#But he DID just invite us to a concert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purple-obsidian · 11 months ago

Text

appearances (18+, dick grayson x fem reader) wc 6.7k

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors. special shoutout to @janybabyy for helping me edit this monstrosity. reader is a member of the titans, afab, uses she/her pronouns, and has an established friendship with dick.

Dick's arm is draped around your waist, holding your body close while his enchanting laughter rings in your ear, reacting to a story being told by the other couple sharing the elevator.

"I'm telling the truth! Swear on my life, he actually said that!" The man across from you says, grinning and chuckling. A soft ding grabs your attention, and you clear your throat, looking up at Dick with a soft smile.

"Well, this is our floor. We'll see you in the morning!" You promise, letting Dick pick up your suitcase for you and lead the way. You make your way down the hallway, reading the room numbers as you get closer to the one the receptionist scribbled on your key card. You feel exhausted, and after a long day of pretending to be a happy couple with your teammate, you're happy that it's finally time to rest. You retrieve the room key from your pocket when you finally reach your door, and open it wide for Dick so he can carry your bags in.

You flick the light switch on, taking in the cheap carpeting, generic artwork, and a single queen bed centered on the far wall. "Um... Dick?"

"Hm?" He turns to you, looking just as tired as you feel, no longer fronting as an excited newly-wed. "What is it?"

"Didn't you request a room with two beds?"

His bright blue eyes dart to the singular bed, shoulders slumping in defeat when he realizes there was a mix up in your reservation. "Shit. Lemme call the front desk."

"They're probably full," you comment, letting yourself fall into one of the chairs by the window, sinking down with a tired sigh and kicking off your heels, "Between the convention and the concert this weekend, I'll be shocked if they have any other rooms free."

Dick ignores you, setting down your luggage and walking over to the corded phone on the bedside table. He picks up the receiver, punches the button for guest services, and waits patiently for them to answer. You take a deep breath, relaxing and letting your mind wander as he speaks with the operator, who confirms that there are no more rooms available.

Dick hangs up the phone with a grumble, glancing behind him to look at you.

"Told you so." You chide, a playful grin on your lips.

"I'm sorry," Dick plops himself down on the side of the bed and groans. "There isn't even a pull-out couch."

"We'll be fine," You tell him dismissively, yawning and stretching your hands over your head, "It's only a few nights."

"I can sleep on the floor if you'd be more comfortable that way," He offers, rubbing his eyes.

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we'll be fine."

The first night you share a bed, Dick does keep his hands to himself. You're both so exhausted that you fall into a deep sleep almost immediately, making your proximity less awkward. You toss and turn here and there, but otherwise, the night goes on without issue.

The second night is another story.

After another long day of working undercover as newlyweds attending a couples conference, you and Dick are at each other's throats over a disagreement regarding the innocence of the man leading it. You both act your part all day. You kiss his cheek when others are looking. Dick makes an pointed effort to be handsy, ensuring he's touching you in some way whenever appropriate. But once you're in the privacy of the hotel room, the masks come down, and you are at each other's throats, arguing in hushed tones and bickering over what you observed today.

"Why the fuck did you invite me along on this mission if you didn't want my opinion?" You ask harshly, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace as you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to remove it so you can shower.

"I couldn't have come alone! It would have been suspicious, and Donna was busy, so you were my only option!"

"Gee, thanks Dick. That makes me feel real good about myself." You hiss, fumbling again with the tiny clasp, "Why couldn't you bring Wally?"

"You know our suspect is homophobic, if I showed up with a man as my partner there's no way I'd be able to get close enough to him!" Dick notices you struggling with your necklace. He sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Need some help with that?"

"Fuck off," You mumble dismissively, giving up your efforts, "Screw it, I'll just leave it on."

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, throwing it angrily to the ground. Dick watches, eyes widening a little, unable to stop himself from checking you out and admiring the lacy bra you're wearing, his anger diffusing.

"You mind? I need to shower, give me some privacy," You snap, waving your hand at him dismissively.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Dick growls, coming up behind you, sandwiching your body between him and the vanity, “Hold still.”

You huff, but relax and accept his help remove the chain. His hands are warm against your neck, quickly unclasping the lock and setting the necklace down next to you. You choose to ignore the way his eyes wander, admiring your reflection in the mirror.

“Thanks,” You grumble, your annoyance quickly subsiding, but you keep your eyes narrowed at him.

Maybe you are a bit stubborn.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up, okay? I gotta shower too,” He reminds you before leaving the bathrrom, stealing one last glance at your half naked body and closing the door behind him.

Feeling bitter, you take your time with an extra long, extra hot shower, shaving your legs, exfoliating, deep conditioning your hair, not caring if you’re being petty. You linger, too, lotioning your whole body and applying your hair products, not missing a single step in your routine.

When you finally exit the steamy bathroom, Dick is sitting at the small desk in your room, doing something on his laptop. You walk out in your robe, smoothing your freshly washed hair and making your way over to your suitcase.

“Took you long enough,” Dick comments, giving you a pointed side-eye.

“Sorry,” You mumble, rummaging around for your sleep clothes, “All yours now.”

Waiting until he finishes up and locks himself in the bathroom, you quickly change and crawl into your side of the bed, cozying up to the pillow that smells faintly of bleach. You relax, listening to the muffled sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He's quick enough that you're still awake when he's done. Dick exits the bathroom, hair dripping wet, wearing nothing but his boxers.

"You used all the hot water."

You peek an eye open to glare at him, resenting his accusation, "It's a hotel, Dick. It's going to take a lot more than my twenty minute shower to make the whole building run out of hot water. Maybe you just don't know how to work the faucet."

You notice him shivering, and a pang of guilt eats away at you. But you stand by what you said.

"You took at least 30 minutes. And are you kidding me? You think I'm the type of guy that can't figure out a faucet?"

"Well, no, before this little trip of ours, I didn't think that. But seeing as you can't figure out our guy is guilty when the evidence is laid out in front of you like Thanksgiving dinner, my opinion on your intelligence might be changing."

He grinds his teeth, popping his jaw and clenching his fists at his side until his knuckles crack, "Shoulda brought Wally."

You lift your head so you can glare at him with both eyes, but Dick is already grabbing the comforter and sheet to yank them off the bed, leaving you shivering and exposed.

"Whatthefuck?!" You shriek, pulling your knees to your chest reflexively at the rush of cold air.

Dick jumps onto the bed, pulling the blankets over both of you, and with little effort he pulls your body against his, "I'm fucking freezing." He hisses through gritted teeth, "And I'm about to make it your problem.”

The chill radiating off of his stone-cold chest and body quickly seeps through the thin cotton of your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Flinching, you shiver and claw at the edge of the bed to pull yourself away from him. "Dick! G-Get off of me! This isn't f-funny!" You stammer in desperation.

"No, it isn't."

You long for the satisfaction of smacking the smirk off of him. You can't even see his face since your back is to him, but when you hear his taunting, you just know the cocky bastard is smiling. His strong, cold arms force your back to go flush with his chest again as he wrestles with you, utilizing his jiu-jitsu skills to pin you under him and prevent you from escaping his grasp.

"GET. OFF!!" You yell again.

Dick promptly slaps his right hand over your mouth, bringing his lips to your ear and shushing you. "Remember, we're in a hotel. People could hear you if you screamed. Last thing we need to do is blow our cover."

You groan and struggle to shake your head free of his hand, which is fruitless, but Dick takes pity on you and removes his hand after watching you struggle for a moment.

"This is assault, you know," You growl at him angrily, "You're h-holding me against my will."

"Oh please, I've done worse to you during training. You're fine. Just let me hold you for a minute until I can warm up. You owe me that much," Dick holds you closer to him, and he isn't lying, He really is as cold as an ice cube. Keeping you pinned against the bed, he holds you, fearful that you'll shy away and refuse to share your body heat. But you know when you're beat. The soft spot you have for him trumps your annoyance, and you accept your fate.

You really didn't mean to make him suffer, you just took a tad longer washing yourself than normal. Could it really be your fault that there was no hot water? You take these next few minutes of discomfort to ponder the specifics of hotel plumbing, doing anything to distract yourself from the chill.

Dick notices the subtle shift as you try to relax your body and regulate your breathing. There's something in the way you feel, your body going from tense and combative to calm and still under him, that makes his heartbeat stay elevated, even after he finally starts to warm up.

'She trusts me.' He thinks to himself, 'Or at least, she knows when to give up.'

Several minutes pass by, neither of you asleep, but not speaking. Only the sounds of your breathing are audible in the stillness of the hotel room. Dick starts to feel guilty, now that his body temperature is back to normal, and lifts himself off of you to lay on his back.

"I'm sorry," He says quietly, brows furrowed in thought, "I shouldn't have done that."

Now it's your turn to seek body heat. You let out an involuntary whimper, so soft that you're hoping Dick didn't hear it. "Wait," Your hand finds his chest in the dark, and you pull yourself up so your head is laying directly over his heart, "You might be all warmed up, but I'm still cold."

Your feet, which weren't touching him before, are particularly chilly, so you take this opportunity to press them against his bare leg. Dick tenses in response, but he doesn't push you off of him.

"I deserve this," He whispers in a tone of defeat.

"You're so dramatic," You whisper back.

"And you're more stubborn than the Bat."

"Ouch."

"Am I wrong?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Exactly," He says with a hint of pride.

"Just shut up and warm up, I'm tired," You try to sound firm, but despite your best efforts, your voice sounds sleepy and content.

