of your ass…

“y/n,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. he’s recalling the sight he witnessed earlier. the way jean had an arm securely around your waist, his lips on your delicate skin, the way he was staring you down with that lustful gaze.

how dare anyone try to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. everyone knows jean is the kind to get all horny and touchy when he’s drunk. But still, you belonged to him and only him. and fuck it, he had to demonstrate that right now in order to assure himself that no one else could ever take you.

without thinking twice his lips were on yours, swallowing the soft gasp that left your own at the sudden contact. he doesn’t even wait to push his tongue past your lips, brushing against yours as the kiss deepens and his hands slide under the hem of your dress. his thumb runs circles on the plush skin of your thigh, making you grip his shoulders harder.

Everything feels more sensitive now. you can almost feel the electricity running through your veins as he pulls away, loosening the spaghetti straps as the fabric slides off your body.

his cock his nearly throbbing in his pants, pushing against the seams as he admires you. He cursed himself for not acting on his feelings sooner. he wanted to mark every inch of you, show you just how well he could love you. but with your current state he had to chide himself internally, reminding himself to go slow.

he supports you as you straddle his hips, sitting on your knees as he unclips your bra with one hand, the other tracing the laced patterns of your panties.

“you alright? can i continue?”

levi gets your nod of approval, slipping a hand down to caress the sensitive area, eliciting a small whimper from your swollen lips. your face is flushed, hair tangled from his fingers. watching him closely, you bite your lip as he presses down on your clit, rubbing tiny circles on the small bud as his free hand moves to touch the bulge in his pants.

“look at what you do to me baby,” he moans, cursing at the dark patch that’s beginning to spread on the surface of the black fabric.

minutes later he’s desperately pulling your underwear off, the cold air hitting your exposed cunt as he dips two fingers into the wetness accumulating at your slit. levi lifts them and lets the clear, sticky fluid glimmer in the warm light of the bedside lamps, then brings his fingers to his lips and shamelessly sucks off your arousal.

“tastes so sweet, now i really wanna eat you out..”

“then do it.” you almost beg. You’ve never felt this needy in your life. the way he was gazing at you as he licked off your juices from his slender fingers almost made you cum on the spot. He pushes your back down onto the mattress and spreads your legs, resting his hands on your thighs as he leans down and kisses your clit.

“look at how wet you are baby, so good for me..” he smiles against your folds and slowly starts using his tongue on you, fucking you skilfully as your hands plunge into his hair. You’re chanting his name breathlessly like a prayer as he continues eating you out until you can’t take it anymore. he starts sucking and licking your small bud, hard, as his middle finger slides into your pussy and curls against that one spot.

“levi levi levi, oh fuck!”

you feel yourself squirt on his face as he continues lapping up your juices, fingers still fucking you through your blissful orgasm as more of the clear liquid sprays onto his hand and wrist.

“shit, y/n, you’re so fucking hot, i think…”

levi pauses for a moment, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his pants. “i think you made me cum already,” he lets out a breathy groan as he stares in disbelief at the mess he made of himself. watching you cum so hard from just his fingers had him creaming himself, remains of the milky liquid running down the shaft of his red, swollen cock.

you’re breathing hard, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you sit up and cup your palms on his cheeks.

“i want you, like really bad.”

“im all yours to take.” he smiles softly, holding you down again as he positions himself at your entrance. he slaps his cock against your wet folds, hissing because of how sore and desparate he is. he buries himself inside you immediately, watching his thick shaft disappear into your tight little cunt.

He’s whispering how much he loves you, your voice, your personality, everything. Months of love and pining poured out in the sweet words he’s breathing, his fingers twining with yours as you lift your legs so he can go deeper. There’s so much emotion in his grey eyes, maybe it’s just the alcohol, or maybe it’s because of your earlier encounter with jean and the rest. Either way, you’re still sensitive from your first orgasm and soon you feel the heat building up in your core again, walls clenching around his cock as you both reach your highs together.

“that’s it baby, look at you taking me so well, fuck..” he empties himself inside you, groaning when he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, practically sucking in his cum. You’ve never felt this good in your life, especially considering that levi has never had any prior experience.

“holy shit,” he gasps, slowly pulling out of your swollen cunt as he holds you in a loving embrace, breathlessly falling beside you. “you feeling ok?”

that’s when the dull headache hits, and you close your eyes.

“yeah just a small headache.”

he caresses your face, smiling softly. in his head there’s only two words. she’s mine. Levi leans over and presses one last kiss to your lips before you fall asleep. And he stays there with you for the rest of the night, your body tucked against his.

the next morning, you don’t feel as shitty as you expected. You down another cup of water, wash up and head downstairs to the breakfast buffet with levi. It’s nearly empty, except for a few scouts and random marleyans staying in the hotel.

“think they’re all sleeping in after last night. I’m surprised you’re feeling ok?” he raises his eyebrows while plating a croissant for you.

you laugh. “i expected a horrible hangover too. anyways, what did you plan to do today?”

“nothing much. everyone’s shacked out from last night so.. maybe go sightseeing with my girlfriend.” he plants a kiss on your cheek as you walk down to the fruit section. girlfriend. your heart warms at the name and you take his hand.

Suddenly you’re glad sasha gave you that extra tequila shot.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi x reader smut #levi smut #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi ackerman #this took me WAYY too lomg #i kinda like it tho #screaming without the s #levi x fem!reader

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meaningofaeons · 9 months

Note

Your writing is so pretty !! I really love your characterization ngl. I feel like you're great at keeping them in character! I was wondering if you could do some hcs of Blade, Dan Heng and Gepard having a crush on a more experienced/older member? For an example, Dan Heng having a crush on an experienced Nameless who was on the Express before him and sort of was the one who was more hands on with helping him learn the ropes. The same implies with the other two for their respective occupations. Idk, I see a lot of character x new member person but never the reverse. I think it's a little cute lol.

Thank you for reading and thanks double if you write it!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ seniority

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, blade, dan heng ⊹ word count - 1.9k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, reader is a silvermane guard lieutenant (gepard)/a senior member of the stellaron hunters (blade)/a senior member of the Nameless (dan heng), reader pretty much implied to be older in these, at least in terms of like physical appearance/age

hi anon!!! ♡(ﾐ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﾐ)ﾉ I was a big fan of this req ever since you first sent it in! I agree, there's so many "omg reader is an inexperienced baby and the character helps them and falls for them<3" but where's my characters getting swept off their feet by READER who's the senior member fr?!?!? no hate to anyone who writes the former, but I really like strong and capable readers !!!!! enjoy the req <3

⊹ Gepard Landau

Gepard pretty much knew you from the second he joined up with the Silvermane Guards.

As a Landau, it was always his duty, so he'd striven to do his best. However, just because it was his duty to stand at the top of the Supreme Guardian's defenses, doesn't mean he never looked up to anyone.

Despite being similar in age, you'd been a member of the guards far longer than he, enough to stand at the rank of Lieutenant before he had even joined.

At first, it really was just admiration. That, and a sense of seeking mentorship.

He'd follow you around like a lost puppy, the then-humble private Gepard trying to get any pointers he could from you

Would ask you to train with him now and then, or would ask how he can best show his dedication to the guards

Being so busy, however, you rarely had time to entertain these wishes.

Even as a Lieutenant and not a Captain, there were certain duties you had to uphold yourself. If you bowed to the whims of every Silvermane Guard, you'd be nothing more than an errand runner, or perhaps just a simple trainer.

You did notice him, though—how could you not?

He was the eldest son of the Landaus, of all families.

Not to mention, his achievements already far outweighed his ranking.

You only provided minimal guidance when he sought it, and yet here he was, smashing every expectation.

Gepard didn't of you as anything other than a superior, someone to strive after and look up to. Even as he took the ranking of Captain and rose above your station, he still deferred to you on many things.

He would seek your advice in handling situations, and the two of you began working closer every day.

Outside of normal duty, the two of you began talking as well—however, it was mostly about work.

Even with all of that, he still saw you as nothing more than someone to be respected. He still saw you as just a superior, surely. That's all it was.

Those fluttering feelings in his chest when you bested him in a spar? Pure awe at your superior strength and wit in battle.

The heating of his cheeks when you'd toss him your water flask, telling him to drink up and get back on his feet? Just a minor cold, he was sure of it.

Well, for a while, at least, he could justify it as such...

One day, he arrived to his greenhouse after work—a place for his lackluster hobby of keeping flowers—only to find you, the Lieutenant he admired, watering each bud and taking careful care of each petal.

"W-What are you doing here, Lieutenant Y/N?!"

"Ah, forgive me for intruding. Ms. Sergeyevna was unavailable, so Serval asked me to check on your flowers."

You then chuckled a bit.

"Also, you're above me in ranking now, Captain Gepard. No need for the formalities."

And when you smiled, it sent a bolt of lightning straight through Gepard's chest—something he couldn't brush off or ignore any more.

You looked radiant.

He had to get out of there quickly.

"W-Well, thank you for your help! I best be off..."

Before he left, though, he couldn't help but pause, fidgeting at the door.

"Something the matter?"

"Erm..." Gepard was stammering, ready to smack himself over the head for his blunder. "I-If there's no need for formalities, then there's no need for you to refer to me as 'Captain' outside of work, Lieute—" He cut himself off. "Y/N... So..."

You only smiled.

"Okay, Gepard."

When Gepard ran (or rather, stiffly marched) back home after that little exchange, he was beating himself up mentally for such a foolish request.

And yet, the red of his cheeks and the pounding of his heart never did quite dissipate.

⊹ Blade

In Blade's mind, there wasn't much to say about you.

You were a fellow Stellaron Hunter—so?

He was mostly only assigned to Kafka thanks to her Spirit Whisper calming his mara.

Not to mention, the day he arrived to the Stellaron Hunters, you weren't even present. On a mission, as Elio had said.

However, the two of you would eventually cross paths when Kafka was assigned to a separate mission (after ensuring Blade would be stable during her absence, of course).

"This is Y/N. They have assisted the course of destiny for many years now. Be courteous to them."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Blade."

The first thing Blade noticed was how you were... warmer than he expected.

Kafka didn't have much to say on you other than non-answers (her usual go-to for any questions) and Silver Wolf had only mentioned you being scary.

Had she perhaps meant... in battle?

Surely the person before him wasn't scary in any capacity.

You were skilled, yes—once he went on jobs with you, he could easily tell why you were still a successful member of the Stellaron Hunters.

In any other situation, perhaps he would've said he admired your prowess.

However, you were still but an enigma, and for a long time, Blade didn't like that.

He chose to keep his distance where he could. While he would obey you in missions to assist Elio to his full capacity, he never actively hung around you if he didn't have to.

Despite this, you seemed to hang around him as much as you pleased, and against his obvious displeasure.

"Blade, would you like a snack? I brought plenty for this particular job, since it could get long."

"That coat can't be comfortable all the time. Why don't we go and get you a new one? It's not bad to have options."

"Is your hair getting in the way? I can braid it or tie it back."

He'd never answer you at first. Your kindness was uncomfortable.

However, one day, he did. And he still doesn't quite know why.

"Blade, your bandages are unraveling again. Should I rewrap them?"

"...If you must."

You had stopped at that. Blade actually answered you?

"Haha, I was beginning to wonder if you had a voice at all! C'mere, I'll do those right up for you."

The gentle feeling of your hands redoing the bandages across his battered body did not make Blade flush, nor did his heart rate accelerate.

But a fuzzy feeling had wormed its way into his chest, and he didn't want to think about what it could mean.

But even if he didn't think about its meaning, surely it wouldn't hurt to pursue it from time to time?

