#red mic is the only good one

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Puncture - LN

Sidenote: I think I just write about crashes when I'm sad bc...they're really sad irl and it's easy to write about something that is already a sad event. HOWEVER, following this up, I do have another Lando fic which is kind of more endearingly sad and sweet.

Summary: A midrace red flag is always cause for concern. But when Lando finds out who's behind the red flag and they won't show footage because they don't know she's ok, he won't get back in the car till he gets answers

Themes/warning: Race crash, injuries from crash (think Alonso Australia 2016-ish)

Aston Martin driver!reader x Lando

Some might frown upon drivers dating, but Lando and y/n's relationship spans longer than their time in F1 and neither have any intention of ending the relationship because of their differing teams.

But when they are divided by their teams and different stuff they need to do as part of being drivers. The two are adorably inseparable and while they both have their haters, they also have people who are just obsessed with them.

"Baby...wakey wakey." Lando whispers hovering over his girlfriend who groans immediately shoving her head under the pillow much to Lando's amusement.

If there's one thing y/n hates. It's being woken up. He's really not sure how she's going to handle Vegas. Especially if it's a repeat of last year where the whole weekend is a bit of a mess. Though Australia is still not a very fun time zone jump.

"Come on." Lando laughs then taking another method as he drops his weight down on y/n earning a grunt from the young woman. Though he's quickly repaid with a pillow being hit into his face which only makes him laugh harder.

"Get off of me, you lump." Y/n groans making him hum for a moment.

"Are you going to get up?"

"Yes! Yes. I'm getting up...Most annoying alarm clock ever." Y/n mumbles jokingly as he finally gets up from on top of her.

"Race day baby. Got to be on your game." Lando grins earning a hum and grumble. "How about a quick shower together and then...we get moving?"

"You should've offered that before you dropped your full weight on me." Y/n smiles then linking her hand with Lando's to pull him into the bathroom.

-

"Hey, there's our favourite couple. How are you guys feeling?" Laura asks, catching the two after the drivers parade.

"Lando asked me to crash into Max. So mean. I'd never crash into my future husband like that." Y/n grins sticking out her tongue when Lando raises both hands, one giving her the middle finger while the other blocks the gesture from the camera. "Don't be jealous, baby."

Lando doesn't even hesitate to bail on the interview, dragging y/n with him but the very much cheeky grin on his face speaks loudly of the fact he's not actually mad.

"Bye!" Y/n laughs handing the mic to an assistant.

The two actually part with a kiss that is of course captured by more than one camera.

Y/n walks further down the pit lane to the Aston Martin garage while Lando heads into the McLaren.

They stand with Yuki between them for the anthem, but it doesn't stop Lando reaching around Yuki as soon as he can to get his ritual "good luck" kiss from her before the race.

"I'll see you on the podium." Lando smiles earning a grin.

He's starting P4 while she's P7.

"Alright, super star. Let's go." Her trainer, James smiles as y/n moves to get her balaclava and helmet on before climbing in the car.

"Hope you fried his head with that kiss." The mechanic jokes as they strap her in.

"I try, but he's a hard man to knock the focus of." Y/n laughs as they plug her in and make sure her drink is connected properly. "Don't worry, my focus is harder to shake."

"What we like to hear." He chuckles patting her helmet before they place her steering wheel in.

Y/n radio checks and before she knows it she's on her own. Those few beats before the formation lap then they're off, not racing yet though strategy is already at play. They love playing the game of going slow to force Max to wait as long as they can force him to out on the grid while the rest line up.

By the time they've all lined up, Max has been there for nearly a minutes but they're there and watching for the red lights to light up one by one and then...they go out and they're off.

By some miracle everyone makes it through the first lap, and keep going through the race.

The field get some spread and y/n finds herself in a battle with Pierre for P5.

"Patience." Her race enginee, Vinnie states into her ear, sensing her aggravation from the fact she's stuck behind the French driver. "You'll get him, just be patient."

Irritation prickles her skin and as she passes over the line again, she decides she's had enough. Trying for a move in turn 3, a move that goes horribly wrong when she dives down the side and Pierre tries to defend too late.

"Y/n-"

Vinnie's voice is cut off when she finds herself airborne, flying up as her front wheel catches over Pierre's rear on the corner, sending her in the air, the car flipping with the nose digging into he gravel somehow not slowing her like it should before it continues to flipping and spinning.

Y/n wants to speak when the car stops but a burning sharpness has spread through her chest.

"Y/n? Y/n, are you ok?" Vinnie questions but her gasping for breath and the shakiness of her hand from her body fighting the pain. "Y/n, please confirm you're ok."

She manages to press the button not even gasping for air because she can't find a way to get more air in her.

"N-" Y/n tries taking a shallow breath against the instinct to gather as much air as possible. "No."

"Helps on the way. They're coming, just don't move. Don't try and get out right now. The car is safe there's no fire."

"Hurts." Y/n wheezes feeling the pain getting worse and the world starting to feel dark.

"Just stay with me. They're there, they're going to get you out. Ok? Stay awake and try to just breath a little."

Meanwhile the red flag has been called for.

"Is everyone ok?" Lando asks as he slows to his delta.

"Y/n and Pierre off in turn 3. It was a big one. I'll tell you more when you're back."

"Is she ok?" Lando questions much more aggressively. "Will, is she ok?"

"I'll get back to you. It's unclear."

Lando curses hitting the steering wheel as he it comes into the pit lane and he's not even stopped the car before he's undone his seatbelt and as soon as it's to a halt the mechanics haven't reached him before he's climbing out and jogging to the garage to see Will.

"What's happened?" Lando questions making Will and Jose look at each other.

"They won't replay, the crash cut her camera. We don't have radio access...But they're not sharing that she confirmed she's ok on radio." Will explains earning a look from the driver. "We think she's ok, they're getting her out the car from what we know."

"Fuck sake." Lando grumbles marching off heading towards the Aston Martin pit wall where Vinnie looks stressed. "What is going on?"

Vinnie looks at the driver with an expression that suggests he doesn't have time for him right now but he's also not going to deny him the little informations he does have.

"Y/n was responsive but she lost consciousness before the medical delegate got her out the car. She wasn't breathing properly on the radio. I don't know what else is happening it's down the the medical team. Go back to McLaren, please." Vinnie stresses making it clear he's not got anything else that will settle Lando.

"I want to know as soon as there's an update." Lando declares knowing he's not being fair, they have to prioritise taking care of y/n and making sure whatever they need to do for her benefit is happening.

He moves back to the garage just as the helicopter flies over the top of them heading in the direction of turn 3.

Suddenly a ton of bricks hits him as he realises what Vinnie said.

Unconscious and not breathing properly while she was conscious. All before they could even get her out the car.

Lando bumps into a mechanic stumbling a little before Jon appears catching him.

"What's happened? What's going on?"

"They don't know she...she wasn't breathing properly and she passed out before they got her out the car." Lando states as Jon helps to guide him over to sit down. "And they've got the helicopter landing on track."

"It'll be alright mate. She'll be ok."

"I'm not getting back in that car until I know she is."

Jon looks at Lando for a few beats before sighing.

The red flag lasts for nearly half an hour and Lando paces continuing to bother and question Will as much as possible. But eventually Vinnie appears looking at him.

"Y/n is in hospital...she broke her ribs and they punctured her lungs from the impact. Maybe one lung, it's hard to say. But she's alive...Now can you get in the damn car so I can stop getting messages asking if she's ok and whether they can shut you up and get you in the car?" Vinnie questions making Lando deflate a little. "Look, I can't tell you information I don't have and trust me I wish I have more."

It wasn't exactly Vinnie's favourite thing that he had to be on the radio hearing her say no she wasn't ok and that it hurt before she went silent. But that's not something he needs to inform Lando of.

"Get a podium for her to have something good to come back to." Vinnie states patting his shoulder. "I have to go."

Lando, Jon and Will all watch Vinnie take off into the Aston Martin garage before Jon looks at her.

"You ready to get back in the car? Because we've been given a time."

"Yeah...Ok."

-

With there still being little knowledge of y/n's condition. There isn't much celebrations on the podium, which Lando got P3 behind the Ferraris. Then he got off the podium and went to media almost eager to suddenly distract himself from possibly getting news about her.

"You don't have to debrief." Andrea states as Lando sits down.

"We always debrief." Lando shrugs making people around the room exchange expressions but they don't comment.

Although it doesn't last long when Lando's phone goes and y/n's name is on the screen making him bolt without a word.

"Y/n?" Lando chokes out answering the call.

"She's fine, she's awake but she's in the ICU. She wants to talk, but she can't get many words out. So just listen to her ok." James states making Lando hum, struggling to properly respond in fear of having a voice break. He hears the phone shifting around before James speaks up. "Ok, he's listening."

"Hi, baby." Y/n whispers then letting out some heavy breaths as if she's struggling to get air in. "I'm ok. I'm so proud of you."

"I'm coming to see you." Lando states making her look at him for a moment. "I'm coming to see you now."

"I-James?" Y/n mumbles making her trainer pick up the phone.

"Hey mate, she's pretty heavily drugged for the pain. What are you asking?" James questions making Lando withhold the need to grumble since he should be the one there with her.

"I want to come see her."

"Oh-Oh right ok. Yeah, so she's only allowed one visitor at the time, but if you let me know when you're here, I'll head out. Probably be best to grab some stuff from the hotel room for her but I don't want to leave her on her own to do it." James explains making him mumble a thanks.

-

By the the time Lando gets through the hallways and to y/n's room, doctors are checking in on her and James meets him outside the room.

"Hey, mate. Just so you don't have to quiz the doctors and nurses. Or y/n. Her right lung collapsed, left lung is bruised, they think it was the initial impact when the car flipped. Spinal fracture...They haven't exactly needed to say, but it's going to be a long and slow recovery. She can get out of here in a couple of days hopefully. But she's out for probably the reason." James sighs making Lando look at him to a look that makes James feel like he kicked a puppy. Clearly Lando is feeling the pain on his girlfriend's behalf at that thought. "But she's alive, and honestly that's all that matters to me."

"Yeah, yeah. Obviously. Is she awake?"

"Yeah, but she's still a little out of it from the drugs. They don't want to ease her off of them yet...it was an aggressive method of fixing it." James mumbles almost looking pained by the thought of what y/n has experienced. "Anyway, you go on. She wants to see you."

"Thanks man." Lando nods before exchanging a quick hug and moving into the hospital room, the sight of y/n in the bed. She's hot a nasal cannula and more wires and tubes around her than Lando would ever want to see around her. "Hey, there's my beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful right now." Y/n states earning a frown before tears begin to fall and the worst words Lando could've ever heard from her are uttered. "It hurt so much and I was so scared."

Lando knows if the drugs weren't in her system, y/n never would've let anyone know that information. Especially not him.

"You're ok now and you don't need to be scared, I'm going to make sure you're so safe." Lando smiles sitting down and taking her hand into his own. "I'm not going anywhere till you are. I love you."

"I love you too." Y/n mumbles with a small smile. "I'm not going to be allowed to drive for a long time am I?"

"Don't worry about that. Right now, all we need you to focus on it getting better so when you're ready, you're back in that car." Lando smiles kissing her hand. "Ok?"

"Ok."

"Now, you get rest because that's the best way to start recovery, yeah?"

"Yeah." Y/n mumbles almost obediently.

-

Y/n asks Lando to handle sharing news online since she does have a lot of people concerned for her since absolutely no news had been shared about if she was even conscious. They're only been able to share how bad the crash was.

Of course in a very sweet post, and thanks to James returning and capturing a photo of Lando leaning forwards to sleep with his head on the bed next to her, clutched onto her hand while she slept.

Then after that Lando decided to share a video on his story just to share a cute moment.

"Hey, baby. What we doing today?" Lando smiles as y/n sits on the edge of the bed.

"Leaving! Hate this bed. 3 days is too much." Y/n grins though it's fairly obvious she's slow moving and not in any rush to move too quickly.

"We're getting her out." Lando confirms then placing his phone down when she tries and fails to put her shoes on without bending down. "I got it, baby. I got it."

Capturing the moment on video of Lando helping her get her shoes on wasn't actually the intention but he's not exactly sorry for it either. The man loves capturing memories in all sorts of ways and while this might not be a time of her life y/n is overly eager to remember, but he thinks it's important for her to remember these moments.

-

Y/n return to the paddock for Japan was a big deal. Though they made sure to have the most heavy duty security they could hire to keep anyone and everyone back. Her spine has done well to heal the fastest but she's not quite been able to push her body for recovery like Carlos had.

Though she tried and Carlos reached out to help. Actually so many of the drivers visited her when she was out of the hospital but still on strict bed rest in the hotel.

"Alright, will you be ok?" Lando asks, not particularly eager to be leaving her with Aston Martin, as much as James being there is reassuring.

"Yeah, I'm good." Y/n mumbles earning a nod from the McLaren driver but he still looks uneasy. "I'm only here with them for a couple hours then I'll come find you."

"I know, I just hate it." Lando shrugs earning a small smile before he leans in and kisses her. "Please text or call if you need-or just want me."

"Ok." Y/n laughs making him sigh before she gives him one final kiss then links her hand to James' for some support. James winks at Lando to reassure him that he's got her.

-

"And there is y/n, on the pit wall between Aston Martin, her team who have been very vocal of the fact that as soon as she is ready to race again. The seat is hers for the taking. But it has been acknowledged that y/n's recovery is long and the F1 medics and doctors have said she is nowhere near where they'd want her to be for driving." Crofty states as y/n watches from the pit wall with James.

"I do want to credit y/n, she's documented the small progress and journey because her fans have been so so concerned. She didn't have to share anything but she has and I think it's really actually woken people up to the risk the drivers take. Obviously footage of the crash is now out there, it was...horrific and knowing that she was trapped, she was in a hell of a lot of pain. It's a big deal that she's even here." Martin adds earning a hum and nod. "I'm sure it's not fun for her to be here watching, I spoke to her and she definitely wants to be back in the car...Lando seems happy to extend her leave for as long as possible purely out of concern for her not getting back into things too quick and before she's ready and fit to be in the car."

Y/n has actually realised it might not be till Spain or Austria before she's back in the car. Which is 6 or 7 races, not including the one she's missing here in Japan.

"How you feeling?" James asks as she watches the cars go past, her smiling as she spots Lando specifically passing by.

"I hate being a spectator." Y/n admits earning a sympathetic smile. "But it's kind of nice getting to watch Lando again."

"Aww...I'm sure he'll love that." James chuckles earning a hum.