"You know, maybe I should keep a hold of you all night, to stop you from tossing and turning."

"M'not that bad," You grumble, "You'll survive."

But you soon fall asleep on his chest. Your breathing gets slower and deeper, and you finally relax into a pleasant slumber. Dick isn't far behind you. He is scared to admit to himself how good it feels to have you in his arms. He chalks it up to the fact that he's been pretending to be your husband since you got here, denying anything deeper, and lets his mind shut down and rest, falling asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.

Several hours later, you wake with a start, eyes popping open as you suck in a deep breath. You were having a bizarre dream, but thankfully your less-than-graceful awakening hasn’t seemed to of bothered your teammate, who you realize has shifted in the night. He’s now spooning you, his arm around your waist and his face nuzzled against your neck.

A heat creeps into your cheeks as you hazily register the intimacy of the position you’re in. You carefully attempt to untangle yourself from him, but you quickly realize your arm is asleep, and you curse to yourself as the uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation prickle your nerves.

You wiggle your arm, the blood flow slowly returning, not noticing how your movement is making your ass bump against the man behind you.

Dick’s eyes flutter open, awakened by the soft swaying of your body as you struggle to get your arm functioning like normal. He mutters your name groggily, and you curse yourself for waking him.

"Sorry, Dick. I'm warm now, you can let go of me," You say softly.

In his half-asleep state, Dick exhales an audible groan, moving his arm so he can stretch out. You think you're free, but he quickly replaces it back over your waist before he pulls you snug against his body. "Could we stay like this? Feels nice." His voice is hoarse and gravely from sleep, which triggers a dangerous shift in your thoughts. His strong arms feel good wrapped around you. He smells good. You're comfortable, now that your arm is awake, and you notice something poking at your lower back when he pulls you even closer to him.

The heat you felt in your cheeks travels down to pool in your belly, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache you feel.

'Stop it. This won't end well. He's hot, but he's your friend. Just your friend...'

You capture your lip between your bottom teeth and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, we can stay like this," You finally say, "But you need to tell your little friend to calm down."

"Hm?" Dick perks up at your comment, trying to make sense of what you said while his brain is still not fully awake.

"You're hard. It's distracting."

"Woah, hey. Who are you calling little? That's a low blow, you wouldn't even have any way of knowing that."

"I can feel you right now Dick. S'gross. We can cuddle if you want but I don't want your hard-on stabbing me while-"

"This feel little to you?" He interrupts, shifting you higher so he can grind his boner against your ass, with only his boxers and your silky sleep shorts separating you.

It doesn't. Now that he's doing it intentionally, you realize how much he's packing down there, which makes you stammer a little as you squirm against him, trying to quell the arousal building in your abdomen. "Jeez- okay, point taken. Now quit it," You chide, hoping you sound firm.

"Sure you want me to quit?" He's fully awake now. You can tell by the confidence in his tone when he taunts you, "Something tells me you're enjoying this. I've seen the way you've been looking at me."

His lips are merely an inch from your ear as he whispers to you, making your heart beat faster in your chest and your brain starts to panic. "Of course I've been looking at you differently. We're pretending to be a couple. We're undercover. It's called acting."

"Can I tell you a secret?" His hand starts to play with the hem of your shirt, rough hands barely brushing the small bit of exposed skin as the fabric bunches up on your waist.

"W-what?" You ask, briefly wondering if you're dreaming.

"Donna wasn't busy," He murmurs, running the tip of his nose up and down your neck slowly as he tries to entice you. "I wanted you here with me."

"That's a lie," You chide back without much thought. You know Dick and Donna are best friends, there's no way he would choose you over her for a mission like this, right?

Right?

He ignores your accusation like he didn't hear it. "You really want me to stop?" Dick presses his hand against your stomach, caressing your soft skin and nudging his nose against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll let you have the bed to yourself."

"I... I mean...y-you don't need to, I don't want... don't sleep on the floor, please."

"Because you like this? Don't you?" His hand sneaks further up your torso, until his fingertips brush against the underside of your breast. "Don't tell me these past few days haven't felt right to you. I barely feel like I've had to act."

"Are you kidding? We've been bickering every moment we're alone!" You argue back. You're grateful for the dark, which hides how wide your eyes are from how he's touching you.

"Don't mean about the mission. I meant you and me. Having you on my arm. Calling you mine. The way you kiss me- I wish you'd kiss me like that when we're alone, instead of fighting," He admits, tentatively grinding his hips into your ass as he speaks. "You looked so pretty in that dress, earlier. That color looks amazing on you."

This is a lot for you to process. Sure, Dick is attractive. You'd be stupid to deny it. But he's your friend, has been for a while. You work together, and you've tried to not let your mind go down that path, not wanting to mess up the opportunity of a lifetime, to be a hero and work alongside him and the other Titans. But when he talks about how right these past couple days have felt, you have a hard time denying it. Yeah, you were acting, but it did come easy. His smile is heart-warming. His touch feels safe. And having him wait on you hand and foot has made you feel pretty special, even if you were under the impression that it was all performative.

Dick pauses his movements when you take a while to respond to him, second-guessing himself. He says your name softly, before asking, "Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?"

The answer is no.

So why is it so hard to say out loud?

Nervous, Dick shifts away from you and retracts his hand, guiding you onto your back so he can see you properly. The look of uncertainty on him is rare. The man's confidence is nearly impenetrable, but now he's got a sinking feeling in his stomach, worried that he just crossed a line that you didn't want him to cross.

"Dick..." You mutter, shifting around to help him so you're face-to-face. His features are barely visible, illuminated only by the soft red glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. But you don't need the light to see him. His face is permanently etched into your mind, handsome and chiseled, your brain filling in the gaps left by the darkness.

You're running out of time. You can make out his expression fall, sense the change in energy each moment you leave him hanging. Deciding to take the future implications out of the picture, like how it will affect your dynamic on the team, how awkward this might make things in the future- you ignore all of that, and ask yourself, 'Do I want to sleep with him? Right Now? In this moment?'

The vigilante's confidence returns when you finally lean in to capture his mouth in a kiss. You bump your nose against his, and he chuckles, relieved as his hand finds your cheek to guide your mouth to his again.

The feeling is surreal, kissing him. You feel like you knew him pretty well before this trip. You know how he likes his tea. You know his favorite places, and understand his subtle, snarky humor. You're even familiar with his scent, after many missions and even more training sessions, physical contact is not anything new between the two of you.

His taste is new. His lips are foreign, but gentle, skilled, like he knows exactly what he's doing when his kisses you, relishing in the feeling, slow and sensual as his tongue slides across your bottom lip, teasing you until your part your lips and allow him deeper. Dick pulls you on top of him, relaxing on his back, his hands holding you by the waist, itching to trail lower and grip your plush ass that's been teasing him all night.

The needy almost-moan that escapes his throat as he exhales is new, too. You've heard him express pain and discomfort, you know what sounds he makes when he's hurt, recognize his brash grunts while fighting, able to judge how badly he's hurt by the sounds he makes. But the noises he's making now aren't like those. They seem more raw, more intense, and he's doing a good job of making you swoon.

His taste, his noises, being the object of his desire, this is all new territory. The surreal feeling doesn't go away, even as his kisses get more intense and his hands start to wander. You're straddling him, forearms resting against his chest while you two make out. He laps at your mouth, tongue against yours, encouraged by every little sigh and broken whimper that you make.

You're grateful for the darkness. It helps quell your insecurities, and you push the doubts about your decision far away. With your hands against his bare chest, you're able to feel his heart beat, strong and even, solidifying the feeling of closeness between you.

"You're so soft," He whispers between greedy kisses. His fingertips caress the exposed skin of your lower back, becoming increasingly more annoyed by the clothing that's keeping your skin from him.

A brief feeling of guilt plagues your mind, knowing your skin is extra soft because of the long shower you took earlier, with the goal of annoying him. Who knew that taking the time to exfoliate and use lotion would end up doing the opposite, spurring him on, making your skin that much more enticing.

You sink your hips down, rubbing yourself against the tent in his boxers. "You're so hard." You say back to him. You meant to sound teasing, but his all-encompassing kisses have you breathless and panting.

Dick chuckles at you, also breathless, finally letting his hands grip the silky material of your sleep shorts, squeezing and massaging your ass. You push yourself up a bit to look down at him. The red numbers of the alarm clock cast an eerie glow over the side of his face, the other half dark in shadow. But you still detect the obvious lust in his gaze. He squeezes you, grabby hands slipping under your shorts to feel you better and force your clothed cunt to grind against his throbbing erection.

"You have no idea how hot you are," He blurts out, bucking his hips up to drive the point home. "You in that dress this morning, fuck, if you were mine for real... I wouldn't have let you leave this room before fucking you senseless in it."

His low, urgent tone, gravely and strained, sends a jolt of heat to your cunt, your arousal soaking through your underwear. Hearing him, Dick Grayson, NIghtwing, say such things about you? And you can tell he means it. He's a good liar, but you know him well enough by know to tell he's being sincere. You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but he's already rambling on, hands traveling from your ass back up to your waist, easing your shirt up and over your head, careful not to mess up your hair.

"The neckline is what did it, I think," he continues. His pupils dilate when he drinks you in, straining to see as much of you as possible. You're sitting up now, shuddering when his warm hands cup your breasts, handling them like you're made of glass. "I couldn't stop staring. I wasn't the only one, either."

"Dick-"

"I've been thinking about this ever since. All evening. Been going crazy." His thumbs brush over your nipples, which are already hard from the arousal you feel building inside. "Got me all worked up. Like a teenager with a crush."