It certainly felt better than the agony of mara rife through his walking corpse of a body.

Blade began spending time with you, even outside of missions.

You were reading somewhere? He'd suddenly appear beside you, claiming to be at a loss for things to do, thus he decided to sit for a while.

You were in your room? He'd ask if he could sit in the corner and polish his sword—the lighting in your room was best for such care.

You were about to head out on a solo mission? He'd either ask Elio to accompany you and appear just as you were to head out, or if he was denied, he'd ask you to tie his hair back before he went in case he was called out—Kafka and Silver Wolf, he claimed, could never do it quite right.

It's honestly very endearing.

This big, scary beast of a man becomes a stubborn kitten in your presence, never willing to admit he desires your presence but seeking it out anyways.

And to Blade, that's fine.

He doesn't need words to tell you how he feels.

Hell, he'd probably be loathe to speak his feelings into existence himself. He's still in denial.

He'll continue to show you in just the way he always has—being as close by your side as he can.

⊹ Dan Heng

Unlike with Blade, Dan Heng has some level of interest in you from the start.

You're there when Himeko brings him aboard, introducing him to her fellow Nameless as the newest member.

To be fair, though, he does have some sort of interest in every member of the Nameless, but something about you is a tad different.

You appear younger than Himeko or Welt, likely closer to his own physical age.

That alone makes you somewhat more approachable.

Not that Dan Heng is really approaching anyone on the express right away, though...

It definitely takes you stepping up and approaching him first for him to open up.

It probably starts with you helping him out.

He's always diligent about obeying your advice and help.

As independent as Dan Heng can be, he's respectful to your authority as a more experienced Nameless.

(Not that there's much of a hierarchy or seniority in the Nameless, but he respects you anyhow.)

He's having trouble compiling all the information for a certain entry? You're pointing out things he missed, sort of like a beta reader.

When the two of you are exploring the latest planet you've stopped by, you keep him safe against dangerous monsters (not that he's incapable of fighting, but he appreciates the assistance)

If he's looking for the next volume of a book he's been reading, you're the first to find and get it for him.

And if it's not on the Express, you fetch it for him elsewhere.

You're very open, which he's not used to—Himeko and Mr. Yang tend to leave him to his own devices, after all—but it's not a bad feeling, per se.

He begins to take notice of the ways you stand by him, help him, watch his back.

Not to mention, the manner in which you try to ensure he's welcome at every turn, considering your senior status as one of the Nameless and his relative recent arrival.

As you spend time with him, it's only a matter of time before you can nonverbally understand the quiet Xianzhou native.

"..."

"Hmm, I see. I'll go get you the latest volume, Dan Heng. I'm sure they sell it on this planet, too—I've been to their bookstores before."

"Thanks."

Himeko and Welt don't really know quite what goes on when this happens.

Over time, you're always the first to communicate for Dan Heng if he isn't present, which he truly does appreciate.

"Dan Heng would like whatever, as usual. Can you prepare the breakfast I had last time, Pom-Pom? He seemed to enjoy it when he tried mine."

"Oh, Dan Heng won't be joining us. Said he needs to organize the archives."

To anyone else, it might just look like a senior Nameless taking the new guy under their wing, but Mr. Yang and Himeko both grew to know better.

They both saw the way that Dan Heng looked at you when he thought no one else was looking at him.

Or perhaps he just didn't care as long as you didn't see the way his eyes shone, an almost imperceptible affection shining behind them.

They both noticed how Dan Heng would go out of his way on planets you weren't exploring to buy you a souvenir, or get you a snack reminiscent of your favorites.

Even March—when you, along with the other Nameless, finally discovered her and rescued her from her ice-prison—as a relatively new member could catch on to how he felt in just a few short weeks.

"Hey, Y/N! Are you and Dan Heng dati—"

"Shh!"

The pink-haired girl eventually had her curiosity sated every time she got to take a photo of Dan Heng's ever-slight smile at the sight of you returning to the Express.

#gepard x reader #dan heng x reader #danheng x reader #blade x reader #gepard landau #gepard landau x reader #gepard #blade #dan heng #danheng #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #honkai #honkai star rail

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joannasteez · 3 months

Text

stay, please

pairing: roman reigns x blackreader warning: ANGST.. smut . explicit descriptions! so minors please do not interact! word count: 10k ... now that we found love, what are we gonna do, with it? ...

all that time ago, when you'd first met him, your acknowledgement of roman was flimsy, a shell of nothing, but the simple words and pretty smiles made him run warm all the same. "my tribal chief", you'd say, airy and teasing, void of awe. he was big and strong, hubris making him this mountain of a man, but he was just that, nothing more than a man, and you'd seen enough men to know that they did not differ much. they groaned in time with their irritations, made their problems yours. lusted wild and unapologetically. they demanded everything, in their time, in their way, and gave what little that they wanted. and roman reigns, the tribal chief, was no different.

his eyes, suggestive and sharp, had taken to the fit of your ring gear easily. the shaping of the fabrics in places and in others, the lack thereof, pulling his interest till his fixations melted something warm and devious into your skin. he'd approach you wolf like, this stalking pace as if to circle prey. grinning amused. "i think you can do better than that for me. a little more enthusiasm".

and he was a tower then, still is now, strides long, full of leisure. your eyes peered from under the fan of your lashes, indulging the domineer of his presence with the coyness of good prey. you'd done well to make the game, the chase, or whatever this was for him, at least somewhat entertaining if not completely so.

you'd indulged. leaned into the mass of him, one small step forward after another till the air had no choice but to be shared between the both of you. a finger lifting to trace faint over the lettering of his shirt. and it'd taken everything not to fall then, not to give in to the pull of him, like some small wayward celestial object fighting against the orbit of a great star. the heady note of his smell, the strong comfort of his warmth, the height of him, the sure soft ways his eyes drifted over you, like he'd just known without complete expression of words or deeds that you were his.

your touch had turned more firm then, from one finger to your palm, slipping down till it played at his abs. and a grin had curled, amused now too, feeling the rushing in his blood. "i can be a whole lot better for you, you gotta earn that though".

but your words, so teasing and strong then, built firm and made off your tongue to last, were not as reliable as you'd thought they'd be, for the gravity of him was this overwhelming thing. and before the rush of it could settle, before the excitement of lust could wane, you found yourself with him at every corner or surface available. your legs wrapped in his, your lips wet and your tongue tangled, pushing and licking to taste him. your breaths caught forever, short and desperate as they fought to be full. he felt good and the heat of him melted the worry in your bones, until it didn't.

until the fun of it became dense, so much so that it was unbearable. his touch becoming more nailed into the skin of you, and his words fixing quiet, each more vulnerable than the ones before them. these heavy sinking whispers in the night, your bodies laying sated and damp, thighs aching and your blood rushing smooth just after release. arousal still sticky between your legs where his hands and mouth had been. from him came these words, forming to sound like something similar to forever. but by then it was too late, to stop, to take back, to slip away from under him.

and in the midst of fighting and failing to keep away from his body, and his quiet bed time passions, creatives of the smackdown brand championed the idea of a more feminine edge to the bloodline. someone who could rough and tough it, take a bump and bounce back for more. someone who could smile and charm and manipulate. someone who could, in the blink of an eye turn vicious if need be. a character that had draw, that could have the crowd eating from their palm. and though yes, roman was not starved of womanly support by way of the viewership, the faction was in sore need still of a lighter touch. something, or rather someone less naturally brutish, that did not wreak of ego or that larger than life self importance. and so, from a charismatic mid-carder, to the upper echelon, you rose and dominated as an entity connected to the infamous crew.

the full silver of your ring gear slowly altered to accommodate the overwhelming red and black, his colors, till there was a more even mix. and it all spoke without words, the black and red these leading lines, binding you to the one called the tribal chief.

a botched spot in the ring kept you away for some time. a few months of recovery, the perfect amount of time to go cold turkey from roman.

and though he called and texted and face timed, his constant travels and your inconsistencies left him hallow. an emptiness that soon would leave his ego to pulse with a bruising pain. he thought, in the midst of all those months of your recovery, that it was just the tingling in his fingers that he needed gone, these simple bouts of lust that could be easily remedied. but it was more than that it seemed. aches in his chest and this drawing pull in his skin. a helpless sort of longing.

he wrestled harder in those months, brutal, bordering relentless. when you wouldn't answer at all, or would only answer with few words, he pushed the fire of his anger, drove it through muscle and nerve, about the bones that built him till it was all he could feel.

why the fuck were you dodging him?

and all that fire, that white hot anger, attempting to purge his bones of you, flared and burst wild till it could no longer. flared to consume him till it proved shallow and here you were, under his eyes again. the silver-red-black of your ring gear calling his fingers to run against it, the tips where his nerves live itching to flex and curl into your skin. the curve in there where your hip dips, the muscles in him remembering well as the feelings there form back to life with excitement.

you look as good as you did pre-injury. maybe even a little better.

he makes himself known, the tone of him rich, stunning. something dark amidst the allure. you'd forgotten how well it arrested you.

"hows your arm?"

"bendable, so it's fine".

you do little to acknowledge him, afraid of what even a little eye contact can do to the strength of already weak resolve, but you move your newly healed arm about rather flimsily, showing him just enough so he can go about his business.

the carpet ruffles with his every step. closer and closer he gets. your heart knocking into your chest. "recovery must've been good, should've been", his breath warm and feathering along your neck. your fingers moving with a slight shake as you make to clean an already clean vanity. "had to have been", his fingers taking a small trace over your shoulders to hold you there, "cause i barely heard a thing from you". his thumbs sooth into the fabric, soft and remembering.

your breath hitches, the tip of his nose running small at the line of your neck. and none of those months of recovery mean anything in the slightest, save for the healing of your arm. your pulse quickens and beats harsh, same as it did before, skin taking to a slight tremble as the warmth of him surrounds you here. and your own fingers, working to burrow into the hard shape of the vanity, itch to touch him too, though something nags at you to fight against him. to war with the resolute way his touch fastens to your body.

"i didn't realize you were my keeper".

he sighs, slightly annoyed by the way your words fight to push against his own, but it doesn't stop the straying of his lips along your skin. skimming where they please till they pull in to leave a faint kiss at your pulse. "you've been ignoring me".

"apparently not enough".

he laughs, pulls your hips close till they flush against him, and laughs some more. his mouth parting just at the shell of your ear. "you're not convincing", his fingers flexing, a firm pulling as they make their way to play between your thighs at the fabric covering where they'd itched and feened to be. "not even a little bit".

and how you'd gotten here, falling so fast back into him to be consumed, back into the deft maneuver of his fingers and the heat of his mouth, was not at all lost on you. just as similar as it was not all that lost on him either, to feel your skin and the faint release of your breaths. fighting on his own for months to undo you from him, all for nothing. both affected in full by the other, thirsty and bordering impatient. and when he curls in past the stretchy material to slip against the wet of your slit, your hips move with a mind all their own, seeking a harsher friction.

heat braces your skin, head lulling forward. your hips shifting rigid, fighting to still and losing as they chase the smooth circling of his touch. "roman", breathy. urgent.

"no, no, no, no, no", his free hand firmly at your neck. an upward motion to reveal your eyes again. "you don't run from me, not when you want it this badly". his finger slipping further to sink in knuckle deep. the push in of them lax and patient. a pace he takes to feel you throb for him. with every second, the length of it steeping in the soaked mess of you.

you gather words, a sloppy attempt to fire back at him and it fails as you moan through it. "who said i wanted this or you".