-

A few weeks of painfully slow healing and reintroducing herself into training again, y/n is finally making progress to feeling more like herself.

It's in Spain that they decide to test her in FP1. Just to see how she feels being back in the car. Though Lando isn't eager for her to make such a step. Not because he wants to be unsupportive, but he just doesn't want her being in pain because of it.

"You seem more nervous than me." Y/n jokes as they lie in bed together, Lando underneath her while she lies on his upper body. "If it hurts or I can't handle it, then I'll let them know as soon as possible."

"I know you will, I just don't like the thought of you hurting at all."

Y/n doesn't remember telling Lando that it hurt and that she was scared. The drugs were still so heavy that the memories of Lando getting to the hospital aren't something she recalls, but that sentence still haunts him.

Eventually they're up and out the hotel, getting on with their days and while Lando is feeling nervous for y/n. She seems eager and excited.

They're taking a similar approach to Carlos and taking precautions of extra padding when she's in the car and it really is still just the one practice to see how she fairs. If things go well and she feels confident then she could very well be back for Austria.

"Alright, good luck kiss." Lando smiles as he catches her walking out the Aston Martin unit ahead of the practice. "I forgot how good you look in a race suit."

It actually took a bit longer than she is used to getting the suit on with having to add the extra padding and taping her in hopes of making sure she's as secure and comfortable as possible.

"Mmm...I always thought you preferred me out of one." Y/n teases with a grin before looping her arms around his neck and kissing him. "Good luck."

"Good luck." Lando whispers stealing another kiss before he moves quickly away from her.

To y/n's surprise when she walks into the garage, she actually finds herself being applauded walking into the garage and she almost hides herself behind James.

Then she spots a banner over the top of the garage entrance saying "we missed you". Her lip immediately begins to tremble as she tries to stop her emotions getting the better of her.

"Aww...Success. We surprised you." James laughs while the team cheer.

"We've missed you kid." Her head mechanic smiles moving to hug her gently. "The car is all ready for you and you've got 5 minutes before the session starts."

Eventually she's actually given everyone a hug before finally moving back to get her balaclava on and her helmet before climbing into the cockpit and settling down into the seat.

They're careful about the seatbelts while making sure they're as secure as always.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah, I'm good." She nods before smiling brightly with a thumbs up.

Maybe it's not surprise that Aston Martin has made sure to have several cameras on her for her return. They've actually been very eagerly awaiting her recovering and return. But with the risk of her lung collapsing again being 50% in the initial following weeks after it happened. There was no one willing to take the risk of compromising her recovery.

"Radio check, super star." Vinnie's voice states in her ears making her laugh.

"Radio check, lover." Y/n laughs before sighs softly. "When can I go?"

"Soon. Calm down. The track is going to be shit to drive on. Needs a serious clean up."

"I don't care. This already feels like I've just got home."

"Oh stop, I'm tearing up." Vinnie mocks since he knows y/n can take it.

"Shut up and let me out this garage." Y/n laughs which does give Vinnie the push to get her out on track.

When she's directed to get out into the pit lane she's already hyper aware that the cameras will likely be focusing on her. The whole paddock has been completely enamoured by her. She almost feels like it's her first week again.

"The grand return. I have to say it is amazing to see y/n out on track. I have so missed her." Crofty states as they watch y/n take turn 1.

"Yes, she's been working hard. I actually spoke to her trainer James. He said that she's been determined to be back before the summer break. I think it's safe to say that she is more than ready to be back but they fairly want to test her before throwing her in for a race. I feel like it's been a while and we forget that y/n was actually very close to not being with us at all because of the extent of her injuries and the fact she was trapped upside down in that car. If they hadn't got her out the car in time we could've seen a very different outcome."

"Well let's see how she is during and after this practice."

"She's certainly prepared for being the centre of attention. I saw her talking to Laura earlier in an interview and she said that she was absolutely being hounded by anyone and everyone."

"Lando made a comment about it. The poor man has definitely been feeling the stress about her being back in the car. In fact-there he is in a replay in his garage, watching y/n drive past."

"The drivers obviously care when one of them is hurt but Lando is absolutely in love with y/n and vice versa, but when the report came that he was refusing to get in the car during the red flag because of her crash. That was big to me, I mean obviously he had no idea of how sever things were. No one even knew how bad the crash was. He was just as much in the dark as the rest of us and I do believe he would've withdrawn himself from that race."

"I agree. Oh and out he comes. perfectly timed with y/n just ending her flying lap which...wow, y/n may have only gotten back in the car but she's just set a 1:13.1." Crofty chuckles shaking his head. "Oh and there's a nice little wave from Lando as they pass. Very sweet."

"Well, so long as she's feeling good. I think that lap along is certainly a good sign that we will be seeing her in Austria for the whole race weekend." Martin smiles making Crofty agree immediately.

-

Y/n had a bit of a sore neck but other than that, she felt great. Rejuvenated actually.

"I rewatched the whole hour of your practice...You belong in that car on track." Lando grins as they get ready for bed. "Are they sure you can't just do the whole weekend and race?"

"Mmm...I think they want to wait and see that I still feel ok tomorrow. The concern isn't necessarily just the immediately effects."

"I'm so proud of you, baby." Lando grins making her smile as he cups her face.

"You were bricking it the whole time I was out there...I've been tagged by literally every fan a million times in the clips of you looking like you're going to be sick. Especially when I first came out the garage." Y/n smiles before sighing and pulling Lando down to the bed. "But right now I really just need your cuddles."

"Aww...my baby." Lando coos with a grin laughing as she nuzzles into him. "You know...I don't know what I would do without you. I love you so much."

"You don't need to worry. I could crash a thousand times, I'm going to come back to you ever time. Because I love you too...So much." Y/n grins shifting up and kissing him. "Just don't crash like I did, because it hurts like hell and I'd react much worse than you did."

"Noted." Lando smiles before feeling her rest her head on his chest.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mclaren #ln4 one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

[wonuwonder]

still playing? pt 2 – jeon wonwoo

content: 1k words, smut, established relationship, gamer!wonwoo, boyfriend!wonwoo, fem reader x wonwoo, anything else lmk! mdni

an: as promised🫡, i really liked how this one turned out, lmk what you think! lowercase intended. read part 1 here

you’ve been waiting for almost an hour now, since he got carried away playing games. you’ve been needy all day long, and receiving a picture of wonwoo’s bulge in front of the mirror while you were at work hadn’t helped, at all. he knew it would tease the hell out of you so he sent it on purpose.

you were in your bed, trying to read something, but it was all too much. you were stressed out and tired, and the only thing on your mind was your boyfriend’s cock.

you got up and went to his desk in front of your bed, you moved his chair back and sat on his lap without asking, flustering him.

“take a seat then” wonwoo said, and locked his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him while he could still continue to play.

you were kind of pissed at him for not giving you the attention you wanted, so that meant teasing in your books.

you started to rub your ass lightly against his crotch, trying to look as innocent as possible, so that he wouldn’t suspect that you were trying to get off on him. you did it again, roughly this time, which made him groan. he grabbed your hipbone at the surprise and looked at you from the side.

“babe what are you?-” you moved again, completely bluntly this time, whimpering at the feeling of his semi hard cock against your ass. “fuck-” he grunted.

you turned to look at him, and signed at him to turn his mic off.

“can you please do something ? i’m fucking soaked and will rip your pants off if you don’t move” you blurt out.

“you’re really that needy babe?” he scoffed “and all for my cock huh?” he got close to your ear and bit the hem if your ear softly, making you squirm.

“yes won, please” you whimpered, while he moved his hands to your waist, guiding your movements against him.

he reached for the hem of your pijama dress he had bought for you and lifted his hand reaching your pussy, groaning when he finally got to feel your arousal all over his fingers.

“fuck y/n” he groaned, kissing your shoulders. while he started to play with your pussy, making you a whimpering mess in a second. he knew you perfectly well to know what buttons to press that would make you go into abyss. he would never get enough of your sounds and seeing how good he made you feel, even if he was busy, he would never reject making his girl feel good.

“gosh i’m gonna cum-” you whimpered, head falling back to rest on his shoulders, while you rocked your pussy onto his fingers “need your cock inside me” you could barely get your words out, and he had just started.

he kissed your cheek and left your aching pussy, making you take his fingers in your mouth. he made you stand up before him so he could get loose of his pants and boxers, spreading his thighs on his gaming chair, his cock sprung out reaching his lower abdomen, the tip red and leaking with pre cum, he was just as needy as you were.

you licked your lips at the sight, normally you would take him in your mouth instantly but your pussy was aching, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you would save that for the morning.

he grabbed your waist and made you straddle him, rubbing his dick over your entrance, coating himself with your juices, making you both whimper out loud. he lifted your silky pijama dress and made sit on his cock, entering slowly at first to let you adjust to his size. you had been dating for a year now, but his cock was still a lot to take. once you were settled he wasted no time in start pounding on you, lifting you up and down his length, his thighs slapping against your skin. making all kinds of noises. your thighs all wet from your juices trailing down your skin.

his movements started getting sloppy so you grabbed onto his shoulders and started to rock your hips against him, taking the lead, moving yourself deliciously onto him.

“you fill me up so nice won” your eyes fell shut.

“so good for me baby” he growled while kissing and massaging your breasts through the thin layer of clothing.

the noises wonwoo was making made you go absolutely insane, he was a big grunter, but once in a while he became a loud whimperer, specially when you rided him. the sight of him at this state because of what you were doing to him, turned you on even more, even if it was impossible. your moans were loud as hell, and he couldn’t last much longer. he grabbed your hips and thrusted into you a few times before he came undone, gasping and grunting loudly, you coming after him just a few seconds later.

you fell onto him from your high, his palms trailing your spine, squeezing you against his chest, you hissed at the touch, and drunkly kissed his lips.

“better now?” he asks out of breath, smirking at you, brushing the strands of hair from your face, he kisses your cheek and nudges into your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as well.

“fuck yes, that was- gosh i love you”

“i love you too, so much”

you kiss again.

and after a few minutes of silence of just the two of you making out, you hear their intruding voices.

“next time make sure to mute your mic guys” it’s cheol’s voice.

“or don’t, i liked it” soonyoung adds,

“that was hot as hell” mingyu says.

covering your mouth with your hand, you look at your defeated boyfriend’s face, you’ll never hear the end of it now.

tags: @effielumiere @viewvuu @honglynights @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @zerocoded 💗 luv u

#wonwoo #wonuwonder #seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo smut #svt smut #svt fluff #wonwoo hard hours #wonwoo hard thoughts #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #wonwoo fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo reaction #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo au #seventeen au #seventeen oneshots

[oddinarylani]

'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.

w: blood, violence in changbin's

pt 2 is ⇀ here

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 

his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 

two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 

chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 

he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”

and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 

maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”

that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 

but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 

and it eventually all came to a halt. 

the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 

“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 

“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 

“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”

“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.

“i really really wish you just cared for me.”

it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 

“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 

“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 

“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 

“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”

it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 

because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.

“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 

“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 

you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 

“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 

when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 

“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”

 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 

lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 

it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 

and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 

he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 

“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 

most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 

you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 

upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 

your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 

“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 

“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 

“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”

“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”

“but,, it seems to never be enough.”

“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.

against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 

every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 

because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.

what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 

you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 

“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 

“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”

“i want to work in matrimony of us.”

“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”

“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”

a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 

“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 

you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.

your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 

“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”

in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 

“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 

“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 

he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 

“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 

“i wasn’t lying.”

minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 

“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.

your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 

“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 

“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 

“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”

“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 

“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”

minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 

there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 

being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 

“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 

“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 

“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 

“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 

when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 

“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”

you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 

you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 

“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 

“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“it’s okay. you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.

you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”

“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 

“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 

“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 

“i know, i will be.”

careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 

you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 

“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 

“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 

“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 

hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 

“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 

“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 

“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 

“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 

changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 

“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 

“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 

“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 

his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 

“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”

he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 

“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 

“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 

he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”

you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 

“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 

after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 

his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 

“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 

“deal.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 

across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 

you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 

in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 

you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 

there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 

but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 

beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 

“i’m sorry.” 

for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 

two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.

when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 

“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 

“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 

that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 

“i can dress her.” 

they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 

“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 

“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 

you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 

hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 

his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 

“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 

“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 

“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 

“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 

“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 

“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 

“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 

“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 

you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 

hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 

he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 

“i agree.”

sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x female reader #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #skz fluff #skz angst #skz comfort #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x female reader #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin x you #changbin x female reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #formula one #Spotify

[repulsiveliquidation]

Wake Up Call || Jessie Fleming

warnings : this is pure smut. somnophilia (consensual fucking while asleep), strap-on, anal fingering, pussy-eating. enjoy.

summary : jessie comes home to you having some vivid dreams. a good girlfriend always helps their girl in need.

Jessie walked into your shared apartment at 5 am, having flown into London at the last minute to surprise you. She crept in and greeted Milo your dog, giving him lots of pets to try and keep him from barking in excitement and waking you. She dumps her bags at the door and leaves her shoes at the door which she knows she’ll get reprimanded for in the morning but that’s something for her to deal with later.

The door is a little ajar and the bathroom shines a sliver of light into your bedroom. The fan is on high and the AC hums just a touch.

She looks towards the bed and smiles. There she was, the person whom she was sure her bones missed. You looked so peaceful, nose and cheeks lit by the light from the bathroom. They were tinted a little red from the cold room and Jessie turned it down a little. The sun was coming up just a touch in the distance and she knew that you would be up for work soon.

There was a book on the bed face down and she noticed her pillows cradling your head instead of your own. You had her ratty UCLA shirt on, hair tousled from sleep. Your mouth was slightly open and your breath steady. Nothing made her heart swell more than seeing you sleep so peacefully.

She tried to make as little noise as possible getting herself ready for bed, brushing her teeth, and throwing one of your sweats and t-shirts on before standing at the foot of the bed with a little smirk on her face.

She stared at you, watching your body. You had been making noises while she took the fastest shower in the history of man, whines, and whimpers coming from your lips that weren’t exactly soft.

Your hips ground into the soft mattress.

Your hands gripped the silk sheets tight.

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Your lips moaned only one name.

Jessie.

You were having a wet dream.

About your girlfriend.

A good girlfriend took care of her girl’s needs, didn’t they?

Jessie was no longer dog-tired. No, that warm shower made her sleepy but the sultry sound of your voice moaning her name was one that she admits she missed. The phone sex was great but the mics never picked up on the soprano and alto tones of your voice that drove her crazy.