You bring your hands to his, resting over them as he fondles your chest. The gentle squeeze you offer encourages him to keep going, moving your hips to rub against him, searching for some friction to satisfy your need.

"I doubt the dress did all that," You challenge.

"Yet here we are."

"You pleased with yourself?" You yelp as soon as the question leaves your mouth. Dick chose that moment to pinch your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer fingers, squeezing and toying with them, moving his hips against you when your grinding falters.

"Yeah, I am."

Dick removes his hands from your chest to pull you flush against him, grabbing your left leg to help flip you over so you're on your back, settling on his knees between your legs. This shift in control has your mind racing, still wondering if this is all just a dream. If it is, you aren't ready to wake up.

Dick's sitting straight up, smirking down at you, reaching for your ankle. He guides your leg up so your foot is next to his head, and places a slow, wet kiss against your ankle bone.

"Let's get these off of you." He takes your other leg, lifting it in the same manner, so he's able to remove your shorts. You raise your hips to help, allowing him to take your remaining clothes off and toss them to the other end of the bed. He kisses the same spot on your other ankle and rests your legs on either side of his head while his strong hands caress your calves. It almost feels like he's showing you a new martial arts technique, the way he moves and is so at ease manipulating your body. You're used to it, to humbling yourself around him and letting him share his skills, never too proud to learn from a friend and mentor. You swear you've actually been in a very similar position with him before, too, just with more clothing. And also, several spectators.

His warm, fervent kisses continue down towards your knee, slowly savoring every inch of skin he can reach, and adjusting his position once he cannot. Your chest rises and falls quickly in anticipation, nervous but excited to see this new side of him.

This isn't something you were expecting to happen this trip.

You stifle a needy moan when he reaches your inner thighs. Muscular body now flush against the bed, he licks at the sensitive skin there, just inches from your pussy that's dripping for him, aching for attention.

"H-Holy shit..." You curse, moving your hips to try and get his mouth closer to where you need him most. If him kissing your leg feels this sensuous, you're weak over the idea of having his mouth on your core.

Dick hums in satisfaction at how worked up you're getting. Peeling his lips away from the soft skin of your thigh, he purses his lips into a small 'o' to blow a breath over your slick, feverish skin.

You're mortified at the loud whine that departs your lips, shivering in both chill and embarrassment. Your legs tense, squeezing together reflexively around his head.

Dick mutters your name, cursing under his breath at your reaction. He carefully pries your legs apart again, holding them in place, kissing your inner thigh again.

"Huh. You liked that?"

"Please, Dick, you're teasing me."

You feel his lips curve into a smile against you, leaving your thigh and licking a slow, long stripe along your pussy, catching some of your slick on his tongue. Your breathing hitches, eyes closing again, moaning his name with your hands on either side of your head gripping the pillow.

The tip of his nose nudges against your clit before he kisses you there, the same way he was kissing your mouth a minute earlier. Slow at first, building up to using more tongue, testing different movements until he feels your legs quiver. The heat you felt before has grown to a roaring fire, your lower body sensitized from his attention and aching for more.

His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub over and over in a steady rhythm. It becomes harder and harder not to wiggle against him. He's still keeping you in place, but his grip isn't harsh, at least not until he finds just the right angle. Your hips jerk almost violently when he presses his skilled tongue harder against your core, your hands flying to his head to grip his hair. "Oh fuck... please... shit shit sh....." You tremble, words fading away to nothing while your teammate keeps eating your cunt like its his favorite dessert.

Muffled hums and moans are mingled with your sighs and gasps. His tongue dips down to lap languidly at your entrance. You feel painfully empty at this point, ignoring the bewilderment you feel deep down about how easily Dick has reduced you to a whining mess. Fingernails scratching his scalp, your inner muscles convulse and tense, nerves alive with every touch and heated kiss.

Dick is a curious guy. He always has been. It's what makes him such a good detective, and an even better hero. And right now? He's curious about you, making a mental note of what noises and gasps he can coax from you when he moves his tongue faster or slower. He experiments with quick, feather light licks to tease you, then uses more pressure, rubbing his tongue flat against your soft skin and moving in circles, noting your reactions to each technique. His saliva drips from his mouth to mix with your slick, which he greedily licks back up, no shame in his enthusiasm.

After several torturous minutes of him working you, he's got your legs quivering and your mind fuzzy, your pride long forgotten, unable to resist the urge to plead for more.

"Please?" You beg him, "I just want... fuck, please, Dick, I need it."

His hands grip you tight for a beat before he releases you. "I need you too, baby, fuck, feel how wet you are." You offer no resistance when his hand takes yours and places it between your legs. "Touch yourself, yeah... there you go... play with that pretty pussy for me, hm?" His deep voice vibrates in your head, sending a fresh rush of lust through your veins.

Pushing himself up, Dick reaches over you towards the bedside table to retrieve the goodie bag that the front desk was handing out for the couples retreat.

"Glad we can actually put this stuff to use," He mumbles, face better illuminated now that he's next to the alarm clock. He retrieves a condom and a single-use lube sample from the deep red gift bag, and you groan in embarrassment again.

"Shhh, hey, just keep touching yourself. It's fine, unless you brought other condoms?" He asks, already guessing your answer.

"Why would I bring condoms? I wasn't expecting this to happen," You reply, watching him rip the foil wrapper.

"Huh. Me either." He slips his boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. You squint, trying to see the outline of his junk in the dark. He looks big. Big enough that when he slides the rubber over his shaft, it only makes it about 3/4th of the way down.

"It's kind of tight," He informs you, now opening up the lube sample and working the viscous liquid over himself. "But I'm pretty good about making big things fit in tight spaces."

The grin on your face is instant, cringing at his joke and shaking your head. "Would you shut up and fuck me, already?"

"Gods, yes."

His reply sounds pained, filled with longing, enough that you briefly question how long he's wanted this. You want to ask, but Dick is a man of his word, and before you can utter your question out loud, his hands are pressing your legs against your chest, knees over his shoulders, positioning you so he can slap his heavy cock against your clit.

Rubbing his tip against your wet folds of skin, you angle your hips a little better and guide him inside. Your slick heat swallows him up greedily, his cock bottoming out in one swift thrust.

You cry out at the sudden sting of him stretching your aching cunt. Hands gripping the sheets to ground yourself, your eyes water and your mouth hangs open, the feeling enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than him and how he's making you feel.

He offers a brief kiss to your whimpering lips, "Shhhh, I know, babe, I know, feels good... fuck... feels too good.”

Nestling closer to you, Dick settles so he has access to your neck. His hips are still, giving your body time to adjust from the abrupt intrusion. His warm breath tickles your ear between the sweet love pecks he presses into your skin. “You know, if we really wanna sell ourselves as a couple, maybe I should give you some hickies, mark up that pretty neck of yours.”

The muscles in the back of your legs burn from the stretch. The position you’re in doesn’t accommodate deep breathing, so your voice is weak when you warn him, “Can we not talk about work right now?”

“Right. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re pissed at me again.” He latches his lips onto your neck, withdrawing himself from you halfway before easing back in, slower this time, pausing again once he's fully buried.

"H-h-how... mm...d-dude, you're huge," You gasp, feeling his tip kiss your cervix, pushing your body to its limit.

Dick tenses, his solid body going rigid. His next statement seem imbued with an undertone of challenge, "Don't call me dude while I'm inside of you."

"Sorry I- shiiiit...." you lose your words when he starts moving again, pumping into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours while he sucks on your neck, leaving your skin damp with his saliva. Finding them again takes a minute. "M'sorry I didn't c-come up with a list... I mean, why would I be prompted...to... write out the things that are... are off limits when we're fucking?"

The words are forgotten as soon as you say it. His memorizing pace has you feeling alive with warm tingles, concentrated most where your bodies meet. You clench down on his thick cock, more arousal dripping out around him. You can feel your body release more wetness again, doing its best to accept what's being given as his soft raven hair tickles your cheek.

"We can make that list together, babe." His promise is murmured against your throat, "Maybe during our one-on-one counseling session tomorrow with the alleged con artist himself."

"W-wh...huh? What, oh... mmmm.... fuck, Dick.... what list?" You flex your feet and curl your toes, babbling and whimpering at him. You can't move much with how he's pinning you, completely at his mercy. Even though you've never slept together before now, you have complete trust in him, having put your life in his hands more times than you can count. Nightwing has never failed you as a teammate. And Dick certainly has never failed you as a friend. So even now, as he ruts himself into you with purpose, pushing your body to its brink, leaving dark bruises over your neck, you know he doesn't plan to fail you as a lover. If only for one night.

The speculation on whether this heated exchange will be a one-time thing or the start of something more is a worry for later on, not for right now. Right now, this god-like man is fucking himself into you harder and deeper, being much less gentle than how he handled you earlier.

"Feels s'good, tight little pussy is squeezing me, bet you haven't been fucked this good before," He rasps, giving your tender neck a break and resting his forehead against yours while he flexes and undulates, putting his abs, back, entire body into it, hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn't think were even there.

Your cries of pleasure get louder as the minutes pass. Keeping his pace steady, Dick moves his hand over your mouth for the second time this evening to muffle your desperate please for release.. "Shhhh... remember what I said," He taunts, "We can't blow our cover. People come to retreats like this because their marriage is failing. No one here is having sex as good as this."

If you were more aware, you'd point out to him that he just went against his whole justification for giving you love marks. But he might as well be speaking an alien language. The deep timbre of his words do, however, send a chill down your spine, pushing you over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you hard.