"you know what it is babygirl", the speed of his touch urged on by his ego. his need to prove you wrong. you want him, you want him and he knows it. if not for words then he knows it with how eager your hips grind into his fingers. the slip of your pussy easy and hungry as it pulses. so much so that it resounds into the dead air of the dressing room, the tune of it forcing his hips to rut into you. "you don't want it, you tell me and i stop". he breathes hot and hectic into your skin, into your neck, kissing between takes of air. fingers thick and glistening under harsh fluorescent lights as they curve in to fuck you deep. "c'mon, tell me how much you don't need it, how much you don't need me", eyes brown and blistered. of course you needed him, of fucking course you do how could you not? when he needed you. "c'mon sweetheart, tell me so i can leave". a tear struck the apple of your cheek, a simple roll that told of everything. your skin twitched and your muscles ached, ready to feel the draw out of release, but the cage of your chest rattled, flaming with a need to say something long unspoken.

but to do it, to say it, would be worse than breaking a bone. worse than the raw opening of slit skin. to give in to him, would be the end of it all.

"fuck", a whimper breaking. wrecking the strength of your voice. your hips working to rut against the curl in of his fingers. your head lulls at an angle to sink into his chest. hands free from the vanity as you grab to hold onto him. "keep it there baby, please".

"yeah?", his neck craning to take your lips with his. tongue messy and suckling. and his fingers move with vigor, arm taut and muscle bound, veins striking against his skin. something similar to lightning. "and when you come what do you say?"

your breath catches and the sharp ways of your vision blur. the coil wound up in your core bursting wild at the seams as you rut and drip against the softening thrust of roman's fingers. your lips trembling as words flow hot and feverish. "th-thankyouthankyouthankyou".

even if the body was not made to do so, you could fly high, tumble, knock into, break at, and push over just about anything in ring. it's what made the rise from the mid-card so satisfying. it's what made the star studded rivalries so well anticipated and stunning. women of a particular caliber, head to head, their bodies and their wits and their wills stressed and strained until only one remained. at it's core, the work all by it's lonesome was easy. tiresome yes, but the pursuit of winning, that bright gold belt about the waist, was all a singleminded affair. easy. but the presence of him was, is, a storm. difficult to escape. reckless. ungovernable. and it seemed that the drifting of his eyes to find you and the remnants of his touch could not be undone. like a deep soldering under your skin, at the hard make of your bones.

he lingered, and beyond the shallow 'i don't want you's', the cut of your eyes and that cold far away disposition, something like need teemed, warm and fettered to your fingers, pressing slow into his skin, the fabric of his t-shirt, slipping into his hair. just before the quiet, when ecstasy was it's loudest, he could feel it running into him like nails, 'stay', etching red and raw into his flesh. and then a soothing kiss, more passionate, wordless but tender all the same, 'stay please'.

your inconsistencies were nearly earsplitting. i want him, i won't. i need him, no i don't. it made even the prestige of the women's world championship lackluster.

you'd won, your waist decorated in gold, but the true excitement of such a grand moment could not reach you beyond the loose way liquor paints your tongue. skin racing warm and control undone. the floor moving with this deep hard shudder, bass bleeding out. the air is thick from bodies, from the unintelligible roar of people. but what is clear, beyond the blur that comes for the eyes after chilly shots of espolon, is him. roman smiling in that faithful way that he does, wolf like, suggestive. clever and telling in the way that it so clearer reminds you of how small and good you can be as prey. something for him to take. to hold and guide and pull and pry at till he’s full. but that look of allure is not for you, no he'd done something fucked. he'd gone and found someone else to look at like that, some woman near the edge of the bar too oblivious and taken by the size of him to know that it was all a game.

a game you were losing at. your lips wet from the bits of your next shot that seemed to miss your tongue. you were too loose, too hot, too lethal. it was just barely easy to play the game when it was you, denying him and tugging along that thinly wound string that tethered itself from you to him, but when he made his moves to do the same, it wrecked you well.

tore you asunder. this deep splitting at the heart till you were left raw to the open air.

'fuck him, you're the women's world champion', the espolon steeped so well into you that it speaks. 'say it', persistent. you turn from him, your head lulling as your mouth greets another shot of that smooth tequila taste. 'sayitsayitsayit'

"fuck him".

but is it believable? the harsh bite and break of words as drunk lips form around them, bound to such a severity that only comes with the pain of pain.

the harsh bass nearly breaks your ears and makes your body tremble. you would like to leave, to tear your eyes away from them, from him, but you would also like to stay.

"you play right into his hand when you do that", a mouth near your ear persists above the noise. the well fitted dress of a button up forgotten for something sloppier and indicative of the loose, dancing, club energy. cody rhodes' face just a few ways away from beet red as he holds chilly water in one hand.

and there are crueler things in the world, things that grind against the spirit till it's worn and faint, but nothing pricks against the heart more in this moment than that woman’s fingers lingering against romans. the charm of her smile luring him in as she mouths to him unrecognizable things. "he wants to spite me, let him".

cody snorts, lazily throws his arm about you. "it wouldn't be anything you've never done". and you think maybe you hate the sense of his logic and his friendship. the filterless way he says things. so forthright, so readymade.

"fuck you, wheres the loyalty".

his cheeks pull high into the creasing corner of his baby blue eyes. fully amused. he probably thinks you're a damn joke, and maybe it's true, in the petulant ways you avoid and revert inward.

he hands you the cup of water and you sip it willingly, wishing maybe though that its something else.

"he'll play cat, you'll play mouse, he'll fuck you and hint at what you fear most, you'll run and we'll be right back to where we are now. so what the fuck's up with the preamble".

you shove the cup of water into his chest, picking up one of the many shot glasses that stand still on a tray. the taste of it not so dissimilar to water. he frowns, watching on as you glare into the emptiness of the shot glass. sometimes, in these short moments, when you crave things you aim to kill, he worries.

"didn't realize all my shit was so entertaining". you look angry, sound that way even, but the melodramatic coupling of words tell him you drift more towards a sullen pain than to anger.

"no, entertainment isn't this boring", he quips and you jab your elbow into his stomach. just enough to make him grunt before the break into a fit of little laughs.

but then you set the glass down and turn in to face him, to nuzzle closer into where your forehead meets his collarbone. eyes forming with hints of a glassiness that lend themselves to vulnerability.

roman's eyes take to looking about the club, instinctively, falling against the warmth of your embrace with cody. fire forms in his chest, aches with a burning.

your voice leaves off soft into cody's ear, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "it won't work. not in any way that matters".

"you don't know that"

"i've been played before. i'm not new to games".

cody rubs soothing into your shoulder, the compassion making you melt in that drunken way that leads to the welling of a tear.

"games aren't made to last, that's why they get played, and why people play them. if it's real then it's real".

"is this what it is now? you don't speak when you see me?"

dead air and his own words, tired in their anger. 'how long can i go, before i break?', but the break came quickly, the silence disrupting him. he rests but not really, stands there idle as if to feign the strength of a stable man but his nerves stir with ill-control. they flip and they twitch, crashing up against the inner parts of him. you won't speak, and your eyes don't meet. and when the job forces your hand, you grow cold in this subtle way. warm still but a biting chill just like at the cusp of spring. and your lips become these masters of brevity. and he wants to say it here —where his blood rushes irate, wrought by adrenaline— that he isn't too far from hating you. your skin, your touch, your voice, your face, the pull of your lips when you smile, all the things that make him lov-

"we work together, i talk to you all the time".

and even in all this, he couldn't not move closer to you. one foot in front the other till he was arms length. "promos and in-ring action aside, y'know what i mean".

you fight your own urges. to meet his eyes, to touch him, to fall beyond the bounds of those drunken whispers from nights passed where you cursed his name. "it should stay like that, professional. it's cleaner this way, safer".

he scoffs. something like a tower now the way he stands over you.

"yeah?", smirk mirthless. "and what, me fucking you out back behind an arena ain't clean? you bendin' over in a dressing room ain't safe enough anymore?" each word slightly louder than the last.

"keep you voice down", you hiss.

"or what?", his eyes sharp and narrowing. scrutiny burned into the brown of them. "everything you do is convenient for you". and his lips spread in that mirthless way again, bordering disgust. "you get scared so you pull away, you feel good again and come runnin' back. you ain't never fit me in for consideration, not once, unless it meant me sticking my dick in you".

and when blood is drawn, words like venom dripping into raw split skin, isn't it only appropriate to do the same? to do him in with the violence he so easily struck with first?

"once upon a time i didn't have to consider you", meeting him with words, cold and mocking. "i paid you fucking dust and when i did acknowledge you, you were grateful for it". vexed and thrilled, you watch the silent ways his rage manifests. the flaring in his nose and the shifting in his jaw. beneath where heaps of muscle lie, just there at his chest, falters this steady beating. a deep plunging of his ego. it makes you smile, nicks pain into your heart just the same. "maybe we should revisit that and stay there, and not be so damn emotional about it".

he recedes into something like pity. "whoever he was before me, he did a number on you".

it's this rupturing that hurts the most. the pain of it, a distant memory long remembered. this great big wound. raw and the skin so tattered still and messily undone. "you don't know me".

"exactly", roman urges. still above it all, wanting to know something. the slightest thing. anything.

you leave, slamming the dressing room door.

it was as if the spite of him, that which that'd already existed —a small, near idle thing, had reared it's head to tear through him again. seemingly more brutal than before. whether cruel or not, whether it worked or not, he'd made the effort, against his better judgement to see you bend. not to break no, but to see something other than the usual push and pull that became the mainstay of whatever this thing was between the two of you. that night at the club—his own go at drawing up some jealousy, an attempt at cracking your little shell of resistance, to see if you even cared, but still he didn't know. not for sure anyways. so here he was, needy, spiteful, and a short ways away from brutal as sweat broke from his brows and a frustrated groan from his lips. hips swinging in lethal, teeth gritting, and the core of him coiling tight.

he couldn't remember her name, no, but she was too similar to pass on. she ran just parallel enough to you that it could work. similar skin tone, the nonchalance, the coy silence of the eyes, sly slim touches that roughed into something harsh—near skin splitting. but when she spoke, the puzzle piece couldn't quite fit. her pitch too bright, not bitty enough. it didn't wreck through him the same, didn't rush in to him or thrum his blood but he couldn't complain about it, not when the chase of his release was so close. just palpable enough to satisfy.

roman took a mild shifting, hiking up a leg to leave the other bent, his foot nailing further into the hotel bed sheets, all to work his hips deeper.

her face ran into the sheets, mascara smudging dark into the clean white. "mhmm- fuck! i-", her hips fluid, rolling against the swing of roman's. words nearly undone, breaths close to finishing. "pleasepleaseplease".

she pulsed about him, hips rocking to chase the burning in her limbs, the harsh twist up of her core. and where he dug into her she fought to keep him there, soaked and clenching but it just barely came close. she hugged him for dear life, fucked on him till she couldn't take him to the hilt anymore. attempted to possess him even, with sultry moans and the allure of whispered begging. everything he liked, everything he wanted but it didn't quite fit. everything lacked by only half of a half step but it all mattered. and it was evident you made the difference.

the lazy trace of your lips, the delirium you took—even in rare bouts of aggression—the burn of your touch like a piercing in his skin. the dulling of your eyes, till they rolled overwhelmed and undone. the shivers in your skin and the submission of your body, the skin and bones of you left for him to form back together.

he missed you, and yes of course he wanted to fuck you, completely break you in that faithful way that he did in times past, where you'd rush in dainty, words like feathers, thankyouthankyouthankyou, but he also wanted to hold you. wanted to mold himself to you till he was unsure of where he ended and you began. he wanted breath stealing kisses that rolled lazy and thick. he wanted to still the shivers in your body, wanted to caress you through the burden of release and even after, he wanted to keep you there. safe in the strength of him.

and it was here, in these thoughts, where he found the feeling. the pulling in his gut strong and subduing, tugging away from the wet mess of her to release. thick ropes against her skin as he groaned.