Jessie stood in front of her bedside drawer with her hand on the knob for a solid 30 seconds, debating if she should do what she impulsively wanted to do. You’ve said yes to what she was about to do but she didn’t want to disrupt your sleep.

“Fuck it,” Jessie mumbles to herself, opening the drawer a little too aggressively to pull out her strap. She also notices the lube running low and smirks to herself, putting a reminder in her head to ask you about it later.

She settled the harness comfortably over her hips and threw her shirt off, crawling onto the bed. Jessie smirked and listened to your moans.

“Please Jessie,” you begged, shifting to the middle of the bed with your leg pushed up. Perfect.

“I know darling, just a minute sweetheart,” Jessie cooed, pushing your shirt up and kissing down your back softly. She bit her lip and got a little shy at the sight of a wet patch on your grey underwear, hooking her fingers on the thick band and pulling it off. Your hips lifted for her and for a second she thought you were awake but you only whined a little more and your eyes were still shut.

Her thick fingers dragged themselves through your slick folds and she smiled to herself, lathering what she gathered all over her cock. She sat on your leg and used her hand to keep your leg wide open for her. Her cock was thick and long, one that you took with ease and it never failed to make Jessie wetter than she had ever been in her life when you bottomed out on it.

“Easy baby, there you go angel,” Jessie muttered to herself more than you, guiding her cock right into your aching pussy. It swallowed her up and fluttered a little when she bottomed out, Jessie swore she saw you smirk a little in your sleep now that you were filled. She gave you a couple of seconds to adjust before taking matters into her own hands, hovering over you to thrust gently.  She knew you liked being asleep for as long as she could keep you that way, wanting nothing more than to wake up with sticky underwear and soreness that you could’ve sworn you didn’t go to bed with.

“Jessie,” you moaned, hips rolling back into her as she thrust slow but deep. Jessie tried her best to keep her composure but the way your ass looked and the little whine in your voice almost begging for her broke her focus.

She grabbed your hips and thrust in deep. She moaned as she fucked you, rousing you from your sleep. You were a deep sleeper, nothing could wake you in the mornings sometimes Jessie often resorted to a spray bottle with water she labeled with your name.

“You like that baby?” Jessie asked your sleepy form. She leaned over and pressed her lips to your ears, her Canadian accent slipping through as her hips picked up speed.

“What, is that what you pussy needed darling? Needed me to fuck your needy pussy, is that it?”

Your eyes shoot open and you struggle a little before realizing it’s Jessie, balls deep inside you fucking you awake.

“Jessie!”

“Been saying that a lot tonight, doll,” Jessie teased, kneeling behind you and gripping your hips to grind into you gently.

“When did you get back?” you ask, arching your down onto the mattress. Jessie audibly groans, thrusting a little faster.

“An hour ago,” Jessie answered, fingers digging into the meat of your hips. There were white streaks where she held you too tight and it sent a rush of blood that left a sultry tingle in your thighs. Jessie pushes you down fully, legs extending between her legs in a prone position. She pulls out and scoots down, spreading your ass and exposing your pussy. The sun is brighter now, light shining perfectly to cast an orange glow on your core. Jessie digs in, sloppily eating you out to her heart’s content. Her hands knead the flesh of your ass as she moans in pleasure, heart happy to have your taste on her tongue again.

“Fuck I missed you babygirl,” Jessie mumbles as she kisses up your back. You felt her cock poke at your entrance again and like a seamless machine your hips pressed up into her just as hers fucked into you. You both sighed deeply and you turned to look at Jessie, nodding for her to let loose.

“Use me, Jess,” you begged in your best slutty voice, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jessie smirks, sitting on your thighs and fucking your pussy hard. She gives you no room to breathe, hips pounding deep into your cunt. Jessie gathers your hair into a ponytail and pulls you up by it, spanking your ass as she ruts deeper into you.  

“Use you like this, sweetheart?” she teases, letting go of your ponytail and pulling out again. She steps off the bed and pulls you to the edge, folding you onto your knees and pushing her cock into you swiftly.

“Yuh–yes!” you scream, feeling her cock thrust right into your sweet spot. She relishes in your vulnerability, angling her hips right into your bundle of nerves.

“Such a good girl, doll. Taking my cock so well,” Jessie praises, thrusting roughly into your pussy. She pulls out just a little and spits directly onto your asshole, two thick fingers pushing themselves into it.

“Fuck!” you moan, gripping the sheets tight. Jessie plants a foot on the bed and fucks her cock into you hard, fingers alternating with her hips. She spits into your winking asshole just a little more before pushing her fingers in, moaning as you take it so effortlessly.

“Just one question, my perfect girl,” Jessie begins, thrusting slow but deep into you. Her fingers in your ass scissored you open, a third finger forcing its way in as another blob of spit joins it.

“Fucked yourself on my cock plenty while I was gone?”

You look back at Jessie, the sun casting a glow around her toned body as your orgasm tugged at your navel. Jessie’s hips never once slowed down, her soccer stamina proving to be useful in scenarios like this one.

“Did you?” she asked, fucking into you hard and fast now that she knew you were getting close. She spanked your ass just as you screamed out your answer, cumming all over her cock and rhythmically clenching on her fingers.

“Fuck Jessie,” you breathe out as she pulls out and takes the harness off. Just as she’s about to pick you up and take you into the bathroom, your alarm goes off. She turns it off and smiles, pulling you into her arms.

“I think a day off is in order, princess.”

“Only if you give me the biggest kiss ever.” 

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #portland thorns #canada wnt #woso imagines #woso community #woso one shot #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso x reader

[hisxthighs]

KINKTOBER, october 23 — jay, cockwarming

includes: jay x y/n, jay jongseong park, cockwarming, rough sex, jay choosing video games over you smh

—

you knew your boyfriend had self control, but you didn’t realize how much he actually had. you were currently on his cock, arms wrapped around his neck as you placed soft kisses on his neck. meanwhile, jay was playing his video game. with you on his lap, your walls devouring his cock, he was struggling to focus on his game. however, he was too good at showing that it wasn’t bothering him one bit. any time you’d go to move your hips, one of his hands would push you down. “stay there, baby,” he whispered, hoping nobody could hear him on his head set.

“but jay-” you began to whine but he covered your mouth with his hand, eyes widened to tell you that everyone could hear you through the headset. “shut up and stay still,” he mouthed to you. you sighed and nuzzled your face in his neck.

you believed that jay was addicted to his video games. always choosing to play over spending time with you — or that’s what it felt like to you. he promised you that he would watch a movie with you tonight and make you two dinner, but you got impatient and wanted him to hangout with you sooner — so you decided to tease him — make him want you. although none of it went according to plan, jay wouldn’t even let you leave his lap. this was paradise for your boyfriend… playing video games while you warm his cock up.

he had always wanted to try cock warming. to feel your warm, tight walls surround his cock, unable to move or anything. god he wanted to move. but he knew if he were to move, he’d leave his video game within seconds and let you win, which of course he wouldn’t want happening.

after about half hour of you sitting on his cock, pussy dripping down his thighs from how badly you wanted to move, jay couldn’t take it anymore — not with the way you were whining at any sort of movement whenever he’d move forward when the game would get too intense — he also hated how everyone in the voice chat could hear your perfect noises. jay finally ended the call, bucking his hips up to hit your most sensitive spot, hearing you let out a loud moan.

you quickly cover your mouth, thinking he was still in call, you could feel your face getting red.

jay grips his fingers on your waist, moving you up and down.

“j-jay, your mic-” you mumbled, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you finally got what you’ve been craving.

jay pulls his headset off, allowing himself to hear your moans more clearly. “i hung up,” he looks into your eyes for a split moment before hungrily moving in, his lips crashing onto yours as he moans into your mouth. “you’re actually such a tease,” jay says against your lips, sloppily pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“y-you’re the tease. making me wait half hour on your cock-” jay cuts you off by thrusting his cock in deeper. the chair was squeaking louder than both of you together. “fuuuck,” your boyfriend moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. he lifts you up, off his cock as he stands up. you whine at the feeling of him no longer in you. he carrie’s you to the bedroom and immediately throws you onto the bed, pulling his shirt off as you do the same and falling onto you, crashing his hard cock into your sopping cunt.

“jay!!” you almost scream, nails digging into his back as he fucks you the hardest he ever has.

his name is the only thing your mind knows what to say, walls tightening around his bare cock just as your stomach snaps, cumming around him. he’s grunting and moaning with every thrust and before you know it, he’s pulling his cock out and jerking it off, letting his seed spill all on your bare stomach.

as the two of you breathe heavily, jay sloppily kissing your neck leaving love bites, you close your eyes, “wanna sleep with it in me?”

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #jay smut #jay enhypen smut #jay jongseong park smut #jay park smut #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #jongseong smut #jongseong #smut #enhypen jungwon smut #kinktober #park sunghoon smut #enhypen #jungwon smut #park sunghoon

[sugarnspice630]

Level Up - San

"The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?"

•pairing: dom!San x sub!reader

•word count: 1.3k

•tags: mdni, smut, overstimulation, humiliation, vibrator use (f receiving, m controlling), gamer san, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung are featured in this fic with a focus on Jongho, bondage, reader gets ignored by San, slight praise, slight degradation, heavy teasing

Summary: San was tired of you interrupting his important game-play, so he took care of the problem by tying you up and making you cum many times, while the other members could hear.

Note: Reader internal dialogue will be blue text, San speaking but reader not fully paying attention will be red text.

A/N: Oddly enough this was a fantasy me and my ex had with each other, but we're no longer together so I changed it to be with men I care about now! Please let me know what you think and show your support by reblogging, liking, commenting, etc. Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

San had enough of you interrupting his video game time with the members. Sitting in his lap, just trying to watch him play, giving him kisses every time he got a kill or did something good. Your constant need for attention was driving him crazy, and he had to do something about it. He excused himself from the party chat and muted his mic, or so he thought, before grabbing you off his lap and throwing you down onto the bed.

“S-San? What the fuck?!”

“If you’re not going to be a good girl and not bother me when I’m in the middle of an important mission, then I’ll have to force you to be one.” He snarls as he aggressively grabs your hands and ties them together before attaching your tied hands to the contraption hanging from above your bed.

“S-San I’m sorry!” You stutter in panic at the sudden shift in mood. You didn’t mean to set him off. You just haven’t seen him for a really long time and wanted to spend time with him, but I guess he needed his alone time. 

“Sorry is not gonna save you this time princess.” He turns away to grab something from the nightstand drawer. You realize what he grabbed, and you swallow the knot in your throat.

“S-Sannie please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you can only watch as he pulls your pajama shorts and underwear away from your waist, turns the vibrator on, places it in your underwear, and snaps the bands back to your skin.

“Shut it.” He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You furrow your eyebrows and bite the inside of your lip. The vibrator was pressing right against your bud and already causing a sensation that you knew if it continued, you would cum many times. He lets go of your face and shakes the vibrator’s remote in a taunting way.

“The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?” You nod your head softly, trying to suppress the moan that is threatening to come out already. San leans back away from you and steps away to continue his game. You watch as he picks his headset back up, places it on his head, leaving one ear uncovered to hear if you make any sound, and continues like nothing happened. 

“Hey, sorry guys, I’m back now.” 

You’re biting the inside of your lip hard, trying not to make noise, and just taking it as it is. You’re trying to focus on San talking to the members to take away from the vibrating monster tucked in your underwear. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds concerned…fuck this vibrator is getting on your nerves. 

“No no, she’s…fine. All taken care of.” Maybe if you move your legs a little, it’ll take the pressure off your clit. You move your legs, but it doesn’t solve the problem and only makes you whimper. Fuck…did he hear that? How loud were you? You look up at where San is sitting, and he slowly turns his head to the side, indicating that he heard you. He picks up the remote, increases the speed, and sits the remote back down. You close your eyes tightly and squeeze your legs together. Fuck fuck fuck, that was a bad idea! The vibrator only presses closer to you. You squirm on the bed and try to pull on your restraints, it’s no use; they are not budging. 

“Wooyoung don’t, I got it. No, I said I got it! I’ll kill the Sova.” San please, for the love of god stop talking and just get over here and help me. You tilt your head down and accidentally let out a moan. You can’t even bring yourself to raise your head because you know what’s coming. You feel the speed of the vibrator increase again. “Guys, I told you she’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He’s talking about you, they can hear you. Maybe they could come and help?

“Y-Yunho? Jongho? Wooyoung? H-help.” You cry out and let out some moans in between. You hear San huff, and he turns around in his chair to look at you. You look up at him, and his pants are pulled down a little and his whole cock is out and rock hard. You stare in awe and feel your mouth water a bit. I-I want it. You look up at him with begging eyes, but when your eyes meet his, there is a cold, blank stare looking back at you. He brings his finger to his lips, signing for you to stay quiet, and increases the speed of the vibrator yet again. This has to be the highest setting by now! You moan out softly and you can feel the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, like you are close to your release. 

“S-Sannie please!” You watch as he turns back around, but you catch a slight smirk on his face. He’s enjoying this. That sick fuck! You whimper out a couple more times and squirm your legs together, trying to get yourself off as quick as you can so you can end this. “Don’t you guys enjoy the sounds she’s making~? Cute, little girl, can’t behave for me at all~.” He taunts the members he’s playing with. He’s humiliating you..on purpose! Fuck this feeling, it’s too much! I can’t! You hang your mouth open and cry out softly as you cum for the first time that night. You tilt your head back and just let all the feelings come out. 

“There’s one for you boys~. Should we try for more~?” What does he mean more? You feel the vibrator slow down back to its original speed, and it allows you to catch your breath for a few minutes. You look up to where San is sitting with half-lidded eyes. You desperately want him to turn around and see how much you are struggling, and to help you out. Your breathing is still heavy, but you are not moaning like crazy anymore. “What setting do you want Jongho~?” You move your legs again to take the pressure off and to try to get the vibrator off of your clit to prevent you from being overstimulated. “Oh hoh~ good choice man~.” You feel the vibrator pulse, and then stop, pulse, and then stop. Fuck! N-no!

“M-make it stop. Please~!” The vibrator pulsing and then not was exactly the sensation you needed to get you close to another orgasm. “I think she likes that one Jongho~.” You were already sensitive from the first orgasm, and if this motion continued, you were certain you would cum again sooner rather than later. Letting out a few pathetic whimpers, you close your eyes, and you can feel the corners of your eyes getting wet. “I-I can’t~!” “You hear her, Jongho? You’re making her feel this way.” You sob out from the overstimulation and moan out loudly. “San, please help me!” 