Your eyes water even more and blur your already limited vision. Convulsing under the weight of him, you gasp against his palm, tasting yourself, eyes wide in the glow of the dim red light.

"That's it.... shii-iii-iit..." His body stills, and he closes his eyes, struggling desperately to stay off his own orgasm. You welcome the break, pleasure still pulsing in your core, flexing and wiggling your legs to alleviate the stiffness from the prolonged time in such an intense position you aren't used to.

Dick moans your name and shudders, "I need more."

"M-more?" You stutter, intoxicated from the post-orgasm haze.

Pushing himself up and off of you, he sits back on his knees again, cock slipping from your swollen cunt. Dick graciously lowers your legs, guiding them around his waist before leaning over you again, carefully slipping his arms under yours against your back to cradle you closer to him. You cling to him with trembling limbs, letting him move you how he sees fit.

"What, you think I was going to stop at one?" He whispers to you, low and eager. He slips his length back inside of you, the lewd squelching noise sounding absolutely filthy, your thighs damp from his sweat and your fluids. "I'm not wasting this opportunity to show you a good time.'"

Your pussy is so sensitive now, every thrust of his hips earning a small pant from you, feeling him fill you up, over and over, making room for himself inside your body with each tantalizing rut of his hips.

You mumble something incoherent, and Dick chuckles, proud to have you in such a state. "What's that, babe? I'm the best you've ever had?" He kisses your forehead, fucking you a little faster, his heavy balls smacking against your ass with each rut.

"This is... just to keep up appearances, right?" You ask, unsure if you want him to agree or not.

Probably not.

Definitely not.

"Of course." Dick promises, knowing full well that he will not be satisfied until he has you creaming around his cock like this every night. Not now. Not after tonight. Being here with you has opened his eyes, and helped him reflect on why he got so intensely jealous when you were turning heads earlier. "It's all for appearances, babe."

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

#[purple-obsidian]#smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut #nightwing x you #dc smut #one bed trope #and they were teammates

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nightingale-prompts · 9 months ago

Text

Ghostlight -DCxDP prompt

Tim only had one mission tonight.

Investigate the abandoned Monarch Theater.

There had been reports of noises inside and lights turning on. The obvious answer is that a rogue is using it as a base and will eventually use it as a stage for an overly complex scheme. Perhaps it was Riddler, two-face, or most likely Joker, but they were all still in Arkham.

The problem was that Monarch Theater was on Red Hood's turf, and he didn't want anyone in the family there. It would have to be someone really stubborn and not afraid to make Jason mad to go there anyway. Fortunately, that was Tum favorite thing to do. As his little brother, that's basically his job.

Tim snuck into the back of the dilapidated theater to a crowded backstage with people scurrying around and preparing for a show.

None of them seemed to notice him as they focused on their tasks. Tim tried to get someone's attention when his hand phased through their shoulder.

Then the woman turned to Tim her eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing back here? Audience members are not allowed before the show. Are you here to drop off flowers or gifts? Please, hand them to an attendant and they will be delivered to the actor you want. You are not allowed to see the prince before the show. We don't want you disrupting his concentration. Please go back to your seat now." She rattled off as she shoved Tim off the stage and into the audience chamber.

There Tim saw a packed room full of....well ghosts. All of them waiting excitedly for the play to begin. But right in the middle was Jason eating popcorn like this was completely normal.

Jason looked up and saw Tim, they both froze.

Then the curtain rose and a silver-haired prince dressed in royal regalia stepped forward with his arms raised. The audience cheered and applauded at the sight of him.

"Welcome, my friends and followers to this week's show of "Walking on Stars". We hope you enjoy our heartwrenching drama tonight. We have two special guests in the box tonight. Martha and Thomas Wayne our dear patrons have joined us this evening. Let me be the first to welcome them tonight." The prince bowed.

Danny knew there was no stopping ghosts from invading the moral realm and a comprise needed to be made. Appeasing them is the easiest way to do it. They needed purpose and entertainment just like they did in life. After asking a few of his people what they wished for and adding some expansions to the realm Danny stared this project.

This abandoned theater in one of the most haunted spaces in Gotham was perfect to keep the spirits happy. Many people don't know this but ghosts loved theater. It is why theaters would sometimes keep two empty seats in the back just for the ghosts to watch and close on sundays and keep a stage light on just for the ghosts to perform for each other. This consideration goes a long way for the spirits and they have a deep appreciation for the arts.

Since then Danny has put on weekly shows of plays, concerts, and talent shows. It even drew the attention of the revenant that uses the area as his haunt. Out of respect, Danny invited him to come and he has his own reserved seat.

Tim ended up sitting next to a miffed Jason as they watched the show.

"Can't I just have something to myself?" Jason grumbled offering Tim his ghost nachos.

Jason didn't know why the food was so good but these ghost nachos were the best he ever had. Tim on the other hand couldn't taste them.

(I made this prompt just to use the phrase ghost nachos.)

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #jason todd #red hood #red robin #tim drake

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5sospenguinqueen · 9 months ago

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Djungelskog | Oscar Piastri x Teacher! Reader

Summary: Summer break means forcing Oscar to help you get your classroom ready in time for upcoming school year.

Fluff. 2024 season. Pinterest pics

Requested: Yes by anon (here)

There's a little blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yn_ln last day of term. last recess, last day of chalk drawings. i’ve had a lovely bunch this year and will miss them loads as they move on. looking forward to a much needed break

681 comments

bestfriend feet on the desk? empty classroom? looks like slacking to me

oscarpiastri can’t wait to spend summer break with you

→ yn_ln it’ll be nice to not have to share you with lando

→ landonorris what makes you think you can get away from me

→ georgerussel63 that sounds like a threat, mate

hattiepiastri does this mean you’ll have time to take me to the babymetal concert? ‘cause mum keeps trying to get out of it

→ yn_ln do i have to learn the all the lyrics?

→ hattiepiastri you’re a teacher, learning is in your blood

→ yn_ln osc, help

→ oscarpiastri no, you chose to befriend her

alexandrasaintmleux omg did the kids do those drawings? 🥹belle

→ yn_ln no, that was lando’s drawing

→ landonorris don’t be silly. i can’t draw that well

teacherfriend i’ll do my best to look after them next year but i know i can’t compete with the fabulous miss ln

nicolepiastri when can we see miss ln turn to mrs piastri?

→ oscarpiastri this is why i don’t come home

→ nicolepiastri no, you don’t come home because yn does your laundry now

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by yn_ln, danielricciardo and others

oscarpiastri first part of the season done. first GP victory. first broken bone. looking forward to a much needed break for the rib

4,811 comments

landonorris omg stop copying your girlfriend’s caption style

→ yn_ln he can’t help it. he’s obsessed with me

→ oscarpiastri true

→ user1 let us innnnn

user2 does a broken bone mean he’ll win the next race

→ yn_ln only if i'm there

charles_leclerc and what have you been doing to break a bone?

→ oscarpiastri helping my girlfriend empty a classroom. there’s a lot of books in there

mclaren enjoy the break. we can’t wait to have you back racing and refreshed

→ user3 he’s literally only just left the mtc, give him a minute of peace

→ yn_ln don’t worry. i’ll be putting them in a time out if they try and take him

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yn_ln just posted

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln my happy place. quick lunch break. dragging my big strong man to carry stuff for me in ikea

814 comments

oscarpiastri before that bear, i was your big strong man :(

→ yn_ln you broke a rib. you’re only so useful. the bear can’t break

→ oscarpiastri it can if i pull it’s head off

→ yn_ln you were a biter, weren’t you?

→ hattiepiastri yes

landonorris why wasn’t i invited

landonorris sushi 🤢

→ yn_ln this is why you weren’t invited

→ landonorris stop trying to push me out

→ oscarpiastri i see you practically 10 months out of the year. she can have me for one afternoon

charles_leclerc oh i love ikea furniture! can i help?

→ yn_ln of course you can. we have snacks as well

→ landonorris blatant favouritism

→ yn_ln yes

danielricciardo omg the djungelskog. when can i meet him?

→ oscarpiastri he’s called skoggie for short

→ nicolepiastri the closest i’ll get to grandkids

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Oscar grinned at the face filling up the front of his phone, sliding the button across to answer it.

“He-”

“Babe, I need more glue.” You exploded, cutting him off before he could even greet you properly. “Oh, and paper.”

“-And I broke the scissors. But the good news is, Lan said he could come and help so could you actually pick up 3 pairs of scissors, please?”

“Sweetheart, breathe.” Oscar reminded you, a soft laugh echoing down the phone. “I’ve literally only been gone for 10 minutes. All we needed was milk. How did you manage to rope Lando into this?”

“Rope? He was practically hanging by the phone waiting for one of us to call. I asked if he could spare a few minutes - just to give you a hand moving the desk - and he was already in the car on his way.”

“At least he’s preparing us for our own children one day,” joked Oscar.

“How have you got paint in your curls? I didn’t ask you to paint because I knew you couldn't be trusted to paint,” the exasperated voice of his girlfriend echoed down the empty school hallways. Light radiated from a singular doorway at the end of the hallway, beckoning him forward.

“Every year, I deal with a class of 30 five year olds, experiencing freedom from their parents for the first time. And yet I feel like I need to watch you more than I do them.”

“But it was just sat on the side, with the lid off!.”

“So you felt the need to somehow stick your entire hand in it?”