"fuck......".

your name slipping through. unabashed and clear as day.

roman winces, feels the recoil of it in his flesh. this awkward reversion where his body fights not to cave in on itself out of embarrassment.

why the fuck would he do that?

but she's moving before he can do anything, cleaning herself till she's rid of him. and damn it, why can't he remember her name? his back flopping into the sheets, an arm thrown over his eyes. he's tired and ill feeling, somewhat ashamed.

the woman saunters in, some ways from disgust. such a beautiful man, so obviously successful, and seemingly hung up on a woman who cares less than a fuck about him. thats what she can gather anyways. her fingers helping her slip her clothes back on. she grows curious.

"who is she?"

roman looks to her, realizing just how much she doesn't look like you at all. beautiful but not you.

"what?"

her eyes roll. that small sliver of curiosity done away with as she shuffles to adjust her heels."if your'e gonna finish all over me, the least you can do is remember my name".

she makes for the bedroom door of the luxury suite, leaving roman to fall deeper into his own silence. her voice carries, sweet and mocking.

"your little nda is signed. thanks for making me come".

roman grunts in response. feeling the slight rattle of the slammed door.

from the chill of new york city winter weather, to the warmth of one of the city's many luxurious hotels, came a firm dulling of the nights mixture of cocktails and whatever other light liquor your dear friend cody rhodes had decided was good enough for you. and what a dear friend indeed, always so caring, so righteous and so fucking motherly. his every word soft and urbane — "slow down, take this water, no more of that drink"—and his every look one of knowing and pity, until his glassy blue eyes and lisp-y mouth became resolute, even when in their own drunkenness, going as far as to putting you in a car and shipping you back to where you were now, at the hotel. "you're not even having fun, go sleep", his lips pulling into a gentle pout. his arms a warm embrace till they were gone, and you were ducking sullenly into an SUV.

he was all you could think about.

...whoever he was before me, he did a number on you...

and with so little said, roman had done you in to a silent sort of suffering. this shoddily made shell of something —your heart— playing at nonchalance, completely destroyed. stripped now, naked and fearful of whatever is to follow. the possibility, whether with or without him, the unknown, left you stunned, ill even.

...should you call?... fingers itching to reach, to slip against his contact ...but would he answer?... or would he, and rightfully so, do you the quieted sort of violence you'd done to him, time and time again?... those brutal ways your lips refused to speak, and when they did their words like daggers. your eyes never meeting, and when they came upon him, they bore over him icy and displeasured. like he was a nuisance, or even worse, a stranger. and the desertion of your touch, once upon a time, when the drive of lust and adoration was new in him, seemed that it would never leave. yes, you'd understand, but fuck if it wouldn't hurt, wouldn't pierce the greater parts of you, where strength of the ego and desire lives.

but its only when the phone rings that all hesitancy of the moment breathes hard. knocks unceremoniously against free inhibitions till you're wishing for him to ignore you. maybe, right here, right now, making the effort is enough, maybe it's all you need to say ...i did it, i tried... and nothing else. your whispers rushed and a bit scared and waiting. "don't answer, don't answer don't answer".

the ringing stops. he answers.

your breathing is soft, but present, the only thing that sings amongst the silence of him. what is this? after the callousness, the hardy stones you'd thrown into the glass of his resolve in an attempt to break him.

he's tired but not really. done but not really. he sighs, fingers roughing through his beard. "yeah?"

you giggle, breathy. a bit unnerved. your words rolling off, slightly slurred still. "thought i'd get your voicemail", you wonder how he looks, if his heart threatens to beat beyond the cage of his chest the way it does yours. "didn't think you'd answer".

he's quiet. breathing. "why'd you call?"

"you sound nice". the little thats left of the tequila pouring over your tongue into words. even in his tiredness he sounded beautiful. rich and dark and alluring. "did i wake you?"

"no". but he can't help himself, in being curious, in caring. "you alright?"

"i'mfine, ijust...i-"

"you sound drunk".

"tipsy".

"how much did you have?", a question but more so a command. the authority threaded in his voice lulling you in. it makes you shiver with need. makes you want to touch him.

"mhmm idon'tknow rome". and he can hear your shifting over the sheets, as you shift over answers to give him, that would satisfy him. you wanted so badly, despite your fears, to satisfy him. "a shot, a drink or two".

"lightweight for real", he chuckles. "who were you with?"

"cody. he got my uber".

is it so bad?, when the hour is late?, to think of seeing you, even if the thought is little and fleeting and ways away from dangerous? "you here at the hotel?"

"damn", and you're laughing. giddy at the way he worries. reeling with sarcasm "you want me to share my location?"

"watch yourself".

"yes sir".

and here the air is hesitant, forming fragile and ill-informed of whats to come. it shapes about the both of you wearily and groans even in it's stillness of how ill-suited it is at holding the ambivalence of this... love, lust, longing or whatever it is twisting about the both of you. it yearns for something new, for something unweighted and free and sweet.

roman asks you again. curiosity breaking a heaviness into the weight of him. "why'd you call?"

your bed sheets pinch and ruffle between your fingers, taking on the burden of your anxieties. "i figured if i went out...i'd-i'd get a little courage yknow? a drink or two and then i could call you, could hear your voice".

"hear my voice huh?", his jaw clenching. tone one of full mocking and scrutiny. after everything, all that was said, something like venom off your tongue in a means to poison his resolve, and now you wanted to hear from him? "and all that big talk, all that mouth and bravado, paying me dust and keepin it how it used to be", smiling mirthless. "what happened to that? where'd that go?"

you shiver, cold despite the warmth of the room. "i don't know roman".

"you don't?"

"i don't wanna argue with you".

"what do you want then? tell me so i know".

"it doesn't matter", something like a grin running through your lips, sullen and wistful. formed only by the sweet safety of what if's and what could be's, because those were always easier. "you'd leave". a single tear slips against your cheek. "you'd get bored after a while and you'd leave".

...but he isn't him, whoever that other man was, or could be, the one that'd seemingly broken you...

he sighs. "you're afraid of somethin that ain't happen".

"yet", you add.

"it's not going to".

"you don't know that".

"you don't either". and of course the fight is natural, this insistent war where true desires of the heart are subdued to the will of something comfortable and simple, because love, even at its easiest, proved always to be tedious and demanding. "i don't make it a habit of getting played".

"i don't make it a habit of playin", sincerity filling him whole. "how i've felt... how i feel still, about you? it's always been real sweetheart".

another tear and then another, till your skin is warm and nerves flustered. your chest tightening as your mouth trembles. "don't fault me for being scared, please?"

"clean slate. we can start over".

"ok".

and that restless buzzing, the harsh rushing of the city — cars and trains and people— works easy to overcome the natural fall of silence. breaths passing, his and then yours, one after the other and then together, in waiting, eager but unsure.

the emptiness is unsettling. makes you restless. urges the drive in his muscles to move.

your hand splays against a pillow, fingers curling in soft, your voice even softer. "what side of the bed are you laying on?"

"left side".

you hum. imagining him. hair splayed, long and gentle. "i hate the left side".

"i know", he smiles, small like and imaginative. thinking of older memories, where your legs find themselves curling against his own.

"it's empty, my left side".

"yeah?"

"yeah".

possibility, this mighty rushing in his blood.

"whats your room number?"

there was nothing flimsy about this, the gentle pull of his lips, tongue slipping cautioned but ready all the same, his fingers and palms seemingly made to do and withstand the brute force of many things but taking the time instead to hold you dearly. to savor with his touch what his lips cannot. but when the well of patience in him fills to the brim, when it overflows and floods him unsparingly, his persistence has no choice but to do the same. and your knees threaten to buckle, threaten to kill your resolve, as he cradles your head with one hand and the other anchored firm at your jaw —thumb and pointer— his kiss growing wetter, tongue sharper. because the time away —where neither of you could do more than fight and throw stones and break and avert, gazes and words and touches and thoughts and feelings— felt like forever. and then came the standstill, the white flag. clear air and even clearer intentions, over a phone call of all things. with simple words of the heart.

roman figured if anything, he was making up for lost time. your palms taking to his beard, thumbing over his cheeks, mouth forming soft over his.

you felt good, he felt good, but not so much that it couldn't be true.

and here, where you feel the abandon of his control grow, you break from his mouth, trying and failing to grab for something on a nearby shelf. but he's faster, reaches to grab the outstretch of your arm, flying it over his shoulder. his breath warm and enticing, rushing a thrumming in your blood as he nips the skin there. teasing.

your nails take this tender clawing into his nape, dipping into silky hair. "i thought we were taking it easy?"

his words mix between the twist of his lips. "we are. your clothes are still on". kissing along your neck.

but he doesn't loom here, statuesque in his anger. doesn't suffer your resolve to threaten a breaking or diminishing to fold under the weight of a harsh truth. knowing whether or not if his words would split you raw for a vicious bout of bloodletting. no he doesn't loom here, but his standing is firm all the same. gentle minded and secure. immovable in the way that it refuses to let you go.

you wonder if jimmy and jey and solo and naomi can hear him in the pantry from where they are in the living room. hear his groaning, and the smack of his lips as he takes yours. hear his lust and his love and his longing.

you hum against him in bliss. "you make it very obvious that you want to eat me alive when you look at me like that in front of everybody".

"am i supposed to feel bad about that? because i don't".

"being lowkey goes a long way sometimes".

"yeah a little too long".

but that night had only been one of the first nights of this mending, this slow cautious maneuver of putting back together the broken pieces of whatever this thing was that had been brewing for sometime. and it isn't until you're sitting in a shared comfortable silence, sipping wine and tasting sweet deserts that the realization comes to you. that this —the sex and the passion and the strife— has only ever been a thing, something ill formed and without definite shape. uncategorized and hesitantly spoken of. it had all been rushed with hushed pleasures and secrecy, rendezvous and an inherent longing that would not, for fear of realer things, be spoken of.

but it was very clear now, as he dipped a spoon into tiramisu, that you needed him.

and the pace here is easy, as waiters and other patrons breeze by your table without rest, without wait, his eyes and his stillness forming well over the hold you have as you touch him idly. your palm at his knee, raising to take his hand in yours, fingers folding in, shy and feathered and bursting with a wordless affection.

from where you are, just a short lean in from his lips, his features are not so intimidating, not so all consuming in that daunting way he's perfected. his cheeks are freckled and round and the brown of his eyes are bright.

you kiss him, take that short lean in and meld your lips till he hums and thumbs your chin. because he isn't him if he doesn't touch you. doesn't hold fast to your warmth.

and even after you part, the intimacy laced in the air breathes slow and lingering. "thank you for being so patient with me, with everything". your fingers fiddle and caress over his. "i know i haven't made it easy for you".

"when it's something i want, i wait".

and wait he did, with a statues patience. but even the strength of statues fail, worn and weathered if left to stand against time and their own stillness. eventually they all crumble, some in such a poetic fashion that its destruction means more than its birth, and other's with a simple, unceremonious falling. but the undoing of roman's patience is fierce and alluring. and as you breathe short, in between the firm pull of his lips, water hot and raining against your skin, you feel the chipping away of that patience as well. and it isn't just the pouring in of the shower and the sweet warmth of soaps and candles, but the influence of him as well, melting underneath flesh and bone.