“I think the boys wanna hear you more princess~. I’m not doing anything to help you.” Moaning out at his words, you feel a knot forming in your stomach again. Every noise that comes out of you is a whimper or a moan, until eventually you feel the knot come undone and cum over the vibrator again. The shrill scream-like moan you let out would definitely be concerning if the other members heard it without context.

“My my~ that was a good one~,” San paused his words to turn around and look at you, tilting his head softly to the side and looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "Boys, I wish you could see her right now~. So fucked out and beautiful. I know, I know you all wish to see, but she’s mine, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

Looking up at San, you beg him to stop this torture, quietly saying ‘please’ over and over again. He gets up and gently caresses your face, lifting your chin to make you look at him. He smirks at you softly and asks a question, but more so to the members, cause you know he wasn’t giving you the choice tonight.

“Let’s go for one more, shall we~?”

#ateez #kpop writers #ateez imagine #kpop #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez san #choi san #san #san x reader #ateez san smut #ateez hard hours #ateez san x reader #sugarnspice630

[nvuy]

Boothill is a “your pleasure is my pleasure” kind of guy do u agree 🎤

mdni. im snatching the mic. i got carried away ty anon for giving me an excuse to ramble about this loser.

he takes pleasing you very seriously. this is serious business. it’s like his day job.

he’s half-convinced he was given a second life just to cross paths with you, so once he’s got you, he’s not letting you go. not for a while, at least. he’s stuck to your hip like glue. wherever you go, he’s most likely right next to you.

he’s always making sure you’re catered to first.

it’s the same in bed.

he’s extremely touch starved, so while he’s got his hand between your legs, he’s also busied himself nuzzling his cheek to yours to feel you helplessly panting against his skin. or, his ear is resting against your heart. whatever works for him in the moment.

he’s absolutely smitten with how warm you get. he’s always, always, pressing himself against you one way or another. just touch all over his face, please and thank you.

he’s all for kisses too. sometimes, when he’s having a bit too much fun, he’ll get all mushy and gross. not that he already isn’t, but it somehow gets worse.

he’ll bite too. not enough to make you bleed, but enough to leave an angry mark for the next few days.

actually, he just nips you all the time. it’s a weird thing he does. don’t point fingers in his face. he’ll try eating them. he’s very strange in that way. sometimes you can be gesturing at nothing while you talk, and if your fingers get too close to his face, he’s trying to nip at them like a teething puppy. you got used to it.

great tongue too. bonus points because it’s actually real. he works his magic with it, but only after you beg enough. you gotta work to get your hands on the merchandise. his mechanics are expensive, so play nice.

if we’re getting into unserious business, the robocock is great fun. it’s got smooth ridges and it’s cold. probably customisable, too. it’s definitely possible, but whether he’s gonna wander up to some poor mechanic and ask them to add some special features… well.

either way, your pleasure is always his priority. his hobbies consist of biting every single exposed expanse of your skin and exploring new ways to make you squirm.

it’s bad enough you having to deal with this lump of steel and scrap—frankly, he doesn’t even understand what’s so appealing about it—but if you enjoy bouncing on his lap, go ahead. do it all night for all he cares. as long as you have that pretty dizzy smile on your face by the end of it all. it makes him melt into a puddle of liquid metal knowing how good he makes you feel.

he’s also VERY susceptible to puppy eyes. they’re your greatest asset, and his biggest weakness.

you figured that out after you pleaded with him to put on these clothes you bought him (and, yep. these clothes have just as many cut outs as his usual attire). you can also use them if you want to do his hair. please convince him to wear it in a high ponytail more. he has such a nice face, and it also stops his neck from overheating. those poor fans need a vacation.

it takes some convincing, especially when you show him the hair tie is actually a red sparkly ribbon. you’re going to ruin his tough guy persona. but he’ll drop anything for you, so he’ll comply. on the condition that you give him smooches afterwards. it’s also an excuse for him to indulge in how your fingers feel against his scalp.

puppy eyes, crying, begging, whatever, usually get people he’s apprehended nowhere. he doesn’t care for theatrics. not at all. a criminal is a criminal at the end of the day.

but you? aww, how can he say no to your angel eyes? wanna fuck his face? you didn’t even have to ask! just watch the teeth. and feel free to pull his hair. wanna ride him until he short circuits? sure! if you can keep up. he’s all yours.

and when you’re done, his aftercare consists of coddling and pinching your cheeks. he’ll prattle on about nothing. the subject will change to gushing over how pretty you look in his bed, to the weather tomorrow, to how he misses the taste of spaghetti. he’ll even kiss all over the marks he’s left on you. probably kicks his feet too.

he’s still so energetic it’s mind-baffling. he’s so casual about it too, acting as if he didn’t beg for you to cum on his face just ten minutes ago.

but that’s robot stamina for you. or maybe it’s just a boothill thing. who knows?

after a while he’ll calm down. i still haven't decided if he can sleep, but once you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll lay next to you and draw patterns on the nape of your neck with his fingers.

#$. after hours #$. love mail #$. anon #$. mindless prattling #boothill x reader #hsr boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill hsr #hsr x you #boothill

[tonixe]

goverment hooker..

a/n: I'm back again, there is no surprise. I'm feeling devious so I might post again, wowzers. Also, the sped-up version of the government hooker sound so fire, like it feels like I'm in one of those edits, anyways lemme stop rambling. I hope y'all enjoy, reblogs, and comments will be also appreciated.

warning: smut, penetrating, p in the v, unprotected sex, creampies. proofread (?)

pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader

word counter: 1.4k

What appeals to you to most men, maybe it was your cute antics, your siren eyes that attracted anyone toward you, or your body, sculpted with your delicate curves, and a perky bosom to match the appeal of your young face that can lull a man to sleep.

Or was it how you talked, deliberately making a slur of your words, with your ribboning voice, that can make anyone feel safe and warm with you. You fooled some powerful men, their hearts were already tainted and covered in greed, easy to control someone with their needs. You were in command of it, you made them your pawn, you played the cards, and made a charade of it.

Every time you talked or did anything, you automatically moved your chess piece forward never back. But..what were you doing in a low district as a 'prestigious' woman like yourself, doing in the slum like this. Well, these 'slums' they would call, these 'desperate streets' were your home, even though you won't admit with your own mouth, your words, it still was your home...

Trying to lift yourself from the slums called your homes, to a place where it is much safer than here, maybe to Capitol, but you would need a ticket in. They wouldn't allow just anyone, would they?

But here you were standing in a speakeasy, in a tight little red dress, with a lacey red lining. It was odd to see polished women like you in a bar in District 12, you looked like you were for the Capitol, but all things you see and hear aren't what it seemed. Drinking up on the cheap liquor they offered, looking at the scene in front of you with the happy and dancing couples on the floor, as live music played. The 'Covey' they called them, and the main star, Lucy Gray. Staring at the stage, as she sang into the mic, playing her guitar.

She was familiar to you, the only reference you saw was when she was fighting in the Hunger Games, it was a surprise seeing her still living, breathing, and standing up there, but needless to say, she was still good at what she did. You waving your body to the relaxing music, fixing yourself on the stool, swaying to the music. "What is a lady like you sitting in here" You turned your head to the gentleman talking to you, staring at him.

"I'm just sitting here, enjoying the show," You said, taking a sip of the alcoholic liquid, "How about you" you tilt your head to the side.

"Just enjoying my show" He gestured to your form, and you giggled at his compliment as he sat on the stool beside you. You really got to see the man that was next to you. He had a handsome face and a chiseled face, he wore a blue open-collar shirt and a blondish-white buzz cut, He seemed like one of those Peacekeepers lurking around the district. "Do you do this every girl you see?" You were amused by the blonde man who sat beside you. You wouldn't lie that he was indeed attractive in your eyes. Scanning his frame, his body, his face. "Not to every woman, but to the ones that look beautiful like you my dear" You couldn't help to smile at him, "━And your not bad-looking as well" You admitted, crossing your legs together. As you deliberately lean towards him, revealing a white lacey bra.

Pouting your lips together, "An attractive man indeed" giving him a sultry look, with your eyelids drooping down slightly. "So, what is your name, handsome" You took a sip from your drink, "Coriolanus.." He took your hand and kissed it, "Y/N" you smirked taking your hand gently away from him,

"Should we..take our business elsewhere for a private scene?" You whispered into his ear with a suggested look on your face.

Your hands were with his as you walked in the night street, your body already feeling hot. "Where are we going?" He was amused with your antics, as you batted your eyes at him, "A place, special" you gave him a smirk, your heels clicking down on the wet cement road. A neon sign coming into view, a little motel still opened near the bar. As you opened the door, walking down the lobby of the motel, the clerk managing the reception, "A room for one" The clerk nodded his head, and gave you the keys, "room 9" He said, as you walked away with his hand with yours. Your hips sway sensually, your heels stepping into the room and opening it.

Turning yourself on your heels, stepping closer to the man, "So..what are we going to do?" You pouted, your eyes dilating feeling the feeling of being aroused.

Feeling his hands on your lower bottom, as you hoof your legs around his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you both leaned into a kiss, feeling his hands groping your body. Feeling him moving, as he withdrew from you, your chest heaving. "You do know how to make a man crazy, don't you" He groaned, Feeling him putting your body onto the bed gently,

His body touching you recklessly, his hands going under your dress, slowly taking off your red lacey panties, discarding it on the floor. Biting your lip down in excitement, crossing your legs together covering yourself. Staring at him, taking off his pants and his boxers, feeling yourself getting aroused, as your cunt pulsed.

As his dick sunk into you, the pain writhing through your body, feeling the pain in your lower abdomen. Feeling your cheeks getting flushed, as you groaned in pain. His hips push into you, slowly before increasing his pace.

The bed rocked with your back on the bed, your skirt flipped and your legs being held up with his arms. Your sinful moans came out of your lips, his cock splitting your open, as you bit your lip down. His hands massaging your waist down, "F-fuck" stuttering out of your lips, your lipstick already messed up, smeared on your cheeks.

Your skin felt sticky, your lacey dress sticking onto your skin. "C-corio—" You were cut off from his hips smacking into your pelvis, your hands gripping on the sheet, holding down for support, leaning back in pleasure and relief, feeling a rush of pleasure.

Your slick lubricating his dick, makes him slip inside you easier. Your face burning up, fixing your legs on his around his waist. Your cunt clenching down around him making him groan in your ear. Feeling lips and your crashing into each other, into a hungry kiss. His tongue abused your mouth, making you moan against him, before you withdrew for air, your chest heaving, up and down.

Feeling his cock reaching to your cervix, "Hmm" You whined, your eyelids getting droopy in the process, feeling his slender fingers rubbing the nub of your clit, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, "Corio, I'm sensitive" You whined, his hips grinding onto yours, with his unrelenting pace, arching your back. His hands on your hips tilting up, plummeting into you.

"Don't be greedy, darling" He asserted, harshly rubbing on your clit, making you scream in bliss. His body leaning toward you, his dick still throbbing inside of you, making you go crazy. His mouth sucked onto your flesh, as the blooming mark left your neck.

Your body getting overstimulated, as your body trembled, skin prickling and your cunt dripping out.

Feeling a wave crashing down on you, clenching down around his cock. The pace of his hips getting slower, feeling his hands on your waist, gripping down making you wince. "I'm close" He groaned into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs, "Inside" you mewled, feeling his hips stuttering against yours. His dick pulsed inside of you, as he thrust into you one more last time, painting your walls white, as your cunt fluttered around him. Your body feeling tired.

Falling down on the bed. Feeling his warm essence leaking out of you, feeling himself still inside you. "Don't leave...please" You whimpered, feeling his soft lips on your lips, before he withdrew, looking at him, pursing your lips gently. His hands lift your chin up, "I have to.." He looked at your lips, scanning your face. Taking your appearance from your smeared lipstick to your ruined makeup, before he drew you into another kiss, a longer, more passionate one. For the first time feeling your heart swell with a man you slept with once at a bar, "Please.." you said, breathlessly.

"I'll be back" he gently traced the shape of your lips with his finger, his voice was tender to your ears, lulling you to an endless abyss. As drowsiness took over your body, your eyes shut and closed.

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #tbosbas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow x reader #president snow #coryo snow #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas movie #tbosas #tbosas x you #tbosas imagine #hunger games x reader

[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 1

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n can't believe her luck when the famous Harry Styles invites her and her friend backstage after his concert is over.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 8646

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Almost 20,000 screaming fans, flashing and pulsing lights, percussion, string, vocals, bass, and ego with sex appeal dancing on the stage amongst it all. The entire floor of the venue, stage, walls, and all were vibrating and trembling along with the speakers that thundered with live music, and in the middle of it all the crowd danced and stomped along with the man of the hour. Harry Styles.

For Harry, tonight was a great night. When he performed it was usually pretty fucking great. But tonight, especially, everything was perfect. It was just one of those days that’s a good day for no real reason. The stars aligned, the moon’s gravitational pull balanced everything out, Mars was not in retrograde, and so on and so forth. Who knew what had made it such a lovely day? It just was and Harry was not one to question things like nature and science and destiny. He allowed it to bring him wherever it needed to take him. He was just a passenger on the ride of life.

And everyone in the building felt the same vibes. He just knew it. It had been a perfectly phenomenal day for everyone that he laid eyes on. How could it not? Every time he spotted someone in the crowd and smiled they screamed and jumped excitedly because they were also having a fucking fantastic day. So, okay, sure it might have had something to do with the fact that they were at a Harry Styles concert, and making eye contact with the one and only himself was bound to boost moods.

It was a thrill to wave or smile or call someone out and see their reaction. He loved the attention. Loved watching people swoon and cry out for him. He loved being loved and adored. And tonight, he was very much being adored.

When the song came to an end and the lights went down Harry picked up his Gibson guitar and stepped back up to the mic, signaling the song change. The light shined down over him as he stood gorgeously confident in his black custom Gucci suit sans shirt. His pecs and tattoos bared to the fans, a well-built body proudly on display. He had no reason to not show off. He knew he looked amazing. Not to mention it was also practical because his outfit and the hot lights were boiling.

He loved using old songs from his One Direction days and Stockholm Syndrome always got the crowd to go absolutely nuts. He stood bold and self-assured in front of the microphone as he strummed the guitar and started the song off. Looking at the fans in the center pit they went wild as his eyes roved the crowd, dimples carving into his cheeks at the reaction he got. He’d never get over it.