Oscar leant against the doorframe, watching affectionately as you used a wet wipe to get the paint off of Lando as best as possible. Despite the curly-haired Brit being old than you, it didn’t stop the caring instinct that came with being a first-year teacher.

One wall was painted a soft lilac whilst the other three had been given fresh coats of white. The chairs and tables had been organised into little groups to help you see each child’s face from the front of the class, and the drawers were freshly stocked with stationery. A little rug and some bean bags were set up in the corner for the story nook, and all that was left to do was start hanging up the wall deco.

“There?”

“Little higher,” you remarked, after faking a contemplative pause.

“Now?”

“Little higher,” you leaned back to really take in the view. “Oh, yeah, that’s good.”

The white t-shirt sat snugly on his strained biceps as he held the board up over his head. The hem rode up as he stretched, revealing a nice sliver of tan, muscular back. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you sighed deeply at the sight before you. How easy would it be to reach and smack-

“Babe!” Oscar called again, turning around to check on you. “I can’t hold this- Are you checking me out? You’re supposed to be telling me where this goes.”

“You shouldn’t look that good then.”

Clambering down from the ladder, he placed the thick board down on the nearest table and sauntered over to you. Placing his hands on your hips, he pulled you flush against him. Pressing a kiss to your nose, he trailed his lips down to your jaw and then under your ear.

“How about we call it a night? This’ll all be here tomorrow, and you can appreciate the view without the t-shirt.”

When you didn’t smile at his enticing offer, Oscar pulled down to look at you. Brushing a strand of hair back from your face, he frowned at the furrow between your brows.

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I’m just worried that it’s not enough, you know…”

Oscar turned his head slightly, drinking in all the work you had put together. The butterflies made out of patterned cards that you had spent hours scouring stores for. The paper flowers decorating the whiteboard that you had spent days stressing about. The stack of drawers with each student's name labelled across the front. The days of work that had gone into ensuring that each little person that crossed your threshold was as happy as they could be. A teacher that cared.

“I know they’re only five, and they’ve never had another classroom to go off but- I don’t know. I just want them to feel comfortable and safe, and happy. I don’t want them to feel like they’re in an institution designed to make them sit in a seat for six hours.”

“Look at all the effort you’ve put in so far. Without all the lesson planning and actual caring you’ll do when those kids come under your care. Did you ever have a classroom like this growing up? No. Neither did I. You know why, because nobody cares as much as you do.”

Straightening, he swung you up into his arms, bridal style. A cheeky grin pulled at the corners of his mouth when you shrieked in laughter.

“Now, let’s go home, Skoggie is waiting for us. We'll grab some dinner and take a bath together. What do you say?”

“Okay, Piastri. Take me home or lose me forever.”

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, arthur_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri dating a teacher means spending summer break painting, cutting, glueing and then being told “it’s quiet time” whilst she decompresses from watching you do all the work

3,381 comments

yn_ln you wouldn’t stop talking and i was trying to refresh my barbie knowledge

→ user1 princess and the pauper?

→ yn_ln absolutely

→ landonorris i’m the erika to her annalise

→ oscarpiastri whoa, you help with one classroom and think you can take my coveted spot?

yn_ln plus it was hard work taking in the view

→ oscarpiastri i had a pretty good view afterwards 🛁🫧

user2 idk why but the paint hands make me wanna scream

→ user3 omg i wonder if they made the little hand canvas things loads of couples have done

→ oscarpiastri we did! they’re now hung up over our bed

maxverstappen1 think you can make some more of those flowers for P’s room?

→ oscarpiastri i’ve got paper cuts on top of paper cuts. don't ask me to do more

→ yn_ln i’ve got loads left over. she can pick the ones she likes best

user4 the matching pjs 🥰 this couple has my whole heart

→ yn_ln he also has mine!

user5 i love when oscar’s insta has something other than racing on it

→ user6 i want yn to let us onto hers so bad. i would sell my soul for the couples content on there

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others

yn_ln and it’s done. one week of relaxation left before the new term starts. i can’t wait to meet my new bunch of kids. a huge thank you to my constant kid @/landonorris for his help and mess. and an even bigger gratitude to osc. without you, this never would’ve been finished. you helped not only physically but mentally. my rock 💕

1,681 comments

user7 omg am i seeing things? is this actually oscar’s yn?

oscarpiastri you did an amazing job 🤍 enjoy your last week off

→ yn_ln you better not win any more races without me

→ mclaren you know he can’t promise that

landonorris maybe if you had been my teacher, i would’ve stayed in school

→ carlossainz55 doubtful

maxverstappen1 P can’t wait to be in your class

→ yn_ln and i’m looking forward to being her teacher. although it might be hard to fight the urge to show favouritism

hattiepiastri ew, don’t be cute online

→ oscarpiastri you're just mad that i'm her favourite piastri

→ hattiepiastri we both know that's a lie

→ nicolepiastri it's me

user8 um, can she be my teacher, please?

charles_leclerc i think this is a sign that i need to have children so that you can become their teacher

→ alexandrasaintmleux let’s stick with leo for now

→ nicolepiastri i keep trying to convince oscar and yn. you’ll be next, don’t worry

→ oscarpiastri you have Skoggie. you don’t need any other grandkids

user9 we’re in! everyone say thank you oscar for making her come off priv

→ user10 their couple content is healing my soul

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Request for F1 fics are open.

A/N: Apologies for the delay in getting these out. I've been super busy making jumpers for my upcoming family Disney trip

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119

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faux-ecrivain · 1 year ago

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Yan Idol

(Third official post)

Yan idol who used to be your best friend, the two of you used to be so close, but then he was recruited into stardom and suddenly he spent less, and less time with you.

Yan idol who changes his entire personality, appearance and habits (on request of his manager), until you can’t recognize him.

Yan idol who pushes you away in favor of his famous peers, he reschedules your hangouts and brushes you off.

Yan idol’s popularity grows and so does his ego, at first you two have simple arguments. (he didn’t do his half of the chores, he didn’t pick you up from work, those sort of things) Then he starts to berate you, insisting that he was never truly your friend and only hung out with you because of pity.

Yan idol who regrets those words the moment he says them, trying to repair your friendship with faux apologies. But it doesn’t work, you kick him out of your house, you tell him that you never want to hear from him again.

He relents, saying it doesn’t matter as he storms out of your house, and tries to avoid his luggage as you throw it onto the yard. The two of you have a shouting match, then he’s ushered away by his manager (who had heard of the commotion via paparazzi).

When he’s safely hidden away in the car tears begin to fall and the guilt he feels fully sets in, the days pass and he tries to reconnect with you. But you reject his calls, you blocked his number and you won’t answer any letter he sends you.

Eventually his manager has had enough and tells Yan Idol that he needs to move on, that if he doesn’t start to focus on his career then he’ll be let go.

Yan idol who relents, giving in to his manager’s demands and trying to forget you. (It’s difficult, everywhere he looks he’s reminded of you.)

Yan idol who, after many months have passed, has somewhat successfully put you out of his mind. (He’s made different friends, friends within his tax bracket)

However this all changes when he sees you at a meet and greet, you’ve come with some friends, you don’t seem happy to be here. But you’re here and everything he ever felt for you comes rushing back.

He smiles (brighter than he ever has) when you and your friends approach his booth, when you and your friends are standing in front of him and you look at him. It’s almost like you recognize him, but then you look away. (Why did you look away? Don’t you recognize him? Don’t you want to be with him again?)

He tries to get your attention, but you tell him you don’t want his autograph, that you’re only here for your friends. (You definitely recognize him, you just don’t want to admit it. He thinks you’re just scared, you’re worried that he’s still upset. But he isn’t, he just wants you back, that’s all.)

Yan idol who makes the impromptu decision to invite you and your friends over (to the manager’s chagrin).

Yan idol who incapacitates your friends and then kidnaps you.

Yan idol who’s overjoyed to have you back in his arms, he holds you close and ignores your pleas of freedom.

Yan idol who continues performing as though nothing changed (somehow he managed to avoid being charged for the incapacitation of your friends, and the police are encourage to ignore any reports of you missing)

Yan idol who continues to gain popularity with every concert he puts on, then when it’s over he comes home to you, and acts as though the two of you were married. (Despite how much you struggle and fight)

Yan idol who’s blissfully ignorant of your anger and frustration, who interprets your actions and attempts to escape as a way of expressing your betrayal towards him.

Yan idol who promises that he’ll never leave you again, that he’ll always be here for you.

(Not my best work, but not my worst work. Either way, enjoy this short fanfic and feel free to comment.)

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #my Writing #yandere idol x reader #I’m gonna name him Shin.#Enjoy this brief fanfic!#third official post #not my best work #soft yandere #Shin my oc

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natalicss · 4 months ago

Text

Like We Were In Paris

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live

warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!

word count: 4.1K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!

You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.

You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.

From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.

You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.

It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.

Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe.

Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes.

Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).

When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know.

Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour.

Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.

The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend.

The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you.

“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go.

The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.

But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him.

“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.

“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch.

He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.”

You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything.

“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.

“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room.

Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye. “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.

Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.

Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him.

As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.

“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”

“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.

You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.

“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”

“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”

“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.

You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush.

When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars.

Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.

Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love.

Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it.

He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.

He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there.

As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.

And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.

It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.

“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect.

“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong #gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon fanfic #kwon jiyong fanfic #fanfic #x reader #kpop fluff

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chris-hallelujah · 6 months ago

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Have You Ever Tried This One? pt. 2 | m.s.

Part One Here!