6:17 PM

the steam forms something amorous. thickens the anticipation and lulls your resolve into a surrendering. and the tight feeding of his fingers into your thigh doesn't help any, nailing sharp and greedy as they have your leg hooked about his waist, his tongue licking against yours. and here in the kiss his lust grows slow and exacting, in a means to savor. making you moan and forcing your hips to grind mindless. his body hard and wet and safe.

your fingers curl into the hair just at his nape, tugging to pull, to break his lips from yours, but he's fast and wanting, rushing in for another sweet assailment. groaning in time with his pleasures as his hips rut at your soft skin. you try again to break from him, to breathe even if the air suffocates you so, and he gives in. settles for fastening himself to you elsewhere, to supple skin, and to grinding his hard dick at you. his mouth roaming about your neck, nipping with his teeth and kissing gentle. a meager attempt to reigning himself in.

your touch wanders further into his soaked hair, mouth moving to trace his, to tease him. "we have a reservation for 9", you kiss him lightly. "i don't wanna be late".

he hums, rests his forehead to yours. taut fingers working your hips to a slow grind against his dick. working what nerves lay dormant in you to life.

"the restaurant is a 30 minute drive", his nose and mouth nestling into the plains of skin where your neck ends and your shoulder begins. drinking in the small breaking off of your moans. "plenty of time".

7:29 PM

and the minutes wandered away fast and teasing, forcing in an urgency as you fought hard to slip away from him and the heaviness of his desires. and it took much control, to part from his warmth and the heavy lust of his eyes. from the way his touch and his mouth maneuvered —with seductive method— and the heat of his cock laying at your skin, so terribly close to where you need him. but how odd the fear is here, after the pulling away of all that nasty pettiness and the settling of it, no longer scared of how much he would love you, or how well he could etch himself to the inside of you —with touches and deep words filled with passion— but now, weary of just how unbearable you would be. because it seemed now that he was stuck with you, and that if he would continue his affections with such an intensity, that you would have no choice but to return it. and even in this, your fears, your weariness of this love and lust and longing, were not so frightening at all. but exciting.

you're excited.

"tie or no tie?"

the bulk of his arm, where tattoos paint the skin, slip through a white button up. fingers deft as they take the time to do in each button.

"no tie".

your hands soothing over your skin with a warm smelling body butter. eyes trailing to his as he watches your hands work over your skin.

"and the jacket, yes? no?"

"yes to the jacket", but your answer barely registers, and how could it possibly do so clearly enough when the fabrics of your underwear form over your body the way that it does. everything about you soft and inviting to the touch as you approach him. your fingers undoing the top most buttons. the intricate designs of tattoos here at the curve of his pec peaking through. "and just leave this open a little". your palms smoothening away at the rest of his shirt, over his shoulders to adjust the already adjusted collar, fingers slipping against already buttoned buttons, and when the smallest wrinkle catches your eyes, you're already flattening it to straighten. and here he takes you in, arresting with silence and a never ending depth to his eyes that leaves you without words.

his mouth close enough, breaths are shared. and there is no other word to describe the scent of him other than divine.

you want to fall into him, as free as air and without hesitation.

his lips smile. "you're staring".

but it is justified, because shouldn't all beautiful things be looked upon with awe and a speechless sort of appreciation? shouldn't they be touched, the way you touch him, your palms possessing him to hold as you kiss him greedily and without wait. your tongue lashing through firm and without the mind to yield. moaning gentle into him and if not for his own strength he would fall to his knees. is this not how beautiful things should be treated? should they not be adored and reverenced? should he not pry at your skin the way that he does? dull nails sinking in to remember the forms they take as they go. your leg found slipping around his waist again as his fingers move swiftly to claw their way down till your panties push away helpless.

and he groans, lips parting only to find yours again, finding you warm and wet as his touch slips through the mess of your slit. and he wonders how long you've been like this, stewing in your own desires. his blood rushing hot and fast, feeling the heavy throb your body takes as he plays a teasing touch at your opening. something whiny and dainty tumbling off your tongue as you fight to reign in that wild burst of lust so loosely falling off your skin.

"roman", you warn. so small it nears a whisper.

"shhhh, relax", his finger dipping in to feel the heat of your pussy. a neediness to see you break bursting in the cage of his chest, his heart hammering at the sweet daze in your eyes. "just a little bit baby".

"we're gonna be late". you fight.

and you want to say how much you hate him, how much you hate the ease of his touch—such a terrible gentleness— and you hate how it makes you swoon, and throb harder, feeling the depth of his artful handlings. you fucking hate it, hate him, fuck, and your breath labors harsher than before, feeling the seam of his lips as they sit to hover above yours, and shit, his fingers stroking firmer than before, a slighter urgency in the pace that catches your breath and his eyes dim low but they hypnotize you, and no you don't, but, well yes you do hate him, but you don't, a moan stretching in sync from him and from you, and damnit you love him. love his touch and the proof of his lust, how naturally it is born from his love and his longings.

he can see the prickling in your eyes, the glassiness just before the burning brown of them. and you ruffle your face into his chest, into the balminess of his skin but he does not relent. and the sound your arousal makes as it coats his long fingers is lewd but it brushes over you warm and inviting. drives your waist to grind into his every stroke till release is sweet and so close.

the undoing is palpable, a licking flame against the skin. short tremors starting in your legs as you call to him. little whispers that beg, "please...please...please", hushed and slurred.

and just when it's there, it isn't, his fingers slipping out of you slow, wet still and gripping your ass to stop the mindless grinding your hips take.

"roman, no, what are you-", his lips kissing yours to stop the words and the worry. but he's kilt weeks, hell, months of such a lengthy build up, and your body rushes confused and unsatisfied. you pull from him, just enough to speak, feeling his palm caress into where he holds you. "what are you doing?"

"its almost eight", his body forsaking yours to step out of the bedroom. "need you to clean up and finish getting ready".

8:18

at your wrist

at the bend of your inner knees, your elbows

the skin of your neck just behind your ears

and just where your ankles roll inward.

his dress shoes click back into the bedroom to be met with an immediate assailment. but this violence is no violence at all, but rather a sweet, sultry thing. enticing. and he holds his wrist forward to check the time. 8:20. fuck the reservation, he thinks, stepping till he's behind you. eyes peering through the mirror, watching the delicate way you curl a thin brush over your eyelashes. a dark mascara that thickens and pulls the length and when you check the fruits of such minuscule labor, beautiful and satisfied, the crotch of his pants prove too thin, and uncomfortable. and as he dips his nose into your neck and molds his fingers to your hips, flushing you against him easy, you work into your nerves an air of dispassion. cleaning the dresser of miscellaneous things, fighting the urge to let him do whatever he wants with you.

and here, just behind your ear, the perfume proves to be intoxicating. his grip nailing in, curling to bring you impossibly closer. but his eyes never break. they hold, piercing hot and mischievous through the mirror.

in the silence you both suspend, weighing the importance of your plans.

he nestles into you. the fabric of your dress raising as his fingers pull.

and his voice makes you weak. thrums your blood.

"how important is this dress?".

"important enough", you hold against the balling his fist takes. "i paid money for it".

roman eases to his knees. undoes the neat knot he's made of his hair. he knows just how much you adore the feel of it. he pushes the fabric to rest above the curve of your hips. taps your right leg.

you lift it, angling it to rest your knee on the dresser. breathing labored. excited.

his own breath is warm at your skin, "and if we miss the reservation?" the sweet spice of your perfume meets him here too. his thumbs spreading you in a leisure manner.

anticipation consumes you. voice ragged. "it's not important".

he hums, delighted, his tongue lapping soft. testing and teasing. and your body leans forward, sensitive and longing, hips shifting away at such an intimate touch. but he holds firm, slipping wet through your slit again, continuously, his thumbs caressing where his grip tightens into your skin. and now that he's here, his patience to leave you undone forms new. bleeds a vigor about his every muscle and bone. your senses growing pliant above him, resolve melting as your hips shift to brush along the wet sweep of his tongue. and why he takes to such a leisure pace, you have no idea, but the pleasure simmering, fighting its way up the slope of your spine, grieves. wishing for something harsher. something less controlled.

the silence is remedied with a tender "please". teeth taking your lips to bite.

his mouth kissing, lingering, and you feel it spread. a smile. his mischief slipping into your skin before the inevitable pulling in, your clit caught, pulsing and needy as he sucks, thirsty and unstopping. and you feel arousal drip slow, glistening, his tongue catching it to savor. throat groaning as he shifts back forward to taste the fat of your clit. and though you stand above him, your hips shift ill-controlled and your voice leaves you soft and broken. belly coiling tight as his ministrations grow more singleminded by the second.

the nails of your fingers find their way to the roots of his hair, pulling him closer and running to soothe into his scalp. jaw dropped and gasping."feels so good baby".

and the slip of roman's tongue is lewd, caresses the swell of your clit as his mouth works your pussy. and as desperation mounts your bones, your other set of fingers tighten to hold against the dresser, arousal dripping its way past the onslaught of his mouth to run through his beard. the pricks of the hair there, rubbing your inner thighs to burn raw.

he grunts. "fuck", muffled and heated. dipping his tongue through till he's caressing the warmth of your walls. slow and reverential, savoring the tight clutch that holds him there.

white heat blankets your skin, fingers slipping to nestle through your slit, laying a dulcet touch to your clit. his tongue wide and gentle as it fucks you. and the sensation there is terribly sweet, solders hot and binding till your legs begin to tremble above him.

"roman", you call for him. tender and broken. he feels a blooming in his chest. heat and an eagerness. " 'm coming".

and the burden of that mounting coil shatters. pulses hard as you ride the sensation, fingers rubbing over the mess of your clit. thumb catching the soft nub to press against your pointer, trapping it to prolong that rich thrumming that flows about your skin. and roman takes to kissing you again, licking his tongue through the messiness of your release and kissing over your fingers.

8:50. the dinner reservation long forgotten.

but there are many other things forgotten besides white table cloth, wine glasses and intimately lit candles. the once so perfect button up he'd tucked into expensive slacks, now strewn about the floor, creased to hell next to the shine of abandoned shoes. and with all these things, left to be unremembered, is that mischievous sort of patience born from his teasing. where his touch was once salacious and mocking, unforgiving in the way it played well and denied pleasure better, is now just a filled shell of desperation. need running like flares of wild fire. and it shows here, as you sit atop the dresser, legs wrapped about him, the way roman aches and throbs, hot and demanding. cock thick and hard, reddened and leaking as he slips it through the stickiness of your slit.

his tongue growing sloppy, drunkly slipping over yours, pushing in the taste he'd savored so dearly. his skin teeming with a rushing, this great throbbing in his spine and the muscles in his core as he nestles the tip of his dick through the tight clutch of your heat. groaning in time with his pleasures as he sinks in, corralling your thighs forward to control the pacing, and deeper he goes till you're taking him to the hilt. the build of him seeming to crumble before your eyes, this mountain of a man trembling and undone by the warmth of you. delirium coursing fluid over bones as he stills to feel the softness and the pulsing. everything he'd missed, finally at his finger tips again.

and if not for the pain and the violence of it, you'd pull your nails through him. over taut skin and the great build of his muscles. not in a means to destroy, no, but in the hopes to consume him. a more permanent etching beneath his flesh where blood flows, just as he's done to you.

you hiss, breaths stuttered. mouth falling where the freckles at his cheeks live, balmy and heavy, attempting to find his mouth amongst the fall of his hair. to kiss him as he stretches you to take him. your fingers combing over the strays and flyaways, roughing your legs tighter to deepen the weight of him inside you.

you moan. something feathery and gentle. the fullness of him threatening to split your ears. and when his hips slip forward, fluid and strong, your fist knocks against the marble of the dresser. pain in your hand turning to pleasure else where.