He began to sing and the sudden greatness of the situation was overwhelming. He knew the universe was giving him something very special at that instant as he strummed and leaned into the mic, belting the opening lines. He wanted to keep his awareness about him and not miss a moment. He was in his element.

And the reason he felt the atmosphere change, he was sure of it the second he laid eyes on her, was standing just right of center stage in the pit. An angel with long hair surrounded by a halo of glitter and the loveliest smile he’d seen in a long time. She wore a bodysuit with a flower pattern that hugged her curves with sparkles all over her skin and her shoulders, gleaming in her hair. Glossy pink and red sunglasses shaped like hearts on her face.

He couldn’t help but look at her as he sang and when he stepped away from the mic to let the fans scream the words he narrowed his eyes at the angel in front of the stage and gave her a quick wave, releasing one hand from his guitar to do so. Watching her pretty pink lips drop open wide when she understood he was waving at her she bounced a little and waved back. Harry’s eyes dragged down her frame again and he realized her tits were bouncing with her. He couldn’t help but notice it. They were supple and she was gorgeous. It was hard not to take her all in as she was.

She hadn’t realized it, until that instant, that he’d been looking at her. She figured that was impossible. There were so many other people next to her but the electricity that buzzed through her veins in that moment had her feeling like the only one in the audience. He continued looking at her through the song, his eyes finding hers as he sang and strummed. His smile deepened each time their gazes met and she felt like she was in a dream. Harry Styles was looking at her and grinning coyly each time his eyes landed on hers.

Y/n was an outspoken person. Someone who didn’t usually hold back with her thoughts and opinions. And even though having Harry looking at her and grinning was making the blood rush to her cheeks and her limbs tremble she knew she needed to call on her boldness to keep his attention. She had an idea before she’d even gotten to the concert that felt like something that would just stay an idea, would remain a little daydream fantasy. But now? She figured why not? She’d seen Harry prancing around at past concerts wearing sunglasses and hats the fans would toss up to him.

But she didn’t want to throw anything up on the stage at him for fear of hurting him or him not seeing it. She wanted to hand him the sunglasses. Maybe they’d even brush fingers. But with the way the stage was set up, she knew that was impossible. Security flanked the fronts and sides and she’d never be able to reach. Instead, she did the next best thing.

The next time Harry spotted her, which was only moments after she decided to enact her plan, she pulled her sunglasses off and pointed at him as she held them up. She was against the barricade near security and Harry’s eyes squinted as he looked at her hand and placed the mic onto the stand before kneeling down next to the man standing in front of the stage. He kept his eyes on the sparkly angel as he pointed at her and spoke to the man who nodded.

The transaction happened in a flash. The man smiled at her as she handed him the heart-shaped sunglasses and then suddenly Harry had them in hand and placed them on his face as he got right back to singing.

The crowd was raucous. Harry wearing cutesy, shiny heart sunglasses got everyone’s attention but Y/n was in awe that he was wearing her cheap dollar store find on his handsome face.

And when the song was over he pulled the sunglasses off and mouthed, “Can I keep these?”

Y/n nodded exaggeratedly and smiled as she bounced a little. It was the best night of her life; she was sure of it. The entire day had been amazing. From the moment she woke up to right then as she had Harry’s grin aimed at her it had been perfection. Even her outfit and hair were perfect. She knew it. It was just one of those days and she felt like it was all meant to be.

She danced and swayed to the songs, sang along with the crowd, and Harry kept giving her glances and cheeky smirks. He was definitely flirting with her.

“I can’t believe he’s keeping your sunglasses! What if he wears them after tonight and he’s photographed with them?” Y/n’s co-worker, Ady, was with her. She and Ady were loose friends. They got along well enough and both liked Harry Styles. So when Y/n scored two tickets and her best friend declined to go to the concert with her she asked Ady. She figured Ady would be willing given the colorful TPWK screensaver she had on her work computer.  

Harry began to interact with the signs in the crowd. Reading them aloud as he casually paced and laughed and made the fans laugh with him.

But as he walked toward the part of the stage where Y/n and Ady were standing Harry pointed directly at Y/n, “What’s your name?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep calm and Ady squealed next to her, “Her name is Y/n!”

Y/n turned to look at Ady and they laughed together but Harry continued, “Her name is what again?” He cupped his ear and leaned in to hear better.

This time Y/n was quick to react, “Y/n!!” She shouted as loudly and clearly as possible.

Harry stood up straight and laughed, “Y/n. Lovely. And your friend’s name?”

Ady shouted her name and Harry nodded, “Is it just the two of you?”

Y/n and Ady nodded with wide grins and Harry sauntered around in the spot as he motioned with his arms, “Y/n, here, gave me a pair of sunglasses and is allowing me to keep them,” he spoke to the fans and then looked back toward Y/n. “And I just wanted to say, thank you, Y/n. That was so thoughtful of you to give them to me.”

She placed her hand over her heart as she shouted, “You’re welcome!” And Harry placed his hand over his heart and winked.

An absolute dream. The whole night had been. The attention she was getting from Harry was something she’d never forget. She was positive that he found her attractive based on the way he kept looking toward her and grinning. It was one of those things that happen in life that make you spark and give you a giddiness that you’ll wake in the middle of the night thinking of or suddenly become overwhelmed with while you’re loading the dishwasher. Something that you take with you and sew into your bones and inwardly smile and gush over. Something that can’t ever be taken away. A small moment in time that’s yours to take with you forever.

Harry did his usual end-of-concert routine, including the whale before jogging off stage. The lights brightened slowly and the sounds of chatter and concertgoers laughing and singing filled the venue.

Y/n wasn’t ready to leave the magic of the concert but all good things must come to an end. As she and Ady were about to file out behind the other pit fans the security guard who handed her sunglasses off to Harry approached her, “You’re both invited backstage. Harry’s invitation.”

There was no way she’d ever get over that night.

The area was set up in two sections. A handful of fans and other people were all in one spot, a large room with foldout chairs and tables along the wall, and then there was another room opposite the large one, where Y/n and Ady were asked to stay. The room was small with a couch and coffee table, a few armchairs, a TV on the wall, and a buffet with pitchers of water and juices lined up with glasses and napkins at the end.

Y/n sat in one of the armchairs and Ady poured herself a glass of green juice, “Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’ll get something in a minute. Just need a second to process everything. That was so amazing, wasn’t it?”

The pair talked about the concert as a man walked into the room and filled a glass with water for himself. He greeted Ady and then Y/n, “Hi. I’m Tommy.”

He sat down and made small talk for a bit, “So, this is the special guest room. Did you get a personal invite from Harry?” His grin was cheeky. Y/n didn’t know what any of that meant.

“Yeah, he invited us backstage after the concert was over. I gave him my sunglasses.”

Tommy nodded and raised his brows, “Ahh… I see. Well, he’ll be done out there soon.”

Soon was thirty minutes later. Tommy turned the TV on and handed the remote to Ady before he left the room. They got to meet Sarah and Pauli before they noticed some of the fans leaving and the other room slowly growing empty.

And when Harry finally walked into the room it was as if time stood still. That cliché was happening in real time. He wore a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt with tennis shoes, and a big smile as he looked at Y/n before greeting Ady with a handshake and a hug.

Y/n stood abruptly as Harry greeted her in the same way.

He sat on the couch and urged Y/n to sit next to him as Ady took the armchair closest and they all talked briefly about the concert. He asked more questions about how they knew one another and if they were from the area, what they did for a living…

He was perfectly polite and attentive. The man was gorgeous up close and Y/n tried not to let her imagination get away from her as he spoke and she watched his features and looked down over his tattooed arm and muscular thighs under his jeans.

Harry laughed at something Ady said and then ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Y/n, “I’m really glad you came. You have good taste in sunglasses. And music,” he chuckled at his joke and Y/n laughed with him.

“But um… would you be willing to stay back with me a bit? If you want?” He looked directly at Y/n as he asked but she didn't assume the question was only aimed at herself and of course, she was willing to stay back with him so she nodded and looked at Ady to make sure she was good with it too.

Just as Ady was about to say something Harry interrupted, “I’m really sorry. I can only have one person stay back per the rules, and since you,” he looked over at Y/n, “were so kind to allow me to keep your sunglasses, thought it would only be fair.”

The sudden realization changed the atmosphere in the room. He was asking Y/n to stay back. Only her. Not Ady.

“Oh, sure. Yeah of course. That’s fine,” Ady smiled and looked at her friend. “Y/n you stay. I’ll go back to the hotel and see you later then?”

It was awkward for sure. Y/n felt a little guilty for being so excited at the idea of being able to hang out with Harry one-on-one but at the same time, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even if Ady had said she would rather Y/n go with her she would have stayed with Harry. She was not going to miss whatever it was he had planned.

She was led into another room. One with a door that Harry closed behind himself. He watched as she looked around. It was what looked like a dressing room.

“Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?” Harry asked as he walked up behind Y/n and honed in on what she was looking at. The rack of outfits. He always had five to choose from for each show. Usually, there was one that was suggested but Harry liked making the final decision. Which also meant each outfit would be tailored the same day as a show regardless if he wore them or not. Now, the tailoring wasn’t much. It wasn’t as if Harry’s weight and size fluctuated all that much from show to show. But lately, he was bulking up a bit. His trainer had him working out for hours each day. Harry’s body was in the best shape it’d ever been in. So some seams were let out and there were a few little tucks and folds and bits that needed to be sewn last minute typically.

“What do you have to drink?”

Harry turned and opened up the mini fridge as he squatted down, “Let’s see. Beer, wine, tequila, whisky. I can get you anything you want, though.”

Of course he could.

“Tequila on the rocks? Is that okay?” She was feeling a bit uncertain. She didn’t know what to expect or what was allowed. She wasn’t sure what was going on in general. Her nerves were starting to erupt a bit at the idea that he might have her in his dressing room alone for something more than just a chat.

“Sure. I’ll have one with you.”

They sat next to one another on the couch and made more small talk. She was surprised that he stayed a couple of feet from her the whole time as he sipped his glass and asked her about her job, her family, a dog she mentioned.

When she’d finished her tequila she tapped at the glass with her fingernails and looked at Harry curiously, “So, um… should I be going now? What’s the plan?”

Harry laughed and gulped down the last of his tequila before clearing his throat nervously, “If you want to go you can but um…” he licked his lips and sat the glass down on the table next to his side and planted his green gaze on her pretty eyes, “I’m going to head to my suite in a bit. It’s really nice and big. Would you want to go back there with me?”

Y/n grinned and squinted her eyes at him, “What for? Are you planning on making a move on me or something?”

Harry sputtered out a laugh and his adorable dimples dug into his face. He hadn’t expected her to say it right then but he could tell she was a bold person. Knew from the start, when she got his attention with her sunglasses that she wasn’t shy and wouldn’t need lots of guidance. Which he preferred. Timid women were nice and all but Harry didn’t like to be the one to make the first move in most cases. He felt that wasn’t fair. He was famous and handsome and it was unlikely a girl would turn him down so he liked it when he was pursued a little. He liked it when the other person made the suggestions and led the way a bit. Felt more authentic that way.

“Do you want me to make a move?”

Y/n sighed and grinned back at him, “You’re not answering my question,” she turned to face him, the glitter on her arms rubbing off onto the couch. “Is that what this is? Because so far you’ve just made a bunch of small talk and you’ve listened to me ramble on about my boring job.”

Harry nodded. Fair enough.

“Okay. Yes. I wanted to make a move. But I feel like doing that in my suite gives us more privacy rather than here. It’s up to you, though.”

“There it is. So this was just a way for you to get me to come back to your room with you.” She smiled as she teased.

Harry laughed a breath out of his nose and nodded, “Yes, Y/n. I hoped you’d come back to my room with me. Will you?”

“Can I kiss you first and then make that decision? I need to know what I’m getting myself into before you get me all alone in your suite.”

Harry gulped and felt his chest get warm. Yes, she was perfectly bold. Exactly what he hoped.

He nodded, “Okay.” He scooted himself toward her body and she moved her hands up to his shoulders and laughed quietly at the absurdity.

Harry smiled and just before he could laugh with her he felt her soft, glossy lips on his and he melted. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and her body was suddenly pressed into his.

When she licked over his lips Harry groaned as he opened his mouth to let his tongue slide out against hers. It all happened so fast and his head was spinning.

She determined she liked, no loved, the way he kissed. A little messy and wet. Plenty of tongue and small moans fell from his lungs. His lips were puffy and soft and she’d never imagined in her life that she’d get to feel his lips on hers but here they were licking and sucking and making out on a couch in his dressing room after his concert.

When she parted they both gasped and their expressions mirrored each other. Blown-out pupils, drooped lids, pink, wet lips, and harsh breaths inhaled into their chests.

“Yes. I’ll go with you to your room.”

They couldn’t go together. Out of necessity. She was taken in a separate car to his hotel and then ushered to the penthouse suite he was staying in.

And she understood the hullabaloo. She knew it was necessary. Not only had she been a fan of his since his One Direction days, and had seen how his fans were crazy, but she also got to see it with her own eyes all the young girls outside of the hotel waiting for him to appear.

His suite was just as posh as she thought it would be. Tall windows overlooked the city lights. The room she entered had tall ceilings, a piano along the wall, flowers on an elegant table, wainscoting wrapped the walls from edge to edge, large wooden doors with intricate carvings, a huge leather couch, and two wool woven armchairs on either side with a low-profile wooden coffee table in the center that looked antique. A huge flatscreen TV across from the couch, a chandelier above, expensive artwork adorned the walls, and a fireplace on the other side with another sitting area and plush pillows piled over the chairs.

Not wanting to wait another second to feel her lips on his, Harry pulled her into his arms and they continued right where they’d left off.

Wet lips and tongues gliding together slowly until Y/n pulled his elbow, “Let’s sit down.”

Harry followed her to the loveseat that faced the fireplace and gestured for him to sit as if it were her room. He nodded and sat, keeping his legs spread apart as he watched the pretty girl climb over him and straddle his lap.

The moment she sat down she felt him under her. He was rock-hard.

“You poor thing. Do you need help, Harry?” She looked at him innocently as he parted his pink lips and nodded.

“Yeah? What do you need then?” She dipped in to kiss him again as she rocked herself over him and he groaned at her moxy. She was quite confident. Harry was already in love.

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

She kissed down over his jaw slowly and heard his chest vibrate as she got lower. What did she want? Well, she wanted to look at him. Wanted to perceive his body up close without any clothes. Wanted to touch his skin and see his tattoos and kiss his pecs and his abs. She wanted to see him.