Warnings: foul language, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.8k words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzsblog @nickgurl4life

Enter my giveaway!! (closes 11/15)

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one! I was not expecting it to get the attention it did. Thank you again @delilahsturniolo for the inspo and letting me make your idea my own. I'm sorry if it feels rushed -- I knew you all were waiting for this so I tried to hurry!!

<3 - Billie

The lights in the arena darkened and you disappeared from the view of the crowd's view. "Goodnight Boston, I'll see you soon!" You called into the mic before handing it off to someone on stage crew. Your manager handed you a water bottle which you gladly took. Making your way back to your dressing room, she fussed over your hair and outfit.

"There are a few journalists who want to speak with you and those boys you invited backstage," she said powdering your face. You waved her off.

"I just got done with a concert, they can deal with a little bit of imperfection," you laughed walking out of your dressing room. In the lobby area backstage you saw the triplets with Chris' girlfriend standing against a wall. You waved at them to acknowledge them quickly before you had to deal with the few journalists. After about 10 minutes of interviews and answering questions, you were finally free. You sauntered over to the group with a smile. "Hi! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting! I'm Billie, it is so nice to meet you all," You exclaimed shaking each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Your hand lingered connected to Matt's for a few seconds longer than the others. He was quiet, shy as you all conversed. Chris and Nick did most of the talking. "I've seen some of your videos. You guys are hilarious," you smiled looking across all of them but then locking eyes with Matt.

"Y-you've seen our videos?" he asked surprised, earning a nod from you.

"I have and I'm really honored you all came tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show." You all chatted for a bit before your manager passed by giving you a look to wrap it up. "It was great to get to meet you all. And, Matt, if you're up for it, I'd love to chat more." You flashed him a confident smile and handed him a paper with your number on it. He took it with a shaky hand, staring at it wide eyed.

"Yea, no, that - yea sounds good," he blurt out earning a laugh from his brothers.

"You might have broke him," Nick teased.

After you all parted ways you made your way back to your hotel room. The hot shower water ran down your body as you felt your muscles relax. The plush bathrobe hugged your body as you climbed out of the shower and, as if on cue, your phone buzzed.

Hey, you put on a great show tonight. Thanks for the handcuffs. Now I just need to put them to use ;)

You're too sweet and a bit more bold when your brothers aren't around to tease you

They're a piece of work lol when can I see you again?

I'm at the four seasons room 311

Matt stared at his phone in shock. He never would have expected you to just give him the information for your hotel room. He quietly snuck out of his bedroom, not wanting to have to deal with telling Nick and Chris that he was going to see you.

You quickly freshened up, enough to look cute but not too much that you looked desperate. About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your hotel room door. Matt's face greeted you as you opened it. He was leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. You could already tell that he was a different Matt than you'd met earlier. "Hey, pretty girl," he spoke smoothly.

A slight blush crept your cheeks as you moved aside to let him in. You took in his all black outfit, noting how nice it looked on him. "Hi Matt," you smiled. Matt looked around, taking in the fancy hotel suite you were in.

"Nice place you got here. All of your tour stops this fancy?" he asked sitting down on the sofa.

You laughed a bit, "I try and make them feel like home a bit. Traveling so much can be exhausting and it's nice to come back to a hotel room that has all that I need in it." Shuffling through the mini fridge, you pulled out some wine. "You want some?" He nodded leading you to pour two glasses. You took a spot next to him on the sofa, not leaving much room between you, but enough for it to not be awkward. "So, tell me about you. What do I need to know about Matt Sturniolo?" you asked.

He took a sip of the wine before turning fully to face you, "Well, as you know I'm a triplet. I'm the middle one. We've been doing YouTube since-"

You cut him off shaking your head. "I don't want to know about your brothers. Tell me about you." This caused Matt's head to spin. He wasn't used to people only wanting to learn about him. People always loved Chris for his looks and Nick for his humor, but sometimes Matt felt swept under the rug. ((I'm crying writing this))

A smile on his face, he took a different approach, "Okay well, I really like nature. I feel so at peace when I'm outside. I also used to be really into reading. Fell outta that for a while, but I'm starting to pick it up again." The two of you chatted getting to know each other and finishing the bottle of wine quicker than either of you had planned.

It had been an hour of just drinking and talking and before you knew it your legs were draped over his lap, hands in his hair. He had his lips attached to yours as he held your hips. You weren't quite sure how you got there, but you weren't complaining. Matt pulled away slightly, earning a whine from you. Both of you breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against yours. "You sure about this, miss popstar?" he said, teasing you slightly. You giggled and nodded, placing your lips on his neck. He groaned, tilting his head back to give you more access. You trailed down his jawline, then his neck, and to his collarbone leaving bites and kisses in your path. A flash of pink covered your eyes as Matt tugged your shirt off over your head and tossed it to meet his on the floor. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. Something caught your eye, peeking out of his back pocket. Something pink. With fur? Oh my god.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you tugged the fuzzy pink handcuffs you had gifted him at the concert out of his back pocket. "I see you wanted to break in your gift," you smirked, twirling them on your finger. He chuckled snatching them from you and tossing them to the side.

"Don't worry, pretty girl, they'll get used soon," he winked. His pants hit the floor and your eyes trailed down his body. Before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees in front of him. "Such a good girl. Didn't even have to tell you," he smirked. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length causing him to hiss slightly. As your lips enclosed around his tip, his hand found home in your hair. Your tongue swirled around him slowly before you closed the distance between your lips and his groin. He groaned loudly as you took him in deeper. Impulsively, his hand pushed your head further, causing a choking noise to leave you. "Shhh, you got it, princess. Doin' - ah - doing so well," he moaned as your head bobbed. As you moved your head back and forth, your hand covered what didn't fit in your mouth. It did not take long for Matt's hand to coerce you a bit more forcefully as you noticed his body tense up. "Oh fuck, keep goin," he moaned. A few more pumps later you felt his load shoot into your mouth as he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. You pulled off of him with a slight 'pop' and sat with a satisfied grin on your face. He let out a deep breath before looking down at you.

Next thing you knew, your back hit the mattress and Matt hovered over you. "Better wipe that smirk off that pretty little face," he chuckled. To your right you heard the sound of metal clinking. Matt's hand gathered your small wrist and cuffed you to the bed. You looked up at the handcuffs and back at him whimpering slightly. Your arms wiggled causing the metal to clank against the headboard. "What? Can't handle what you dish out?" he smirked and trailed kisses down your torso. When he reached your underwear, his eyes met yours again for approval. As you nodded, he discarded your thong onto the floor. Your hips twitched in anticipation as you felt his breath on your core. The wide grin on his face was undeniable as he watched you already writhing beneath him. "So sensitive," he chuckled tracing circles on your thigh, "barely even touched you yet."

"Matty, please," you whined. He ended your suffering licking a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted at the contact and you gasped loudly. He quickly shoved your hips back down to the bed and held them there with his hands, probably leaving bruises that would show tomorrow. Matt explored you with his tongue, taking note on what made your legs shake. As his tongue circled your clit, he felt your hips try to raise against his hands. "Oh! Matt fuck" you moaned loudly. He smiled against you knowing he figured out your weakness. He continued to work your bundle of nerves until you were a writhing, moaning mess underneath him. The noise of the handcuffs fighting the headboard earned a laugh from Matt's mouth that vibrated against you. Your body tensed as your climax built up. He slipped a finger into you, thrusting quickly as his tongue danced against your clit. You felt pleasure take over your body. "Matt - my god! Don't stop!" you cried out. He continued to ride out your orgasm until your body relaxed and you panted against the bed. He carefully removed his fingers from you and crawled up to meet your eyes. Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tasting yourself as you licked them clean. He removed his fingers from your mouth and unlocked the handcuffs.

A soft kiss landed on your forehead as he pulled his t shirt over your head. You smiled climbing under the covers. Pulling his boxers back on before he climbed into bed with you. The night was spent wrapped in each others' arms.

The morning light showed through the curtains as you woke. After cuddling up to Matt for a few more minutes, you reached for your phone. Your eyes widened as you saw messages from your manager. Attached was an article titled, "YouTube Triplet Seen at Pop Star's Hotel." You knew this was not going to end well with your publicity team but, boy, was it worth it.

#matt sturniolo #Matthew sturniolo #Chris sturniolo #Christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #Spotify

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katiascraft · 7 months ago

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"I'll pay the price i guess" | OP81

Parings: Oscar Piastri x famous!singer!reader.

Summary: the world hates you are dating Oscar.

Now playing: "Slut!" by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +1,3k.

Warnings: mentions of slu*, b***h, etc. pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: I loved writing this one 🥹 the boy that you at Osc. Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

Flashes were leaving you kind of blind right now. You and Oscar were invited to the Cannes festival because one of your best friends from the industry, Zendaya, invited you and your boyfriend to live the experience and see the premier of The Joker 2 movie - you absolutely adored Lady Gaga. Obviously you were so excited to be here. It was the both of you first time at the festival.

Photographers screamed at you to get pictures and made you look at them. It was a thrilling experience. You were more comfortable than Oscar with this. You came into the spotlight when you were only 17 years old with your first song that went viral on musically (TikTok of the past).

For that reason you were used to scrutiny that the media put you under. Social media was cruel to you. Everyone had an opinion on you and who you dated or not.

Oscar and you met back in 2023 when he was a rookie in formula one. You met at a party thrown in Monaco when you were on vacation. One of your friends knew Lando so you basically met because of him.

When you met Oscar you just couldn’t help but become obsessed with his Australian accent and his smile. Oh god - his smile. You fell in love with him right there hearing him giggle. You were completely flattered and he found you so adorable.