"mhmgmh", his groan dark, feeling it rough up your body. and the carved marble of the dresser becomes more tainted by the second, the drag of him against the pulse and flutter of your heat so terribly charming. a soothing take to your pussy thats rigid enough to leave you breathless. and when your spine curls forward, head lulling to kiss the mirror, he leads with tongue to kiss your skin. "that's it right there huh?", but he needs no answer. pure evidence here, his dick rutting forward through the mess of you.

"yesss", stressed and drawn out.

the gentle pull of you, flexing wet and tight, a cureless addiction. his words slightly slurred, lips at your cheek, trailing to your neck, over your shoulder, plush and kiss swollen. "so soft babygirl". the draw in of him singleminded, throbbing and rutting. groaning as dazed eyes catch the feed in of his cock, a deep burying that shudders his skin. "love when you let me touch you like this", driving his fingers to form further up over your hips, dull nails curling at your back. "when you let me fuck you good", his hips pressing in as he stills, grinding slow, for you to feel him there, where he belongs. "how you need it".

you cry, a tear staining your cheek. the tremble of your lips forming over his as you kiss him. body molding to him, the go of his thrusts mindful as they work to fill you. and here, he slips in easy, steady still but with a gentler purpose. and his fingers, even in their dullness, don't run as brutal and the deftness of him proves with a tender rocking of his hips. arousal soaking him sweet as it sounds above the silence.

and the shock of everything takes hold. the ways you fought so terribly against him, to suffer in what you thought would be some less harsher fate than to live lovingly with him.

your voice stretches out delicately. into the safety of him. "don't leave me", quivering as you feel the building pressure in your body. "stay please".

"not going anywhere sweetheart", a hand at your cheek, thumb caressing there, "i'm right here", and the other pulling you impossibly closer by the thigh. lips over yours, sharing breaths. "you feel me? i'm right here", words whispered and groaning, the stroke of him deep and easy still.

and as he'd wanted since the beginning, your resolve crumbles as he holds you in his hands.

your heart heavy. fearful, excited. "....love you....", trembling as you come undone. "i love you".

he twitches, releasing thick and warm in you. pulling your lips in, passionate and relieved, tongue rolling to taste the words he'd waited to hear from forever ago, when everything about your attitude towards him was flimsy and hollow. and the bursting in his chest is undeniable, a smile slipping across his lips as the heat of the air sits easy about the both of you.

he kisses you again, lingering, with love and lust and longing.

"i love you too".

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weightgainworld · 4 months

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How to tease someone else, or at least try.

This is going to be a general guide for doms who are unsure what to say, subs who want to play with their dominant side, and me when I want a refresher on what works.

All of this is what I have tried and works for me. Teasing is an art form and has many different ways to approach it. No approach is right, but there are wrong ways.

1. Some do's and don'ts

-Remember that each person you tease is an individual first. Just because that one guy or girl liked it when you called her a dirty slut, doesn't mean everyone likes that.

- Don't force teasing if the other person doesn't want it. They aren't playing hard to get, and you are not sexy for being more aggressive.

- To find out what that person likes. Sometimes it takes just 10 seconds to see they enjoy pet names on their profile or in a post wherever you read it. It is even easier face-to-face since you can just ask. Even though it is awkward. It can't be weirder than saying something you read in an erotic novel and repeated in the heat of the moment.

- Don't beg for attention. There are exceptions where you can tease someone while still begging, look at tons of subs who beg for pleasure, but as a dom, you need to choose your words carefully. Aka doesn't beg for pictures, dms, etc., and tries to disguise it as shitty teasing.

2. What do you say?

I feel like this is a common question that people have when they are just starting or their brain goes blank under pressure. If you have no idea what the other person likes besides knowing they want to be degraded, try to focus on one or two things you noticed from a photo or their body in person. Take their ass for example, you could describe it as a big wobbly spanking zone, a pretty small butt that needs some red marks, or daddy's favorite body part. If you are a sub or switch, you can in most cases just imagine what you would want someone to say to you. Doesn't always work if the other person doesn't share the same kinks, but it is a starting point that you can work off of. Something is just seeing what other people say while they tease someone. Don't just copy what they say. If you don't have a dominant bone in your body and you do that, it will just be more funny than sexy. See how you can modify what they say to fit the person you are teasing or the situation. A great example is a good boy or a good girl. Both are okay on their own but can be elevated by just adding more passion to it. For example, "You are such a good fucking boy for me playing with yourself and drooling for pleasure."

3. How should you say it?

Unsure if this is helpful to address, but going to mention it anyway. In my opinion, you should say things that fall into the middle ground of sexy but expressive. I roll my eyes when I see someone say 3 or 4 words that are repeated by everyone and their mom. "Nasty slut", "cock whore", "you should be sucking my cock". There is a time and a place for more direct teasing like this though. Some people just want to hear that they are dirty girls while having their hair pulled. That's why seeing what someone likes beforehand can go a long way. However, you could also elevate what you are saying by being more descriptive. You can go from saying, "You are such a slut", to, "You can't help but act like a whore with your tits hanging out." Both ways will get the job done, but being more expressive can help you stand out or just sound sexier. No like I don't use the first example all the time. This is Aldo helpful to keep in mind when writing erotica since you can only say slut, bitch, or cunt so many times before they lose their impact.

4. You can tease without being degrading

This is something that even I forget since I am more of a fan of aggressive domination. However, teasing is more than just saying whatever rude thing you heard in a porno. You can be softer about it like saying, "Are you going to be a good girl and come hump yourself on daddy's hand?" At the end of the day, teasing should be used to push someone you are playing with down a rabbit hole of horny. It is not just so you can vent frustration about not getting that promotion at your job. Not everyone wants to be a slut and that's okay. You can still be a handsome boy who deserves butt rubs while getting pounded.

5. Mix fetishes in for more variety

Like I mentioned before, spamming the word slut every 5 minutes isn't going to impress anyone. Using that person's fetishes to tease them is a simple way to do that. Have a foot fetish? You could say, "Of course, you want to be a foot slave, just put your cock right there and let me help you out." Into bdsm? You can say, "Don't even bother trying to lie to me, you want me to tie you up like the rope bunny you are and rub my hands over your reddening body." I think I have made my point. Kinks are cool, use them to make you sound sexier.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Learn from other doms how to talk to sexy as well. I am just a random dude with too much time on my hands.

#teasing #bdsmkink #degredation kink #sub and dom

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glazedyam · 6 months

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Stressed Out — Irene

WC: 1.09k

Warnings: kinda mean Irene and 6th member!maknae!reader.

—Come on, you guys can do it! — The choreographer cheered on as you practiced the choreography for Russian Roulette.

Right now you were recording the dance practice for Russian Roulette, and the choreographer was making sure that everything was okay so the dance practice would be recorded without incident.

You were going to change to the center, as your part was coming up, but when you were about to take your position, you accidentally tripped over your own foot, falling down with a loud “THUD”.

The members quickly surrounded you as the choreographer stopped the music and came to check on you as well.

—Are you okay (Y/N)?! — Yerim asked.

—I’m okay, I’m okay. — You said quickly, so as to not worry your Unnies any further.

—You fell pretty hard, are you sure you’re okay? — That was Seulgi. You smiled, as your Unnie always seemed to favor you out of all the other members.

—Ah, Unnie, don’t worry, I’m truly okay! — You smiled wider.

Seulgi nodded and proceeded to crouch and give you a head pat, something she’d always done since you were trainees.

At that moment, when Seulgi and Wendy both helped you stand, you felt someone’s heated gaze on you.

You turned around and saw Irene staring at you with candid hatred in her eyes.

—I-Irene Unnie? — You asked, trying (and failing) to hide the tremble in your voice.

—Why do you always ruin everything? — She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.

—What? — You asked, feeling like you hadn’t heard her right.

She just rolled her eyes and walked away.

—What’s with Irene-Unnie? — You asked Wendy, but when you turned around, none of the members were there behind you, they were talking with the choreographer.

They hadn’t seen your interaction with Irene.

You decided to keep quiet about it, as you didn’t want any of your Unnies to get scolded just because your feelings were a little hurt, so of course you just sucked it up and got ready to continue the recording.

…

It was the day you were going to perform at Inkigayo. You were worried you were going to ruin the choreography again by falling, but Yerim reassured you nothing would ruin your performance, so, with great confidence, you were now killing it on stage.

Your movements were fluid, and your vocals and rap were amazingly stable, so it sufficed to say that you shone the brightest with the concept of Russian Roulette.

At the end of the performance, you were today’s ending fairy, and you smiled brightly at the camera, throwing in a wink and blowing a kiss.

Fans went crazy with that one, and some of them even barked. Weird, was what you all thought.

Anyways, you all went to your camerino and began having lunch, while you waited for your performance to be broadcasted, but while you were eating peacefully and listening to your members talking, you noticed that it was time.

—Look, look! — You almost squealed when you saw you guys were on the TV. —Ahh~, this brings me back to our debut days. — You couldn’t help but let your excitement get the better of you, so you began kicking your feet under the table.

—Stop that. — Irene said with a scowl on her face.

You immediately stopped, looking down at your hands folded over your thighs in embarrassment. You had made a fool out of yourself in front of Irene again.

—Oh my god, we look so good in those outfits! — Joy said, and you proceeded to admire the pleated skirts and red tops. You all looked good, but you couldn’t help but think that a special someone looked better than anyone else.

—Unnie, you look the best out of all of us in that outfit. — You smiled brightly at Irene. She just scoffed and looked away, but you couldn’t help but appreciate that her white face had suddenly become slightly rosy.

You gave her a small smile, and continued eating and listening to your Unnies while they chatted.

…

The night came and the members wanted to go out to celebrate your Russian Roulette win at Inkigayo, but you were too tired to even get out of your room, so you decided to sit this one out.

Surprisingly, Irene also decided to stay behind.

You didn’t bother to ask her why, as you knew she was in a bad mood and she would probably snap at you, so you just stayed in your room watching a tv show on your phone.

You were enjoying the drama until you heard a knock on your door.

—(Y/N)? Can I come in? — It was Irene. Her voice sounded strangely soft.

—Yes! — You said a little too enthusiastically.

She opened the door, revealing her small figure. She looked… so strangely beautiful under your room's dim lighting.

—(Y/N)… — She began, and you gulped. What had you done now? —I came here to apologize. — She continued.

You blinked twice. W-What? Irene? Apologize? Your prideful leader was finally relenting?

She hugged herself, giving attention to her small, lithe figure. Your eyes wandered over her body, unintentionally, of course, but who could resist her beauty?

—I’ve been really stressed lately, and I took it out on you… It was- wrong. — She sighed deeply.

—It’s okay, Unnie, I understand… —

Giving yourself some time to process what was happening, you didn’t notice when Irene had walked closer to you.

She was small, but something about her now made you forget that detail.

She got even closer and you could feel the heat emanating from her body. It was so… comforting. Familiar, like something you couldn’t remember.

—U-Unnie? — You asked.

She closed the distance between both of you. Her minty breath consumed you, as you both… kissed.

It was a passionate kiss, making you blush. You got so embarrassed by it, you unintentionally bit her lower lip, earning yourself a moan from Irene.

Everything sounded so… similar. Like something you had already experienced, but you just couldn’t put your mind to it right now.