“Let’s get your clothes off. I want to see you, Harry.”

He was not shy about his body. He’d never been. He had absolutely no problem whatsoever hanging out naked in front of friends or wearing only briefs in front of his family. Though some would urge him to put clothes on, Harry didn’t care if anyone saw his schlong or his balls (well maybe he didn’t want his mom and his sister to see all that).

So when he began to take his clothes off and kept his eyes on hers she watched as he exposed skin little by little. His chest came into view. The laurels, the butterfly, the swallows… He was a god.

But then, when he stood to remove his pants she got to her knees and stuck her fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein underwear, and looked up at him, “Can I take these off of you?”

“Please.”

She smiled at the please. She was tempted to run her palm over the large bulge under the fabric of his briefs first but she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to see him. The moment she pulled the stretchy material down and his cock plopped outward toward her face she moaned as she looked at it closely. Continuing to pull his briefs down his legs, she kept her eyes on his hardened organ. It looked heavy.

“Harry…” she breathed out a moan and looked up at him in all his naked glory. It was even better than she imagined. “Fuck.”

Running her hands up his thighs she focused on the tiger tattoo and delicately kissed over the ink. The solid tissue under his skin was taut. He was strong. His thighs were thick with muscles. Good for a nice hard fuck with lots of stamina, she imagined.

“Can I touch your pretty cock, Harry?” She asked him as she looked up from her spot on her knees. Y/n was still fully dressed but she needed to worship his body for a bit first. It was very important. His build was perfection and he deserved the praise and attention for it.

“Yes, please.” He nodded.

She grinned and tilted her head, “I love it when you say please.”

She turned her focus to the thickened cock before her. He was so hard the foreskin was effectively pulled back revealing his engorged, pink tip. Smooth and pretty. She flattened her palms along either side of his dick over his trimmed pubes and let her fingertips reach up to the laurels at his hips before she grazed her thumb along his shaft.

Harry gasped as he watched her touch him and inspect him. He loved her attention.

“You’re so warm,” she cupped her palm under his shaft and lifted upward. “It’s heavy.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips over the laurels on his hips and sighed as his cock nudged against her chest. The man was incredible. A work of art. She smoothed her palms upward to his stomach and over his abs, tight and well-muscled. Masculine. Pretty.

Y/n had always appreciated how attractive and fit Harry was from afar. Making up scenarios in her head that allowed her to touch him and lick him and do ungodly things to him. Imagining he’d pluck her from the crowd and invite her backstage and then bring her back to his room and fuck her brains out. And she felt like her fantasy was now becoming a reality.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you and see you up close. You’re so sexy, Harry,” she purred as she brushed her hands down to his sides and around his low back as she looked up at him standing over her, “Can I put it in my mouth?” She directed her eyes to his cock and then back up to him.

“If you want. Is it easier if-“

“Just like this. Just need you in my mouth,” she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and lifted him upward, and licked the underside of his cock all the way to the tip. He tasted clean. She could tell he’d showered after the show. He smelled good and he looked even better.

Harry wasn’t sure what to do with his hands but he settled on putting his fingers at the back of her head gently. Not to push her or force her down but just to feel her in his hands and to touch what he could reach.

Kissing the ridge of his frenulum she kept her eyes upward on his as she widened her mouth and put her tongue out before gently wrapping her lips around his smooth tip. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her take him.

She licked and sucked the tip as she slowly stroked him at his base. Pulling back she smiled up at him, “You’re so long. I don’t think I can take you all the way. I’m gonna do my best to make it feel so good for you.” With that, she put his tip back into her mouth and got to work.

Harry groaned and let out the smallest whine, “S’okay. You’re perfect. Just like that, angel.”

She smiled around him and moaned softly at the little nickname. Angel. She figured that was cute.

With her free hand, she brushed her fingers over his thigh and the fine hairs over his skin. There wasn’t any single part of him that wasn’t gorgeous.

Bobbing her head and getting into a good rhythm she found that she could take him a little more. He was still quite thick, though, and it proved difficult.

“You don’t have to… fuck, fuck!” Harry moaned. She felt so good around him doing it just like she was. If she couldn’t deep-throat him he’d still be the happiest man on the planet at that moment. “Don’t have to go so deep. I wanna taste too…” he panted his words.

She pulled back when she tasted his precome and kissed her lips down his shaft to his pubes, seeing flecks of her glitter in the thatch of hair that surrounded his thick base, and then looked up at him before shifting to stand up. She dipped in to kiss his butterfly tattoo, gently poking her tongue out as she went and then upward to his pecs. Using her tongue she lapped at the muscle and wet his nipple before kissing all around, feeling his hair tickle her lips as she let her mouth drag over his skin. She traveled to the other side, her hands on his ribs, kissing and licking at his pectoral.

She sucked his nipple into her mouth and moaned when he gasped in response. Up she ventured to his swallows just under his clavicle, kissing the ink over his bone and skin and then his neck again.

“You’re gonna make me come just like this. Holy shit.” Harry was so hard it hurt and her lips on his skin felt like magic. “Please. Let me lick you too. Take this off.” He pleaded as he plucked at the fabric of her bodysuit.

Y/n stood back and began to unzip the back as she watched Harry. The girl was gorgeous already. Her hair with glitter and soft lips, round doe eyes… but when her tits softly bounced from the fabric she had them trapped under he nearly fell to his knees.

Her nipples were already tight and hard and the flesh that surrounded them was indulgent. Plump. He watched as she pulled the material down her body until she was nude. She’d had nothing on under her bodysuit.

Harry reached to cup her breasts and the moment his palms found her delicate skin and felt her nipples pressing into his hand he leaned down and wrapped his lips around her nipple.

Harry Styles pink lips were sucking on her nipple. The Harry Styles (she repeated in her mind). She didn’t know what sort of good thing she’d done in life to deserve having this happen but she would not question it. She stuffed her fingers into his soft curls and cooed at him, “Feels so good, Harry. I love having your mouth on my skin like this.”

Harry squeezed and kneaded and licked and sucked. He peppered kisses over every inch of her breasts until Y/n was keening and her fingers were tight in his hair.

He pressed his lips to hers and pulled her toward the big bed, her back hitting the mattress solidly before he climbed between her legs and moaned at the state she was in, “Just need a taste. Is that okay?” He looked up at her, his hands smoothing from the inner bend of her knee up toward the top of her inner thigh, inches from her pussy.

“Yes. Of course, it is.” She was going to say more but the words caught in her throat as she watched him go in tongue first. Her cushiony crease was damp and tasty.

Pushing her deeper into the bed, he kept himself between her thighs before putting his arms under her hip and pushing his shoulders against the back of her thighs to keep her spread and open for him.

He began to lick and lap as he watched her eyes. The scruff on his face brushed at her soft skin and her pussy lips felt it too. But she was not going to stop him. She hoped she had scruff burn, or whatever the equivalent of a carpet burn from being eaten out by a man with an overgrown trim on his face was called.

Soft and wet and cushy. Harry was gentle with his licks and kisses. He was wetting his lips and tasting her arousal, swallowing it down, and digging in a little deeper when she started to pant and swivel her hips.

Suddenly the quick flicking of his tongue on her clit caught her off guard from the subdued licking and kissing he’d issued her at first. She moaned as she watched his pink tongue ravage her button. He was pushing into it, flicking it, pressing it down, lifting it up, and then… then he looked into her eyes as he wrapped his lips around her clit and pulled it into his mouth. Slurping noises took over the easy slushy sound of his tongue licking through her folds.

“Harry!” She craned her neck to see what sorcery he was performing, “You’re so good. Right there… yes!”

He had a few go-to cunnilingus moves. This one always seemed to get the biggest reaction the fastest. It also brought women to orgasm in record time. It took some practice but he’d suck the clit and continue flicking his tongue while applying pressure with his mouth over the pelvis.

And the way she was squirming indicated she was enjoying it very much.

He released her clit and then went back to slow licks and kisses up her crease. He stopped at her entrance and lapped at the slick spot for a moment before sticking his tongue inside as far as it would reach. Nuzzling in as close as he could get, he poked his tongue in and out and nudged his nose to her clit, rubbing back and forth.

“Fuck! Yes… Oh my god!”

Harry gently rocked his hips down into the mattress. His cock was throbbing. But he wanted her to come.

Y/n saw his motion and could tell he must be aching. And as much as she’d have loved to let him take his time and eat her out it could take awhile to get her to come from that alone. But she knew one thing that would satisfy her like nothing else.

“H…Harry?” She panted her words as he continued working at her pussy with his mouth.

He lifted his face, “What is it?”

“Would you… Do you want to have sex?” She wasn’t sure if that was where this was headed. Oral sex was great of course. But she’d seen his cock and his body was strong and lithe and she knew he’d be good at fucking. It was all she could think of. Having him inside of her, splitting her open, moving into her repeatedly…

Harry sat up, his chest red and his cock even redder, “Sure. I mean… I’d love that. But this,” he gestured toward her and then himself before putting his palm back on her inner thigh, “is only just for tonight. I just want to make that clear. I’m still on tour and… well you know.” His breaths were deep and ragged.

He hated to give the spiel right then, but it hadn’t come up and if there was one thing he learned in all of his years of having casual sex, it was to be upfront even if it put a slight damper on the mood. It was better than waiting until afterward.

She nodded and grinned, “Well yeah. I didn’t think you’d propose to me or anything. I know what this is. Just for tonight.”

Harry and Y/n positioned themselves on the bed into the pillows and Harry reached over to grab a condom but Y/n took it from him before he could open the wrapper, “Let me put it on you, big guy.”

Harry clenched his jaw and watched the pretty girl tear the wrapper and then straddle his thighs as she held his thick shaft in her palm so she could position the condom over his head before slowly rolling it down over his shaft, “Mmm… It’s tight on you. You’re so big, Harry.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Harry was a big fan of having his ego stroked. Loved being complimented. Praised. Loved when his cock was fawned over.

When the condom was on, Harry grabbed her hips as she climbed over him, lowering her pussy against his condom-covered cock and slipping up and down his shaft to wet the condom.

Glitter was everywhere. On his torso, on her tits, his shoulders, her thighs. She was too far gone to worry about what that could mean for later. She just wanted to feel him inside of her. She ached to have him inside of her.

Their mouths met again as they moved slowly together. Y/n could feel Harry’s tight grip on her thigh and then as he moved one hand to cup her ass, he squeezed and bucked up gently.

She couldn’t wait to get him inside of her so she lifted herself to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders, “Can I fuck myself on your pretty cock now? You ready to feel me?”

Harry moaned, “God yes.”

Harry was in awe of how she was speaking to him. Not shy and not over the top with how she was taking the lead either. She still allowed him to do things he wanted, but she took initiative and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

She grasped the base of his cock and looked down to where they were pressed together as she placed him at her entrance. Harry’s rigid cock was thick and she felt how tight the fit was the moment she slid down over his crown.

Harry groaned and moved both of his hands to her tits and squeezed as she took her time sitting over him.

“You’re so hard, Harry. So thick. Do you feel that?”

Harry’s head was spinning. Y/n was exactly what he needed for the night. The perfect combination of sexy and bold. An angel who knew what she wanted and took it. “Yes, angel… god… gonna dream of this forever,” he looked into her eyes once she was finally seated over him, his dick pressed into her so deep she was sure there had never been anyone that had reached that far into her before.

She knew this was just for the night. Understood Harry’s reasoning and figured that’s what this was going into it. But this was something she’d never forget. She’d always look back on this fondly. And even though he was looking at her in such a way that felt far more intimate than it should, she wouldn’t allow herself to wonder what it would be like to see him again. Because that was definitely not going to happen.

When she began to glide up and down shallowly they both panted in shaky breaths. Harry was glad the condom was giving him the slightest barrier so he didn’t come immediately. Because her tits and her skin, the soft specs of glitter, her lips, and tight pussy were begging for his orgasm. Begging for his come. Everything about her was sex. A gift in the form of a glittery angel that was coaxing and urging an orgasm from him.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard. Fucking perfect,” Harry whispered as she slowly ground over him and pressed her clit into his pelvis.

She nodded and smoothed her hands up, one at the side of his neck, the other on his jaw, “Yeah? My pussy feels so good, doesn’t it? Nice and tight around you. I just know I’m gripping the fuck out of your big cock.”

She moved slowly over him. Gently riding herself on his dick and keeping her clit stimulated as they kept their eyes on one another.

Finally, she leaned in and pressed her lips on his neck and squeezed at the opposite side of his throat as she nipped his skin and drew her mouth upward to his jaw, “God it feels so good, Harry.”

It did feel good. The best maybe. She loved that she got to be in control a little. Loved how he was letting her take the reigns. But she did want him to fuck the life out of her. Put his strong muscles to work. To make a loud chorus of sex sounds and moans bouncing off the walls of the suite.

Stopping her gentle rocking and grinding she licked into his mouth slowly before pulling away, “I need you to fuck me so hard that I feel it for days. Okay? Since this is all we get, want to take you with me through the week.”

Harry let out a whimpered laugh as she removed herself from his lap. Harry followed her and climbed over her as she laid herself down on her back.

He would give her exactly what she wanted. Harry could fuck. That was for certain. He didn’t work out as hard as he did for no reason. And he was attentive so he knew he could at least make it fun. He hoped to give her an orgasm and that was the goal. But if she wanted it hard, wanted to feel him for days, he’d make sure of that.

He pushed himself between her thighs and pulled her hips toward him, elevating her bum off the mattress the slightest as he placed his fingers on her clit, “I’ll fuck you hard, angel. But you tell me if you need anything or you need me to stop. Okay?”

Y/n nodded and grinned at him, “Give it to me, Harry,” she moaned and rolled her hips upward, pressing her clit into his hand. Her thighs were angled upward with her feet flat on the mattress, her bottom resting between Harry’s thighs as he sat back on his haunches. This position would give him plenty of leverage to fuck into her hard and deep using his strong thighs.

Harry’s whole shaft was already coated in her as he lined himself up with her pussy. Removing his fingers from her clit he leaned forward and gave her tits an obligatory squeeze before he pushed his tip in, feeling the tight snap of her muscle expanding and receiving him.

They moaned in unison at the feel of him entering her slowly. He pressed in and slicked himself back out to the tip, watching the way she stretched around him, perfectly wet and aroused for him. And the next plunge he took wasn’t slow at all. She gasped as he slammed himself in to the hilt and held onto her hips, knocking her upward and making her tits bounce.