The chemistry between you two was unmatched. The way you both knew what you were thinking just by a look. The way he knew what you needed when you needed it. The way he knew his tongue will make you crumble on the bed. The way he made you grab the sheets until your knuckles went white. He was the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen. The hottest. And the sweetest soul in this world. Or at least in your world. The way he made you laugh was the serotonin you always needed to feel the happiest. And oh he knew it. He knew it all. He knew everything about you and he loved being your weakness as much as he enjoyed being yours.

Because of you being used to the spot lite. You knew it was best if you kept your thing a secret. He was new into all of the media mess and you didn’t want to be part of that. You didn’t want people to tear him down the way they did to you. You wanted to protect him. So he agreed to maintain your relationship a secret. You felt bad though. You wanted to scream to the world that you were his. And that he was yours. But you couldn’t let people destroy what you have. even as much as it hurt you.

Having a secret was nerve racking to you. You didn’t know when or how people could find out about your romance. Its was very stressful. But you had the time of your lives. It turned out to be even fun. A little tempting. You two always joked around and pretended to be friends or you hid where cameras couldn’t catch you. Most times you couldn’t be with him at the races and he couldn’t assist to your concerts when you went on tour. And that was the hardest part. Not being able to enjoy what he loved the most with him and viceversa. That broke you a little.

After being dating for a year already - you committed a mistake. You went to charle’s birthday party in Monaco. And the pictures went up online. The secret was over and the internet went mad about it. Everybody was talking about you two. Most comments were negative. People hated you two were together and happy.

That’s when you had your first panic attack. You knew how mc claren fans were about Oscar. They were so protective. He was the lover boy. The single one. The one everybody wanted. And now he wasn’t. He was yours. And the world hated it.

They called you so many things. Slut was the nicest comment on your comment section. Media was dragging you. Now everybody hated you. Since those photos came out you were the most hated person on the internet.

You and Oscar had such a rough time. He couldn’t bear how people could be so mean to you. He was hurt as much as you were. People were saying he was too good for you. But he thought otherwise. You were too good even for this cruel world. You didn’t deserve any of that shit. He was mad. The races after the pictures went up he almost didn’t do media. He answered shortly and with a poker face. He didn’t want to be part of it. And it didn’t matter. The only things that matter were you and what he did in the car. There were no need for further questions. People started hating on him for that. They said you were the problem. You made him mean and boring. You stole his light. They weren’t letting you win.

And you couldn’t believe what they said. In a world of boys he was such a gentlemen. The most caring and loving and empathic man you’ve ever known. People are cruel, so cruel. Your heart was broken.

But that didn’t end you. You knew you were end game. You were meant to be with each other. There wasn’t other way in this life. It was him. He was the one. The love you felt for each other was immense. You could get through this.

And you did.

“You okay baby?” He put you out of your thoughts with his sweet raspy voice intensifying his grip on you. You smiled widely at him. He smiled back at you. And in that moment you remembered why you were end game. You didn’t care about what people said. The only thing that mattered was him and you. Only you two against the whole world.

And if that meant to be a slut then it would be worth it for once. You didn’t care anymore. You would be the bitch of the country for him. And you know he would love it. He would love to see that people were mad in the head hating on you knowing how amazing you were. And only he did know. The world was gonna be fucked. You two were crazy that’s right. And crazy for each other too. What a thing you came to the Joker 2 premier.

You looked deep into his eyes “I’m all alright my pretty boy” you said quirky and he couldn’t resist it. He kissed you in front of the hundreds of cameras there were. You smiled in his lips. You were flustered. Red. He was the boy of your dreams. You really wanted a family with that man. He was everything to you. Photographers lost their shit there. The flashes intensified. And you felt so happy to be so open. To be real there with him. To not hide anymore.

You would take all of the hate of the world on your shoulders and enjoy it if that ment you two were gonna be together forever.

He giggled in your lips pulling apart. That melted your heart. You grabbed your dress a little so you could walk and he offered his hand. You took it and intertwined your fingers walking a little more into the red carpet. Lando and his girlfriend were ahead next to you on the carpet and they looked at you with a huge a smile. They also knew everything.

You could feel Oscar feeling so happy and proud to have you by his side.

“End game baby” he said proudly posing for the camaras grabbing you by the waist.

You fixed your hair a little smiling and posing “end game my baby boy” you said lovely making him kiss your head.

______________________________________________________

I hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send me your requests!

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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slut4hee · 7 months ago

Text

I Can Keep A Secret, Can You?

{Paring: Idol Heeseung x Blk Fem! Reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

{Genre: smut, nda signing, secret relationship, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: You joined a fan sign raffle for a chance to speak to the members of Enhypen, but specifically your ult bias Lee Heeseung. You joined for the heck of it, not thinking you would win but to your luck you did. Not only did you get a chance to speak face to face with Heeseung, you got to sign an nda with him…

{Warnings: Softdom heeseung, sub reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, (use protection my lovelies), oral ( f receiving), big dick hee, kissing, titty play, doggystyle, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, cum eating, squirting, dirty talk, pet names.

You screamed to the top of your lungs, as you read the email stating that you won an entry to an in person Enhypen fan signing event, in Seoul South Korea. You couldn’t believe what you were reading right now, you out of all people got selected to meet the Enhypen face to face, in the flesh.

You’ve always been a big fan of Enhypen, being that you’ve been supporting them since I-land, and you literally own every single one of their albums and posters. You loved all the members of Enhypen, but there was one particular member you loved a little bit more.

Lee Heeseung, he was your ult bias and you were so in love with him. You’ve been biasing Heeseung since the beginning, and you have all of his photo cards, as well as his pictures and posters all over your wall. The fact that you will get to meet and speak with Heeseung in person, has all types of butterflies erupting in your stomach and so many emotions going through your head all at once.

You quickly started searching for flights to Korea, and browsing many hotels and airbnbs. Finally after hours of looking for the perfect hotel and the appropriate flight, you booked them both squealing in excitement as you jumped up and down on your bed. You got ready for bed, but you knew sleep wouldn’t come so easily for you, because of how excited and shocked you were, you couldn’t wait for the day to come.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Fast forward, it’s now been a week since you found out you’re going to meet Enhypen in person, to meet Heeseung in person. You are now in Seoul, and you’re currently in your hotel room, doing your makeup and getting ready to head to fan sign. That’s right, today is the day your dreams come true and you couldn’t be more happier. You honestly still can’t believe you won the freaking fan sign, and on top of that you get to visit South Korea, one of your dream destinations.

You finally finished your makeup, going with a natural yet soft pink look. You also wore a cute little light pink crop top, with a denim mini skirt showing off your beautiful curves, and you styled your hair in a slicked back bun, your edges laying nicely. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, admiring your beauty loving how your makeup and hair turned out, you hoped Heeseung would think the same.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

You’re now standing in line, waiting to enter the building. Your nerves are all over the place and your heart is racing in anticipation as you wait to go inside. It’s really fucking happening, you thought to yourself as reality sets in that you’re about to be face to face with 7 Korean men you’ve only seen on tv, and in concert.

Finally after what felt like eternity, the line moves as the staff starts letting people in, you practiced deep breaths, as you make your way inside the venue, you’re so nervous and anxious you don’t know what to expect. You made it in, and a staff member checks your invitation, before leading you to your seat in the front.

Your heart beats out of your chest, when you realize just how close you are to the stage. Your hands trembled as you held up your phone to snap a picture of the stage. Just as you’re about to take the picture, the crowd of engenes burst into a fit of screams, shouting the members names as they arrived on stage.

You smiled with excitement, waving and screaming for the members as they introduced themselves and bowed to the crowd. Your eyes were on Heeseung the whole time, you couldn’t believe how much more handsome and ethereal he looked in person. Suddenly Heeseung made eye contact with you, his stare lingering a little longer before he turned away smirking to himself.

Did Heeseung just smirk at me, you thought to yourself as you try to process what just happened. Not long after you were being called up for your turn to interact with the members. You started with Jungwon, telling him how much you adored him, and appreciated all his hard work as a leader.

Then it was Sunoo, you expressed how much you enjoyed his vocals and how beautiful he was. Finally after speaking to the rest of the members you then made it to Heeseung. Your palms are sweaty and your knees felt stiff, as you take your seat in front of him. Heeseung gazes at you, studying your facial features.

“Oh my god, Heeseung I love you so much I’m sorry I just don’t know what to I-“ you tripped over your words, feeling nervous from his intense gaze and the fact you are sitting right in front of him, is a bit overwhelming. Heeseung smiled brightly at you, showing off his pearly white teeth, as he reached his hand to hold yours. You were a little taken aback by his sudden move, but you quickly complied, holding his hand with yours.

“Tell me your name princess” he smirked, swaying both of your hands back and forth. You blushed hard at the pet name, not being able to hold eye contact with him. He noticed that, as he titled his head to the side a little as he waited for you to answer his question.

“My name is Y/n, I came all the way from the U.S to meet you Heeseung” you explained with enthusiasm, a wide grin displaying your face. As you both continued to talk, you noticed how Heeseung listened so attentively at what you had to say, and you weren’t so sure, but you would think that Heeseung was into you, by the way he seemed so interested in your day to day life.

Unfortunately it was time to move on to the next fan, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that it went by so quickly. You expressed your love and appreciation towards Heeseung one last time before standing up to take your leave. What you didn’t notice was that Heeseung was watching you the whole entire time as you walked back to your seat, not even noticing that the next fan had sat in front of him.