You both separated, she was coughing from the lack of air.

You smiled, and laughed like an idiot.

—Wh-what? — Irene asked, her face red with embarrassment.

—You just kissed me. — You said, the smile still evident in your voice.

—I-I, I just- — Irene stuttered.

—Don’t worry, — you said, kissing her nose. — I like it. — You smiled.

She kissed you one more time, and this time, you didn’t bite her.

Let’s just say… kissing was not the only thing you did that night.

#red velvet irene #red velvet imagines #x reader #fem reader #bae joohyun #irene x reader

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spacehippieface · 11 months

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A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding now across the heather; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking stool tilted and bowled violently along the ground? That was the impression those instant flashes gave. But instead of a milking stool imagine it a great body of machinery on a tripod stand. [...]

Seen nearer, the Thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere insensate machine driving on its way. Machine it was, with a ringing metallic pace, and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange body. It picked its road as it went striding along, and the brazen hood that surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a head looking about. Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal like a gigantic fisherman’s basket, and puffs of green smoke squirted out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me.

Let's talk tripods! Every artist and fiilmmaker has different interpretations of the fighting machines. It's not hard to picture a towering three-legged alien death machine, of course, Wells gives us a good picture of what they look like, but I want to go over a few depictions of them and compare them to his written description, in no particular order, because I think it's interesting, and I think WOTW might actually be a special interest:

Wells drew this one himself. It's a stick figure, of course, but this was how he pictured them. I especially like the little guy going "oo-er!" at the sight of it, almost in polite terror.

The BBC version. To me, this one owes a bit more to Transformers design-wise, and moves like the Cloverfield monster, like the MUTO, like a lot of giant monsters we've seen in recent years, terrestrial or otherwise. But they are still menacing, and they actually make a clear "aloo!" noise when calling to each other. I've got to give them that, even though the BBC screwed up the Martians, the cylinder, they kept going on about Russia, the whole "you can't marry her, you're already married to your cousin" bit. It was a mess.

The Edward Gorey illustrations. O is for Ogilvy, burned like the flag. P's for the Parson, oh, what a drag. Sorry. This is basically a flying saucer with legs. Bit silly,but the tentacles are there, and the legs aren't the stiff kind Wells hated. Which brings us to...

Warwick Goble's illustrations from the original publication of WOTW in Pearson's Magazine. Wells famously hated these so much that when WOTW was published as a book, he wrote a segment into the story ragging on these stiff-legged water tower tripods. I think Goble took the milking stool description too literally, his tripods are always drawn tilted.

The 2005 Spielberg tripod. Great. Massive. Scary. Everything is there. The tentacles, the Heat Ray arm (two even), the suggestion of a head, even the basket. Say what you want about this movie with its excessive amount of Tom Cruise and young Dakota Fanning screaming, but the tripods are fantastic. Damn near perfect even. I think Wells would be very pleased.

The 1953 design. I am very fond of these, they're a great classic sci-fi ship, but they're more akin to the flying machines than the tripods. The filmmakers try to loophole their way out by talking about invisible electrostatic legs (which you can see when the machines initially appear) but I'm pretty sure they went this route because the film was getting more and more expensive and the budget wouldn't extend to stop-motion for the legs. Still, a wonderful creation, the goose neck/cobra head design for the Heat Ray is a good touch and my god, the hissing, ticking noises these things made. Love them.

The Jeff Wayne musical design. My favourite. My beloved. My nightmare fuel. Totally iconic. I'm sure when most people think WOTW, their first thought is the legendary album cover featuring one of these monsters melting the Thunder Child's valiant heart. Doesn't make them book-accurate though. The Heat Ray is built into the chassis, it's all one unit rather than a separate head on a body, the basket was given to the handling machines, and they are stiff-legged in stills. But they're scary in motion, and their howls still give me the jibblies. OH GOD, THOSE HOWLS. Opening Horsell Common And The Heat Ray on the Highlights album with that scream isn't fair!

Henrique Alvim-Corrêa's illustrations for the Belgian publication, and Wells' favourites. The effects of the Heat Ray are chilling, and they're definitely sinister when there's a lot of them just standing there or coldly blasting humans. But I'm just not sold on those googly eyes, they make them goofier. Although when these designs were used for the War of the Worlds 1913 indie game (which I still need to play) the eyes were just blank. Redemption!

#daily war of the worlds

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gubnation · 17 days

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Red Wine Supernova

Once again this is written on a whim in the middle of the night and inspired by one of my favourite songs and my favourite doctor.

Season 5 Reid without the leg injury.

2k word count.

It was the middle of a sweltering heatwave in Virginia, almost record temperatures for the entire week. Every one in the bullpen was sticky with sweat and completely over it.

You had even taken to completely drenching your long, dark sheet of hair in the bathroom sink for some type of relief. While it helped to keep the heat of your head for a while, the rest of your body was still sweating bullets. If you were wearing a bra, it would surely be completely soaked through.

You'd think the most coveted unit in the FBI would have better airconditioning but apparently not.

After giving up on fanning yourself with the abandoned case files strewn out on your desk, you wandered down to Penelope's office to see if she was having better luck in the heat.

Upon entering the room you realised the only thing hotter than the sun outside was the man sitting in front of you.

His overgrown caramel brown hair shook as he turned his head around to greet you.

"Hey you." Spencer smiled up at you front his perch next to Penelope's desk.

Penelope was currently in the middle of an in depth tangent about something but you couldn't focus on a word she said because of the cherry red lollipop swirling around Spencer's mouth.

You had never been so jealous of a piece of candy.

Despite the weather, you felt heat build between your thighs for another reason. The vulgar sounds that came from between his lips only added to your arousal.

"Hey, you okay over there." Spencer's voice showed a tinge of slight concern at my dazed state. Meanwhile I watched a massive, teasing grin appear on Penelope's face in the corner of my eye.

She knew I had it bad for the resident boy genius and went to great lengths to force me to tell him. Despite her meddling, I never could work up the courage to tell Spencer how I really feel.

I'd known since the very first time we met in the elevator, on my very first day heading up to level 6 from the computer crimes unit. I was a ball of nerves and was badly failing to hide my anxiety from the tall man to my left. Not realising he was my new team member and a literal genius, I blurted out just how very nervous I was to be starting in the BAU.

I will never forget the comforting smile and supportive words that put me at ease that morning. I was a pure stranger to him and he had treated me with such rare kindness that fully kickstarted my secret admiration for him.

Since that moment, along with Penelope of course, we became the best of friends. Unfortunately for me, thats all we ever ended up being.

"Anyway that's why I'm never going back there, it's so hard to find somewhere with decent karaoke songs these days." You slowly starting taking in what Penelope was ranting about and affectionately rolled your eyes in response. An undeniable truth about Miss Penelope Garcia was that she loved her karaoke.

"What, is it too much to ask for some Lana on the catalogue?" She had you there. Despite your amusement at her passionate tyrade against the local karaoke bar, you agreed with her exquisite taste in music.

You both pretty much loved the same artists and you tried to attend as many gigs together as possible. Well, as possible as it was in this job.

" What is Lana?." A soft smack to Spencer's silky head from Garcia swiftly followed.

"You deserved that pretty boy." You liked to test the waters with how much flirting you could pass off as a joke with him. The flush that hit his cheeks everytime you did was your favourite shade of red.

"Oh my god Reid, we have to go out tonight and educate you." That send Penelope bouncing down the hall to alert the others of her plans. Your still damp hair shook as you laughed at your friend.

"Educate?" You looked up to meet Spencer's confused expression. "I have three PhD's."

"Yeah and a lot to learn apparently." You learned forward as you rose from the chair next to him. Probably giving him a direct view down your slightly damp shirt.

You took his deep gulp and flustered look at your cue to exit. Nothing better than leaving things on a high note with your favourite doctor.

Later that night, after much convincing (and promises of free drinks) the whole gang had shuffled into a new karaoke spot that Penelope had been dying to try.

You were honestly suprised she hadn't been to them all yet. Even more surprised she hadn't been banned from any either. She had a tendency to get overzealous while performing, which may or may not include giving Morgan a lapdance to National Anthem.

Before you had all rushed the elevators to head home and change before the big night ahead, Penelope had given specific instructions for you all to come "hot to go."

Everyone had hit really hit the mark, including yourself. It had been a while since you had really let loose and you weren't holding back.

Your third glass of red wine matched the tight fitted dress that clung to your body in all the right places. Chunky black heels elongated your smooth, freshly shaven legs and your hair was thrown back into wild, unkempt curls.

You ignored the eyes that lingered on your body as you grabbed another round for the table, desperately scanning the room for your guest of honour. It wasn't like Spencer to be late, so you had a sinking feeling that he might not be coming at all.

Before you could pout for too long, in walked Dr Spencer Reid, looking drop dead gorgeous for an entirely new reason.

His previously long locks has been cropped into a shorter, messier cut. Althought you loved his old hair, his new style stirred something deep inside.

You barely noticed the bartender place the stacked tray of drinks Infront of you as your eyes followed Spencer across the room. Luckily, he didn't notice your staring as he sat down with the rest of the group.

You quickly thanked the bartender and headed back over to the table, ready to get a better look at the eye candy waiting for you.

As you approached, you heard the playful banter that was directed at Spencer's new look.

"What did you join a boyband?" Even the ever serious Hotch was chiming in to tease the blushing doctor.

"Penelope did say come hot to go didn't she?" You playfully leaned foward and ruffled Spencer's hair, careful to not let yourself indulge too much. "Spencer was just following orders."

Okay maybe you were leaning way too close to him while you said it but you could only blame the wine.

" You like it?" The sincerity in Spencer's question gave you butterflies. He genuinely wanted to know what you thought.

"I love it Spence." You slightly slurred the compliment as you had just polished off a fourth glass but you meant every word. "You can pull off any look, I swear you just get prettier each day."

You bravely placed a delicate hand over his under the table that only he knew about. Despite being slightly tipsy, you commited this feeling to your memory because you knew it wouldn't last.

Before you could say anything more, Morgan and Rossi were dragging him up to the stage to perform a cheesy Bon Jovi song that Spencer definitely didn't know the words too.

Despite usually being the sober one, you noticed him chugging the beer he had been nursing to ease into the embarassment.

Your whole team cheered and clapped as they bowed to their adoring fans, you yelled extra loud for your new favourite boyband as they retreated back to the booth.

"Wow Spence, you're a natural up there." You jokingly teased as he squished in next to you, thighs slightly touching. He replied by stealing the rest of your drink and downing the rest of it.

A tempting red stain lingered on his boyish smile shining back at you, proud of what he had done. It took everything you had not to lean in for a taste.

You wish it was always like this. Spencer playfully teasing you and looking at you like you hung the moon. You knew he was a light weight but your drunken mind pondered whether there was something else there. Whether he felt anything back.

You made the executive decision to let him know exactly how much you wanted him.

"Pen, we're up next." You locked eyes with your go to duet partner as she registered the devilish look you had.

A couple minutes and one more glass for good luck later, you were making your way to the stage.

The opening beat to one of your favourite songs started and you danced around as Garcia started the first verses. You felt the wine rush to your head and let yourself go to the song.

You acted as a very enthusiastic backup singer as Garcia ended the first chorus and you started singing. You made sure to look directly over at Spencer to make sure he heard every word.

"Long hair, no bra." You jokingly palmed your chest as a joke while singing "that's my type."

"You just told me, want me to fuck you."

You made sure to hold eye contact for this next line, staring intently into Spencer's blown out pupils.

"Baby, I will 'cause I really want to."