His pace was relentless and she knew it would be. He was strong and full of stamina. Each thrust and prod into her guts felt deeper and deeper and sharper and achier. She loved it.

She could barely get a single moan out with the way he was punching himself into her.

And just like she wanted, the sounds of sex surrounded them. Skin thudding together wetly, the smallest squeak of the bed rocked in time with his harsh thrust as he hammered into her, and their deep breaths and moans.

The view of her pussylips gripping him on each stroke was phenomenal. The smells, the sounds… The way her tits bounced and her mouth was dropped open. He knew at the very least she was enjoying it.

She moved her hand down her torso and to her clit while the other hand grasped onto one of Harry’s forearms where he kept a tight grasp on her hip.

Soaked. She was absolutely drenched. Her fingers slid over her throbbing button back and forth as Harry thrusted himself in and out deeper and deeper.

“This what you wanted, angel?” Harry asked the pretty girl who was quite clearly fucked out and flopping upward every time he plunged in balls deep.

Her tongue slid over her wet lips, “Oh! Fuck, Harry!” She gasped loudly.

Coming to a halt, he buried himself in until his balls were pressed into her bottom and he undulated his hips to punctuate just how deliciously deep he was inside of her.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of his cock grinding into her, [TK1] “You’re fucking me so good right now,” her chest was rising and falling and Harry couldn’t help when he brought a hand up to her breasts to fondle and press over her nipples, thumbs gliding over the supple skin. She sucked in a sharp breath and stretched her neck, keeping her eyes on his, “But you can always go harder.”

Harry blinked and coughed out a laugh, “Really? You want harder? Can I spank you?”

Y/n nodded quickly, “Fuck yes.”

And that was that. Harry loved a good spanking (whether giving or receiving if he were honest). He pulled out from her sweet pussy and lowered himself over her to kiss her mouth quickly.

But the moment he pulled away she was sitting up and turning herself around to give him access to her ass. On her hands and knees, she looked at him from over her shoulder and noted the way he was taking her all in.

He whined and grabbed onto the globes of her bum and smushed the flesh in his hands. Smoothing his palms over the expanse of her backside he brought them down to the backs of her thighs and then back up, letting his thumbs drag inward and through her wet pussy crease before finally issuing the first harsh strike.

She jumped at the sudden impact but when his palm came down on the other side she melted into the way his big hands felt on her. The sting and the leftover burn. Repeated smacks on either side were interrupted when he slammed his cock into her.

“Fuck I need to be inside of this pretty pussy.” He continued smacking her bum as he drove into her with long and hard strokes, bucking into her with meaningful thumps.

Y/n grasped the blankets under her and kept herself steady but by the time he was finished bruising her backside, his hips began to rock into her at a jarring pace once again. She slowly began to slip forward from his force.

With the front of Harry’s thighs pressed into the back of hers he put an arm under her middle to keep her from slipping too far down. His other hand moved from her hip down to her bum and pulled at the cheek as he rutted into her, a steady clatter of bodies knocking together.

Y/n reached down to rub her clit again, pushing Harry’s arm out of her way. He breathed out a laugh but moved his arm, bringing his other hand to the other side of her bottom, pulling both cheeks apart so he could watch himself sink into her over and over again. Small bits of her white cream were smearing over his condom and he imagined what it might look like to fill her up with his come and fuck himself into her, pushing his own orgasm deep into her insides.

“Harry!” She managed to cry out. It was difficult to speak at all but she was so close and the way he was rocking his hips into her in heavy plunges was perfection.

“I know, angel! You gonna come?” Harry’s words were strained. He was holding out for her to come first. Wanted to feel the squeeze and the throb of her pussy around him.

“Yes! Keep going!”

Harry could feel her fingers brushing against his balls as she rubbed her clit rapidly.

“M’gonna come… please, Y/n! Come for me angel!” He was trying his very best to stave off his orgasm but the view of her taking him and the sounds of him wetly plunging into her were sending him over the edge.

Suddenly Y/n removed her fingers from her clit and brought her hand behind her to grab Harry’s and pulled it forward, placing his palm over the front of her neck, “Choke me.”

Harry groaned as he put one palm flat onto the mattress next to her and used his other hand to squeeze at the sides of her neck. His strokes became slower, his hips pasted to her, pushing inward deep and heavy and sticky.

She sucked in one desperate gasp before his grip tightened just enough that she began to feel that sparkly, wooly stupor she loved with being gently choked. She reached for her clit and all she could focus on were the sounds of Harry grunting and moaning softly into her ear and the feel of his cock lodged deep into her guts. He wasn’t pulling back, only fucking himself forward, deeper and deeper as she submitted to her orgasm.

Harry could hear her wet gurgle and feel the way she vibrated under his body as he rocked into her and then the pulse of her soft walls, wrapped around his cock, gripping him tight as she fell into the realm of stupor and ecstasy.

He let go of her neck and straightened himself out, putting his hands onto her bottom and spreading her as he began to pound into her, long, smooth strokes of his cock nudging into her insides, stretching and splitting her as she came with shaky thighs.

“Fffucckk!” He threw his head back, the image of her swollen, wet, fucked out pussy seared in his brain as he began to come into his condom, filling it up with warm liquid. He groaned loudly into the suite as his balls were being properly drained, wishing, imagining he was giving her his come, coating her insides with him where her body would receive, swallow it, and use it accordingly.

“Oh my god, Harry!” Y/n gasped. He had nudged himself in as deep as he possibly could and the throb of his heavy cock in her felt like decadence. She couldn’t wait to check out the marks his fingers left behind the following day. The little secret only she’d know.

They collapsed together into the bed, Harry pulling out and carefully taking his condom off, discarding it on the floor without much care.

“You’re gonna stay here with me tonight?”

She let her fingers slowly work their way up his abs and over the butterfly, “If you want me to. I don’t mind leaving.”

She didn’t want to leave and Harry didn’t want her to either.

“I want you to stay. I’ve got a wake up at 9 am for a training session so, we can get you a taxi to your hotel or wherever you need then,” he sighed and dug an arm under her shoulder, dragging her toward himself.

Closing her eyes and smiling into his shoulder she nodded, “That sounds great.”

It was a shame this was all only for the night. He’d been an excellent lover, but it was fair of course. He was a busy, famous, pop star. She couldn’t blame him for setting that boundary. She was glad she even had the chance with him at all.  This would definitely be something she’d never forget.

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @daphnesutton @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #famous!harry #famous!harry x reader #harry styles fic #firstpost #harry styles writing #commissioned work #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x yn #one direction #harry styles x y/n #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction

[angelsrcute]

I’ve loved reading through your blog it’s so good!

Would love to request Idia edging his needy s/o with a sex machine while he’s gaming since they won’t leave him alone. They still get his d afterwards, how nice he is just depends on whether he won or lost 😈

DO NOT DISTURB. ౨ৎ

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Idia + Sub!gn!Reader ➜ cws: use of sex toy, degradation, rough sex, spanking (once), Idia accidentally leaves his mic on. ᡴꪫ‎

Idia was a very busy man. Busy doing his dailies and playing games!! This man planned to not get out of his room today, it was the weekend and what other way to use it than playing games with his online buddy.

You rather were bored because you had nothing to do and thought of visiting your beloved boyfriend. (and maybe get him to touch grass.)

Now, here you were, your hands bound to the bedpost as you squirm around. The dildo pushing into your hole at a fast pace, stretching your insides. It's so damn close to hitting your good spot but Idia keeps on turning off the machine just when you're close. So mean.

A soft whine escapes your lips, all while idia plays on his pc, his mic on. You were teasing him too much, distracting him, ugh. You were sitting on his lap, your hands ghosting over his thighs, prepping light kisses on his neck. You definitely deserve this.

He proceeds to ignore you, talking so normally to his friend. Another loss, the game over screen mocking him. This dude is so frustrated that he could smash his keyboard.

The sex toy thrown on the floor as he fucks you stupid, legs thrown over his shoulders, his dick kissing your sweet spot everytime he thrusts.

“What? Didn't you want me to fuck you, huh? I am, so be a little grateful. I'm not stopping till you learn your lesson.”

Drool falling on the pillow, eyes hazy as you can't even say anything, only moans and whimpers escaping your mouth. One of his hands on your neck, blocking your oxygen supply. You swear you can see stars!

“It's too much? LOL, should've thought about it before disturbing me.”

His other hand keeps you in place. Tears forming at the corner of your eyes, hands clawing at the sheets. Your neck decorated with pretty hickeys given by him. He lands a harsh spank on you ass, making you yelp out his name.

“You're such a slut, liking this, Y/N..”

He presses a rough kiss against your lips, climaxing with a final thrust. His dick twitches as a grunt escapes him, filling you up with his cum. He falls on top of you, panting heavily.

“Oh uh, I'm sorry, I hope that didn't hurt too much, yeah?” He says as he feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Dude, this looks like a straight out of a hentai video!!

You both hear a message notification pop up on Idia's pc.

“Oh, you youngsters are so lively these days, also you forgot to turn off the mic! keke..” – Muscle Red. :3

#twst smut #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x yuu #twst x y/n #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #idia x reader #idia smut #idia x yuu #idia x you #dom character #sub reader #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

[riality-check]

A continuation of this post. Part 3

ao3

As that long-haired guy walks away - his friend onstage called his name, but Steve didn’t catch it - Robin nudges Steve.

“Asshole roadies,” she says, sing-song.

“Get fucked,” Steve says with her.

It’s tradition, that little chant. Every gig, there’s always one venue where someone with far less experience says something. Steve knows he was blunt and probably shouldn’t have said anything with that tone, but after too many times, his patience is exhausted.

He can’t even blame the blunt thing on ASL. If anything, he’s meaner in English.

It makes sense. He knows English a lot better. He and Robin only started taking the ASL classes two years ago, when he really needed it. His left ear had been pretty much gone for a while (fuck you Billy Hargrove for putting ceramic in his scalp), but he sucked it up and started learning when his right ear started going, too.

Honestly, he has no idea what caused that.

Two years of ASL means he and Robin aren’t fluent yet. Not even close. But between that, his residual hearing, and the lip reading he’s relied on for longer, Steve does alright. If he wasn’t at a gig, he’d bring his hearing aids, but that’s a recipe for disaster and broken equipment.

Plus, he’s learned he can’t focus on his job when he hears as well as feels the music.

Robin taps his arm again. You good?

I’m good, he signs back.

They finish setting up before they grab a snack. The venue is pretty tiny, a standing room only place that serves pizza and a few drinks, and that’s it.

The pizza is really good though.

They finish up their slices before they go back to the booth. Robin is particular about not eating around the equipment, and Steve has long given up on fighting her.

Their jobs are pretty easy, in all honesty. The light cues are pre-written, and sound check was an hour ago. All Steve needs to do is hit the cues, and all Robin needs to do is adjust mic levels and turn them on and off as needed.

This leaves plenty of room for a healthy amount of fucking around.

As Robin, always on his right side, starts telling him a story about her friend’s ex’s (who is also her friend, because lesbians are just like that) latest date, Steve watches the crowd file in and nods along.

His mind, however, goes back to that guy. Someone always says something, and it’s always someone new to touring. Steve can just tell. All the rookies do the same thing; they look at the stage with wonder in their eyes. This guy was no different. Just some rookie giving Steve a problem, like always.

Except that this guy was different.

Rookies tended to want to prove themselves. They wanted to show off their fancy knowledge and make it clear that they belonged there along with everyone else who had a career. They wanted to catch Steve off guard, make him thank them for helping him out.

This guy didn’t do that. He was nosy and pushy and pretty and rambled a lot, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to look out for Steve, even if it was none of his business, even if he didn’t know him.

He ended up being a bit dickish, but he wasn’t trying to be. If Steve were a nicer person, he’d think that might count for something.

Steve is trying to be a nicer person, with emphasis on trying.

His watch vibrates, jolting him back to the moment. He lowers the lights, cueing the openers to go on.

The set list, along with Steve’s cues, is in in a binder between him and Robin, lit by a book light with a battery that’ll die at least twice, with their luck.

The first opener is a band Steve has never heard of called “Corroded Coffin.” If they’re any good, he might listen to their music.

Big emphasis on might because he’s not a big fan of metal. Punk has better bass lines, one that Steve likes to feel in his chest.

He hits the cue when they start their opening song, lighting them in reds and purples and-

Oh. Shit.

That guy wasn’t a roadie. He’s part of the opening band. He’s a guitarist.

A really good guitarist.

A really hot guitarist.

Steve is so caught up in stating that he nearly misses the next cue. He doesn’t, though. He’s a professional.

Robin elbows him, and he turns to see her signing. For one hopeful moment, he thinks she’s signing “hungry” and will offer to get them both more of that really good pizza like the wonderful friend she is.

But then she repeats the sign, again and again, and Steve smacks her before hitting the next cue.

“I am not horny!” he whispers, clearly loud enough for Robin to hear through her earplugs because she laughs.

You think he’s hot, she signs.

Steve rolls his eyes.

I’m right! she teases.

Steve faces away from her for the two seconds it takes for her to tug him back.

“Not fair,” she says, and Steve only gets it because it’s light enough to read her lips.

The band has gone through two songs, and the lead singer, a tall Black guy, is saying something to the crowd. Steve hears it just fine with all the mics, but understanding is too much of a struggle to bother.

He doesn’t really care anyway. He likes feeling the music and hearing it with what he has left (his audiologist said it won’t accelerate his hearing loss, so any hearing protection is a waste of money), not listening to whatever the bands have to talk about.

Anything important? he asks Robin.

She shakes her head.

Steve turns back to the stage in time to hit the next cue, casting the band in blue as the guitarist starts playing a really low intro.

Did you hear his name earlier? Steve asks.

Robin says something, but it gets lost in the music and the dim light.

“Hettie?” Steve asks aloud.

Robin shakes her head. Sorry.

She finger spells, messing up once and throwing it out with a wave of her hands.

“Eddie?”

She nods.

Steve hits the next cue and uses the rest of the time to appreciate the view. Eddie really is hot, in his dark jeans and tattered tank top, grin on his face and quick-moving fingers. And Steve has never had a chance to talk to the talent, even if they’re nosy.

But Eddie was nosy because he was worried. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.

He didn’t mean for it to be, the terrible little rational part of Steve’s brain pipes up. And he apologized. Multiple times.

The bigger part of his brain reminds him that it doesn’t matter what Eddie meant it as. Steve effectively tanked any hope when he snapped at him before the show.

Oh God.

He has to do a whole tour with this guy. Who he was a total dick to.

Yikes. At least he has Robin, who is-

Currently staring at him and signing “horny.”

Steve smacks her again, which she laughs at and returns instantly before they focus back on their jobs. They’re professionals, goddammit.

Professionals who are already on less than stellar terms with one of the openers.

He’s so not looking forward to the next few weeks.

Tag list (this is not a regular thing for me but it was manageable this time!): @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #corroded coffin #hoh steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #st #st ficlet #also squad don’t get used to tag listing #i’m very inconsistent with it #gi;pe au

[hyewka]

Like, u got Soobin to use those vibrators on his pants before and during his performance, you're backstage while watching him live, turning on the vibrator at different levels in different times, maybe low level when he's talking with his fans, medium when he starts dancing and the highest level whenever it's his time to sing while he tries his best to concentrate and sing stable while trying not to get a boner or cum during the performance, while noticing the little details of how startled he gets whenever the vibrations starts again and waiting for his performance to end just to drag him to an empty room and finally fuck good

cw. sub leaning switch!soobin, creampie, premature orgasm, f!reader

note. happy valentines everyone ^^

“Don’t cum.” is the last thing you whisper to his ear before you push him out to his fans with a smile, the roaring cheers really showing how big the turn out was tonight. You can tell with the way he turns back to you he’s asking for mercy, begging for it. You just opt to give him a thumbs up before shooing him away, at least to ease those nerves up. You wouldn’t want him to cum simply from thinking about the toy around his cock.

Long story short—you don’t give him mercy. What fun is that?

You watch the way he gets visibly comfortable the more the show progresses and its definitely because he noticed you’ve been keeping the setting on low. It has you snort. He’s such an open book, it’s the cutest thing about him. But it’s also his most vulnerable point.

Experimentally, you turn it up two, curious of how he’d react.

There’s other staff monitoring with you, so you put in the effort to pretend you have nothing to do with the small hiccup that occurs, scrolling through your phone as if you were busy.

Soobin’s voice cracks.

It’s not a big deal, just something that happens that you don’t think even the fans paid much attention to. You notice a lot more than that though when you look up from your screen.

For one, the tips of his ears are red. Really red. You know better, it’s not only because he’s embarrassed. If the fact that you can tell he’s letting his eyes glaze over a little with his mouth hung open when he’s no longer in the center was any indication.

You play with him like that a little more before you decide you might just be the greediest girlfriend ever. You turn it up to its highest setting, just to relish a little more in his little gasps heard in the mic— and god, the immediate reaction you get out of him is the most satisfying thing you’ve seen all week.

Soobin’s eyes shoot wide open almost like hes shell shocked, his breathing’s even heavier, his cheeks are so brightly colored that it could no longer be excused as the bit of blush applied to his face half an hour ago…and he definitely looks like hes checked out. Thats when the comments from the people around you started to pick up.

“What’s wrong with Soobin today?”

“Is he sick?”

“Should we cut the ments short?”

“He looks like he’s about to piss his pants…” — That one had you gigglr

While some were picking at their cubicles, wondering if this might’ve not been the smooth sail they were predicting this gig to be, you let that little small smile break seeing the very obvious boner outlined in his leather pants, leaving the crowd no room for imagination. Oops.

You can only shrug when you’re asked if you know what was up with your boyfriend. “Who knows, maybe its a bad day?”

##########

He’s everywhere—his lips kiss along your jaw then to your neck, sucking and kneading your bare tits at the same time. He’s absolutely delirious tonight.

“You’re so sweaty, gross” you giggle, jokingly pushing him away but hes not having it, caging you until your bodies were flush agsainst each other to the point your breathing cut off momentarily, your head getting light headed.

“Someone’s excited.” you say breathily, attempting to be cheeky but it doesn’t work as your resolve breaks almost immedietley when he sucks particularily rough on your flesh. You’ll have to spend some time covering it up when he’s done with you.

“It hurts,” he whines in your ear, feverishly grinding his hard on like an absolute freak, still leaving wet spit on your vacant flesh. “You were so mean to me, y’know?”

“Was I? Thought I went a little easy on you out there.” you take it upon yourself to put your hand between your bodies and palm him over his pants, releasing a little bit of tension from his poor body. “Maybe you’re just weak. Can’t stay focused on your job because all you’re thinking about is having your dick in my cunt instead, bad boy.”

He nods pitifully—clearly absentminded, eyes teary and clouded as you thumb his tip over his pants, so shamelessly a wet spot spreads and grows under it.

“Please. Let me fuck—y-you.” his breathing staggers, trembles, you feel it against your face with how close he is…and it’s the hottest thing ever. For someone so usually composed, the leader of a band he’s a part of, well spoken and articulate, building tougher skin as time goes by—seeing him being weak in the knees so often, like this, dirty and desperate, never fails to have you drench your panties. He always manages to do it for you every time.

“But baby…there’s staff right outside this room.” you tease with a whine of your own, looking up at him with big eyes, toying with his shirt— you know how the innocent look gets him.

“I don’t care.”

That’s the snap, his voice uncharacteristically low and hoarse. You can’t even get a word in before he has your teeth clash with how fast he props you up around his waist, your back slamming against the door, breathing heavily with his lips on yours, sloppy, fast, quick as he pulls out his cock. It’s still intimidating how big it is, but you don’t even get to think for any longer before he has your panties bunched to the side and the tip of his dick’s protruding your hole.

He doesn’t wait like he usually does, he doesn’t even wait to catch his own breath, biting down on your bottom, languidly bottoming out in one go. You squirm at how full you feel despite how easy it went in, oxygen feeling like a second priority now. “God, fuck, you’re made for me.” he breathes out in awe staring at where you connect, “You take me so well now, look at your pussy baby” he babbles against your lips.

You can’t. You can’t. Your eyes burn with tears, you have no clue whats gotten into you, you could only think of the pleasure and pain of the stretch as he finally moves, thrusting up, his speed getting erratically faster by the second, until you have him buried in your tits, licking and kissing all over them like a dumb dog. Then you hear his muffled groan, and know.

“Binnie…?” you chuckle hoarsely.

“Sorry…” he whines, hiding in your boobs. “You teased me too much up there.” Jesus christ why do you still find him so adorable despite him cumming embarrassingly fast today. Its okay, you’ll have your way with him when you actually get back home later.

#🌷. rana thoughts #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin smut #sub!idol #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

[wlntrsldler]

I keep imagining the first time Luke and Mr. D met after Luke's hickeys/scratches went viral

LMFAOOOOO ANON THIS IS SENDING ME

here is how i think that conversation played out (suggestive content ahead):

"shit, five star, your dad is calling me," luke mumbled, eyes wide as he looked down at his phone. "he never calls me."

connor snicked from his bunk in the tour bus, "well, given that the whole internet is talking about you right now after the show you gave them last night, i'm not surprised."

"ha!" travis exclaimed, sitting up on his bed. "put it on speaker. i wanna hear him yell at you."

you rolled your eyes, "he's not gonna yell at you."

luke turned to you with hopeful eyes, "you think so?"

"well, he's probably not gonna yell at you," you scrunched your face up, rethinking your words, "like 55% chance he won't yell at you."

"i don't like those odds, babe."

"answer the fucking phone, luke."

luke clicked the green button on his screen, chewing on the nail of his thumb. he rolled his eyes, pressing the speaker button as travis kept egging him on. chris and clarisse opened the privacy curtain of chris' bunk to listen in on the drama.

"hey, mr. d," luke cleared his throat, ignoring the quiet giggles from the boys when his voice cracked. "what's up?"

"is my daughter with you?"

"say no," you whispered. so you were wrong about the odds. your dad was 100% about to yell at luke and you selfishly didn't want to get your ass handed to you just yet. you were going to avoid your dad's calls for as long as possible.

"uhh... no?"

"oh jesus fucking christ," you sighed, smacking your palm against your forehead, "that was soooo convincing."

you heard your dad type on his laptop before shutting it. there was some background noise that subsided after you heard the shut of a door. it seemed like your dad went into his office to get some privacy.

"hey, kid," your dad said, no doubt addressing you now.

"hey, dad," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, leaning down to speak into the mic of luke's phone. "how are you?"

"don't start with me," he said, "would it kill you both to not do whatever it is you do that results in those pictures? pictures that are all over the internet by the way!"

a snide remark was on the tip of luke's tongue, because yes, it would kill him to not do the things that resulted in the pink marks on his neck and the healing scratches on his back, but that didn't seem like the right response.

"dad, you never had an issue with them taking their shirts off during shows before. and luke has gone out on stage like that before."

luke cringed, remembering one too many instances where he'd gone out on stage with hickeys all over his neck. it felt like a lifetime ago now, as if ever since you walked into his life that past version of him was someone he didn't recognize anymore. he much preferred remembering the name of the girl who left him marked up, especially preferring that it was only you who did that to him.

"that was before he started dating my daughter!" he replied, "i don't want to know anything about your relationship, but i'm in an unfortunate situation where i happen to manage the career of your boyfriend's band so i have to deal with it sometimes. so for the love of god, please please, stop."

"i'm so sorry mr. d," luke mumbled, "i completely forgot about them and by the time i realized, it was too late."

you could practically see your dad pulling at his hair, a habit he had when he was in stressful or awkward situations. he didn't speak for a good thirty seconds and then he sighed, "just keep your goddamn shirt on."

luke gulped, "got it."

when your dad ended the call, the entire bus erupted in laughter, including you. luke's face was as red as a tomato as he groaned and buried his head in his pillow. your shoulders shook as you giggled, laying on top of him. he instantly turned his body to wrap his arms around you.

"that wasn't so bad," you cooed, running your fingers through his curls, "and that was a shit apology, baby. you were smug as hell on stage when people pointed out the scratches."

"i wasn't thinking of the consequences of my actions," he said, "i was caught up watching people connect the dots that my girlfriend is not only hot but a fucking animal in be--"

"okay, that's our cue," travis cut off, closing his curtain. connor followed his head, popping in his airpods. clarisse sent you a wink before she disappeared behind the curtain with chris.

"i'll stop leaving hickeys on you," you kissed his face, enjoying how flustered he got. "but i can't promise too much on the scratches."

"i'm gonna stop taking my shirt off at shows, i think," he mused, toying with the hem of the shirt you wore. "i don't think i can take another surprise call from your dad. i think it took years off my life."

"your fans will be highly disappointed," you teased, leaning over to his ear, "but if you're gonna keep your shirt on, does that mean hickeys on your abs is fair game?"

luke licked his lips, tugging on his own curtain to give you two some privacy, "absolutely."

#frances replies #poisoned mercury chats #luke castellan x reader

[zep-zep-blog]

If I had a nickel for each time I made a oneshot based off a prompt from @timeslugarts I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice.🧍🏼‍♂️

Vox x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Cw: Talk of sex, mentions of feeling not good enough

The last red rose🌹

Reader feels like Vox is ashamed or embarrassed by their relationship and a drunk Valentino only solidifies those thoughts.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

You were Vox's prized diamond, a rose surrounded by thorns, the last unicorn in his eyes. You were kind, thoughtful, funny, tons of stuff the average sinner wasn't. He went to several lengths to make sure your beauty was safe and protected from the several news channels and overlords that were looking in. Unfortunately, his actions came off as him being ashamed of your relationship with you. It made you feel like you would never be enough to be seen with him in public.

Valentino had made another borderline porn film and Vox chose to go to the red carpet premiere with Velvette to support his friend and fellow overlord. You sat in your shared bed, wanting to stay in and not watch the smutty movie Val produced. The silk sheets rubbed comfortably against your skin as you settled into a more comfy position. Watching as the camera panned over other famous demons, hellborn, and overlords. The camera then focuses on Vox, bringing a subconscious smile to your face as you see him answer questions and look into the camera.

"Are you seeing anyone?" The journalist asks, shoving the mic into his face. Before he could answer a drunk Valentino takes it and giggles, "We are like rabbits." This made you sit up, shocked as he went on and on about different bedroom acts. This felt like a red, hot iron strike your heart. How dare he just let him speak like that when he knows you're watching. All for an image to sinners that he said were less important, less worthy of his time, less worthy of him.

His laugh was what broke you, that nonchalant chuckle he made when he tried to escape awkward situations. Warm tears started to roll, muffled sobs escaping your mouth as you covered it with your hand. You were angry. The man you loved, cherished, and planned on marrying one day just betrayed you after his actions made you think you were nothing more than some toy he could play house with.

When he comes home he's shit-faced drunk, removing his jacket and throwing it to the floor, expecting to cuddle with you. Unfortunately, he was only met with a cold bed and messy sheets, a clear sign you were here, but you were nowhere to be seen. This sobered him up a bit, he did everything to protect you, but he failed. That is until he found the note, at first he thought it was a ransom note or something, but it was your handwriting. He read the scribbled ink;

'I went somewhere else. As I know you're probably embarrassed by me, so I hope you're happy with Valentino'

This shook him to his core, he tried everything to keep you out of the public eye for your safety only to be the reason you left. He crumpled the note, cursing under his breath. He did this and now he has to fix it. He collected all the photos he had and wrote a script up for his nightly talk show.

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He addressed the journalist's question and Valentino's response. Stating that his relationship with Val was only friendly and platonic and that he was very much in love with someone else. Pictures of your first date, birthdays, holidays, even one of Vox sleeping faded in and out slowly on the screen as he talked about his genuine feelings and how he felt about your relationship, and his reasons to keep you hidden.

He talked about how your nose scrunched when you giggled and how you held his hand when you felt nervous.

"I fucked up. I tried so hard to keep you out of the camera that I pushed you away. I know words can't fix actions, but please come back to me so I can make things up to you. Please." He said while looking directly into the camera.

This was broadcasted all over hell, even on the radio in hopes you would hear it and hear it you did. You had went to Charlie for advice and help, sobbing on her couch when the broadcast came on. You were touched, hell genuinely thinking about fully forgiving him, but a small part of you was still angry. It took you to leave for him to wake up to address the rumors of his and Val's relationship that spread months ago and finally speak the truth about your role in his life. You ultimately decided to go back, apologizing for leaving. "Darling, don't apologize. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. I made you feel like nothing, but you're everything to me." He stated, hugging you tightly when you walked into his office.

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Cameras clicked as the limo rolled up, shouts of questions and excitement started up as the door opened and Vox got out, giving the cameras his signature smile before turning back and holding out his hand towards you. You grab his hand nervously, stepping out and giving a shy smile to the crowd. Finally, you both felt like you were his only thought.

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Carpal tunnel core <3 /j Hope yall enjoy (^^)

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