You twirled on the spot, breaking your intense connection with Spencer to scream along to the chorus with Penelope.

Your lips turned up into a smirk as you anticipated your next part. You returned your gaze back to it's rightful place.

"Well, back at my house, I got a California king. Okay, maybe it's a twin bed, and some roommates."

"Don't worry we're cool!" Penelope was taking her supporting role very seriously and you blew her a kiss for it.

You then turned and made a show of pointing a nail at beet red man in front of you.

"I heard you like magic

I got a wand and a rabbit

So baby, let's get freaky, get kinky

Let's make this bed get squeaky"

You let Penelope take the rest of song song as you screwed your eyes shut and swayed your hips to the beat. You were too turned on to feel embarrassed about your not so subtle confession.

You finally looked up to see that your favourite face was still looking back at yours.

A bright smile lit your face as your rushed off the stage to ask him what he thought. You made sure to get as close as possible this time, not caring about the watchful eyes around you both.

"So Spence, what did you think?" You tried to continue your seduction but you couldn't focus as he assessed you with his eyes.

"I think." A wide smirk appeared as he reached behind you. "you have something behind your ear."

A torn piece of paper appeared between his fingers. You could see the start of a few numbers before the paper folded in.

" I already have your number Casanova, we work together remember?" You teased.

" It's not my number." You slowly unfolded the rest of the message, eyes like saucers as you realised what it said.

"It's my address, and I do actually have a California King."

#spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #red wine supernova #chappell roan

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zoeykallus · 9 months

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Hi! Im a long time fan! I have a pretty spicy HC request if you are interested. I like to imagine that the Bad Batch are all very well endowed 😉How would each of them handle this great responsibility and power? What naughty things would they whisper in your ear as they try to fit inside you for the first time? Could you also include Gregor? 😊 ok I’m going to go hide now thanks!

Aloha!

Hmm, interesting thought, let me see...

The Bad Batch/Gregor x Fem!Reader HCs - Well Endowed

Warnings: Smut Mentioned/Dirty Talk/PiV/ BD-Energy/Fluff/Comfort/Strongly Suggestive/18+

______________

Hunter

He is passionate, sensual. But he is also very sensitive, considerate and adapts. Hunter knows how aroused and excited you are, but he also senses the underlying fear that's smoldering there inside you. "There's nothing to be afraid of". He is naked next to you, in all his glory. Beneath his tanned skin, hard muscles, but his touch is gentle, purposeful, tender. Your eyes fall to his crotch and you swallow. "Are you okay?" he inquires cautiously, looking at you. "Sure," you say evasively. "Are you sure?" "Of course." Hunter is pretty well hung, his cock long, thick. Your fingers gently feel for it, feeling the heat radiating from it, eliciting a soft, sigh. When he finally lies over you, his hard length pressed against your body, your heart beats up to your throat. He kisses your shoulders, your neck, your face and whispers soft words to you. "My love, my beautiful, you don't have to worry, I'll be gentle, I promise". And Hunter keeps his word. As he brings his tip to your gate, you automatically tense up, but he patiently pauses, kissing and caressing your tension away. Finally, very slowly, he penetrates you, pausing after every inch, kissing you, praising you. "Look at you, so beautiful, you're doing great, darling, taking me so well".

Hunter is in no hurry. Spending this time with you, exchanging these intimacies, is a privilege that he fully enjoys and treats with respect. He would never intentionally hurt you, and he does everything he can to make you feel comfortable and let go. The fear will quickly evaporate, and you can be sure that Hunter will give you a lot of pleasure.

Echo

You kiss each other. Heat has spread between you and you have undressed each other. Now you lie there naked, Echo gently kissing every bit of bare skin he can reach. You're like putty under his lips. As exciting and stimulating as the whole thing is for him, he is still very attentive. He doesn't miss your glance at his hard length, which admittedly, is far larger than you expected. He sits up, takes your hand and gently pulls you onto his lap. "Come here sweetie" He looks up into your face. You see the dilated pupils, you know what he wants, and you want it too. But you're unsure, his size has unsettled you. "I know what you're thinking. I've seen the look on your face," he says softly. Again your gaze travels down, between you, there stands his cock erect, thick and long. Echo gently places a finger under your chin and lifts it. "That's why I pulled you onto my lap. I think you should have full control the first time. You decide how deep and how fast we go. Agreed?"

You nod, the idea makes sense. You lift your pelvis, and he guides his tip to your wet opening. Very slowly, you lower yourself onto it. You immediately feel the stretch, it's overwhelming. Your thighs tremble. Echo moans softly, he has to hold on to himself because even for him the feeling is intense. He nevertheless gently kisses your sternum, your collarbone, your neck, your chin and whispers, "You don't have to rush, take your time". Bit by bit, you sink further down, taking him in until he fills you completely. The feeling is so intense, so overwhelming, not just physically. Echo breathes heavily beneath you. "Good girl, you're doing wonderfully," he says breathlessly. With Echo, you never have to worry or feel insecure. Be open with him, don't pretend, and the two of you will have a wonderful time.

Wrecker

He is sweet, playful and gigantic. Of course, Wrecker knows that his physical build is a challenge for you, he behaves accordingly. The foreplay is long, and he spoils you very much, he sucked on your pearl until your thighs trembled around his ears. With two of his thick fingers, he has fingered you very carefully and stretched a little in gentle scissor movements. You are more than wet, but Wrecker also has lube ready just in case. Several times he offers you that you do not have to do that, that there are other wonderful ways to satisfy each other. But you insist, today is the day, you don't want to put it off any longer. "You'll be gentle, won't you?" you ask, a little uncertainly, nonetheless. He puts his hand on his heart and says, "Of course, beauty." Wrecker is really gentle, he is much more skilled than it might seem at first glance when you look at him. Besides, he is in no hurry, every tenderness he exchanges with you is a feast for him.

As your bodies unite, his thick cock nudges your gate, your whole body tingles. His slow advance is accompanied by gentle words and kisses. Wrecker takes his time. He communicates with you, seeks eye contact, wants to be sure that he does not hurt you. You are always in good, caring, big hands with him.

Tech

It took forever for you to get close at all. Tech has been rather reserved and reserved about being physical before you got close. He sometimes has a reserved shyness about him that others might find exhausting or annoying, but not you. You find him incredibly sweet, and you like that he's not one of those who has to rush everything. In the meantime, he has thawed out. He loves to cuddle, gentle kisses, little caresses. He is a spider monkey, some part of his body is always wrapped around you when he is near you and gets the chance. One of your cuddle moments has now led to a hot make out session and you feel that heat has risen not only in you. Tech is not wearing his armor during your hours of cuddling, and there is an unmistakable bulge in his pants as your tongue slides over his lower lip. He's pressed up against you, his kisses a little more fiery than before, his fingers suddenly everywhere, even under your clothes. Before you know it, you're both naked. You pause and look at each other.

"That was quick... and surprising," Tech says quietly, glancing down at the pile of clothes you've carelessly tossed aside, "But that doesn't mean we have to have intercourse, I don't want you to feel obligated for any reason." You smile shyly and say somewhat breathlessly with your heart pounding, "I very much want to merge with you, but I just saw how well-endowed you are and.... I'm not sure how that's going to fit in." Tech blinks, then his cheeks flush, and he says softly in a matter-of-fact way, "A woman's vagina is made to stretch and adapt to accommodate both sexual partners for fertilization and to bear children naturally. I'm pretty sure... um, that I fit in there." Your ears are getting hot. "I know that Tech... it's just, I'm a little afraid it's going to hurt" "Oh," he says softly, "But we can prevent that." You smile and say, "Knowing you, I'm sure you already have some ideas."

Of course, he does. Apart from appropriate preparatory foreplay, lubricant and gentle words, he also got toys, on the one hand just in case and on the other out of curiosity. Anyone who gets involved with Tech should bring a certain openness and willingness to experiment. You both have a long but wonderful and interesting night ahead of you. He may often be very matter of fact, but he has a very passionate and sensual side to him that is reserved only for you as his partner.

Crosshair

He's so wild, so hot. Until now, you never had the time to really have sex. But his kisses and touches are always like fire. He knows exactly how to touch you, over which parts of your body his long fingers have to glide, so that you want to tear off your panties and mount him. However, this is something that always slows you down and makes you glad that it hasn't come to that yet and that you were either directly disturbed or interrupted. Every time you feel his hard length through your clothes, it's a turn on, but once you felt over the fabric for it. To put it a bit exaggerated, you had to feel several times to be sure that you really touched his cock and not his leg. But now you have all the time in the world and Crosshair is very eager to get under your clothes. He is hungry, has been waiting for a while to be undisturbed with you. He makes you incredibly hot, his touches are perfect, but the more covers fall, the more nervous you get.

Finally, you lie there naked and his pelvis pushes between your thighs, his massive cock rubbing over your pussy. He pauses, though, when he sees the look on your face. "What's going on?" he asks somewhat breathlessly, his thoughts in a fog of horniness through which he tries to understand what's going on. You don't know how to say it, so you say it freely, you know Crosshair likes it better when you say what you want or think directly anyway. "I'm a little scared. You're so big down there." He raises his brows, gathers his thoughts, but then smiles. "Kitten, you are way too cute" he says gentle, "Don't worry, we'll take it slow. Bit by bit. I'll be tender, I promise." He keeps his word, Crosshair always does. He penetrates you very slowly, accompanied by soft words of praise and kisses. "My good girl, you are doing great". More kisses, a little moan, "Damn you're tight, Kitten". Sweat is on his forehead, but he holds back. It takes half an eternity before he's completely absorbed in you. "See, Kitten, it's working. You did great, girl" He bites your neck very gently and starts to move inside you very slowly. Close to your skin, he says, "Let's see what heights we can take you to".

Gregor

He is a cuddler. As soon as you have a moment to yourselves, he pulls you into his arms, presses you against him, spreads kisses on every bit of skin he can reach. Very tenderly, almost languidly, his lips wander. His hands are strong but careful. However, he has never tried to push you into anything or to undress you completely, even though you have often felt his hard length through your clothes, Gregor has never really tried to make love to you. You don't know if he's doing this out of consideration and wants you to signal your willingness first, or if something is wrong. So you talk to him about it. He holds you pressed against him, between you under the fabric of his pants his cock is hard again. Gregor blinks and looks at you. "Why? What should be wrong?" You shrug your shoulders uncertainly, whereupon he smiles at you. "Do you want us to?" You bite your bottom lip, barely able to ignore the dampness in your panties. You have a huge crush on him, excited, pulse racing. Being near him, his touches, are like a rush. Of course, you want to have sex with him, and you tell him so.

Gregor takes his time undressing you, every piece of skin he exposes gets kissed and caressed. When your eyes fall on his exposed length, you are startled for a moment. You have felt through the fabric that he is big, but to see it is different again. Gregor, who has seen your gaze, says softly, "You trust me, don't you?" "Of course" He chuckles his own little laugh and says, "Then my love, let yourself go, don't worry and leave everything else to me, I promise you won't feel anything but pleasure". He kisses his way to your clitoris, working your pearl with tongue and lips, the swollen little bundle of nerves is twitching under his skillful tongue. His touch makes you twitch and tremble with tense arousal. To feel him so intimately is a whole new rush in itself. The moment he penetrates you, you've already had an orgasm, are wetter than wet and completely relaxed. Of course, you feel it, even how big it is, but Gregor proceeds slowly and tenderly and instead of nervousness, you take it in with deep affection and pleasant anticipation. When he is completely sunk into you, he says a little breathlessly, "You see, my beautiful girl, you can trust me completely".

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

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