Heeseung knew he had to have you, you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he couldn’t deny you intrigued him so much, it was just something about you that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he was determined to have you in his bed by the end of the night. So he quickly called over one of the staff members, whispering something in their ear. The staff member nodded in agreement before walking off.

As you’re grabbing your things getting ready to leave, you feel someone tap you on your shoulder catching your attention. You looked up to see a Tall Korean gentleman with a black mask covering his face. You looked at him confused, wondering if you done something wrong.

“Miss if you don’t mind, would you be willing to follow me to the backstage” he asked you politely, you looked at him a little suspiciously, wondering why on earth would he be asking you to come backstage with him.

“I don’t understand, did I do something wrong?” You asked him, feeling nervous and anxious. The man quickly shook his head no, you immediately felt relief wash over you, hoping you didn’t say or do anything to make any of the members feel uncomfortable.

“No miss you’ve done nothing wrong, it’s just” he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “One of the members has requested your presence backstage” he replied, you stared at him in a state of shock, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth. You wondered which one of the members actually asked for you backstage.

“U-Uh okay” you stuttered, feeling a little skeptical and worried, you were just hoping you weren’t being tricked and you’re actually being led to your death. Only one way to find out right? The man nodded, as you followed him backstage.

Finally he stopped at a door, that had a sign on it that said “Staff Only” You swallowed down your nerves, as you prepared yourself for the worst. The gentleman opened the door and behind it was two other Korean gentleman, who were sitting at a desk, one of them holding a stick of papers.

“Please come in and take a seat please” the man with the stack of papers said, as he gestured you towards the seat. You gulped before taking a seat. The man then laid the stack of papers in front of you, as well as a pen. You looked up at him confused, why was he handing you a contract??

“I know this is a bit out of the blue Miss Y/n, but it seems that one of our Artists has taken a liking to you and has requested for a one night stand with you” the man spoke with seriousness in his tone, you stared at him wide eyed, did he just say what you think he just said. You looked down at the paper in front of you, and at the top of it read the words “𝑵𝑫𝑨” in bold letters.

“Umm may I ask which artist has requested for me” you replied, as you shifted in your seat, feeling a little uncertain about this whole situation. The other man then spoke, you recognized him before, you’ve seen him with the members when you saw them at their world tour.

“My apologies, let me introduce myself. My name is Park Sunwoo and I’m the manager for Enhypen. And to answer your question, Lee Heeseung has requested for you Miss Y/n” he nodded. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when he said that, the Lee Heeseung wanted to sign an NDA with you?!

“Before we get started, I do want to let you know that you have every right to decline this offer Miss Y/n. But for me to further explain any more information about this, I would need you to sign your signature on this line right here on the paperwork” he pointed to the line, indicating that you sign your name. You bit your lip nervously, debating whether you should sign it or not.

But when will you ever get the opportunity to have a one night stand with Heeseung, when will you get the chance to do anything like this. You’ve never been the one to do one night stands, or just give up your goodies the first time you meet a guy, but this was so much different. This was Lee Heeseung from Enhypen we’re talking about it, so without any further thought you signed your name on the paper.

“Very well then. Thank you so much for agreeing to the terms Miss Y/n, I will now explain how this whole process works. So you have agreed to signing an NDA, with Artist Lee Heeseung. This means that whatever You and Lee Heeseung decide to do tonight is strictly prohibited from the public eye, do you wish to continue?” He asked, scanning through the pages of the paperwork.

“Yes, I-I do” you responded, fiddling with your fingers. This was just too much to process, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a little excited though. He then flipped to the last page of the contract.

“Going forward, we also want to make you aware that failing to comply with the rules of the contract is automatic breach, that goes for both parties. So without further ado, would you please sign your name one last time and we can move forward” Your trembling hands grabbed ahold of the pen, signing your name on the line once again.

“Great, everything has been finalized. We would be contacting you with information regarding your evening plans with Heeseung, once your background check comes back clean. Thank you for your time Miss Y/n” Park Sunwoo stood up to shake your hand. You shook his hand and thanked him before you were led out the back exit.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

As you got back to your hotel, you had been checking your phone nonstop, feeling anxious and impatient. Finally your phone dinged with a notification, and you grabbed your phone so fast, opening your messages.

Unknown Number: Hello, Miss Y/n. Just informing you that your background check came back clean, and I will now be sending over a personal driver to pick you up from your hotel, to bring you to Heeseung’s private accommodation.

You: Oh okay, thank you so much.

Ten minutes later, you received another text from an unknown number, stating that they’re waiting for you down at the lobby. You quickly grabbed your things, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, before heading downstairs. You were now in the back of a Black Mercedes Benz Van, with the windows tinted. Not shorty after, you were pulling into a parking lot of very nice modern style Airbnb.

“We have arrived” the man hopped out of the driver’s seat to open your passenger seat door for you. You thanked him and smiled, and he bowed before getting back into the van and driving off.

You nervously walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Not long after, none other than Heeseung himself answered the door. You gasp inaudible at the sight of Heeseung clad in a white tank top, gray sweats pants, and his hair damp from the shower you assumed he just finished.

“Come in please” he moved to the side to let you by. You nervously walked into the house, taking in the scenery of the place. It was nice and cozy and looked lived in. It’s like Heeseung read your mind when he said “This is my place actually, I stay here when I’m not out on schedules or on vacations” he nodded and smiled, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s really beautiful Hee, I love it” you blushed shyly, feeling a little hot from the close proximity of your bodies almost touching. “Hee?” He questioned as he smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist. You damn near melted, your knees feeling like they’re going to give out on you any minute now.

“I-I mean Heeseung, sorry it’s like a nickname all of us fans call you” you stuttered, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Heeseung chuckled, biting his lip, then leaning down to be face level with you because he towers over you. You’d breath hitched, as you feel his lips ghosting over yours.

“Is this okay, do you mind if I kiss you baby girl” he spoke lowly, his voice sounding husky and laced with desire. You whimpered, feeling your arousal starting to leak through your panties.

“God yes, yes you can kiss me plea-“ before you could even finish your sentence, Heeseung’s lips crashed against yours, kissing you with hunger and fervor. You moaned into the kiss, when you felt Heeseung’s hands gripping your ass. You let out a yelp, when Heeseung suddenly picked you up leading you to the bedroom.

“Fuck, you don’t know how bad i want you baby, fucking took everything in me not to pull you into one of the dressing rooms and fuck you stupid” he groaned, laying you on the bed as he got on top of you, attacking your lips once again. You could only moan in response, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Heeseung, please I need you please do something” you begged shamelessly, still not processing that you’re about to fuck Lee Heeseung, someone you thought you would never have the chance to meet, but here you were about to get your brains fucked out by him.

“Shhh, patience baby I’m gonna give you what you want” he smirked, as he started to undress you. He tugged your top off, and unclasp your bra effortlessly starting to suck on your brown nipple, his other hand fondling the other. You arched your back, rubbing your thighs together trying to gain some type of friction.

“God baby, you’re so fucking sexy gotta taste your sweet little cunt now” he growled, tugging your panties off and spreading your legs wide. You whined, when he dragged his long fingers through your wet folds, sliding his finger inside.

“Fuck, this slutty pussy so tight, fuck can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock mama” he hissed, as he watched the way your tight pussy sucked his finger in. He then leaned down to lick a stripe of your pussy, licking and sucking your clit softly.

“Oh my fucking god, shit Hee baby feels so good” you screamed in pleasure, your legs shaking uncontrollably, as you grabbed ahold of his fluffy hair. His wet tongue felt like heaven on your pussy and you couldn’t get enough.

“Shit baby, wet little pussy taste so good, fuck I could eat your sweet cunt forever” he groaned, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through you, you gripped his locks a little harder, feeling your climax approaching dangerously.

“Ughh, fuck Hee I’m g-gonna cum” you cried out, your legs trembling as the band in your stomach threatens to snap any minute.

“Cum for me, cream on my face pretty little slut” he flicked his tongue faster against your clit, plunging his fingers deep inside your tight pussy. Not long after you were coming undone on his mouth and fingers, squirting your essence everywhere. Heeseung cursed under his breath at the sight of your spent pussy, leaking out your juices.

“Damn sweetheart, that was so hot I’m so hard I need to feel you wrapped around my cock” he whined, as he quickly rid himself of his clothes, showing off his perfectly lean build, and his long hard cock that leaks precum from the tip. You mouth watered at the sight, as you grabbed his dick stroking him slowly.

“Ah-fuck, shit that feels so good Y/n” he whined, his hips buckling up involuntarily. You bit your lip at the way his heavy cock twitched in your hand so desperately. Before he could come undone, he swatted your hand away, earring a whine from you.

“Get on all fours for me baby” his voice sounding strained, as tugged at his hard cock. You quickly, laid your face down in the pillows, and poking your ass out arching your back. Heeseung smacked your ass before aligning his cock up at your hole. He started to push himself inside you, his cock sliding in easily from how wet and turned on you are. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute before setting a rhythm, rocking his hips back and forth.

“Fuuckkk, you’re so fucking tight, god baby sucking me in so good” he lets out deep grunts as he pounds into you from behind. You gripped the sheets roughly, feeling every inch of Heeseung’s cock penetrating your walls.

“Yes yes yes, fuck me harder please harder” you screamed, throwing your ass back at him as you desperately chased after his thrusts. Heeseung threw his head back, showing off his flushed neck. You clenched your pussy tighter around him, earning a whiny moan from him.

“Ahh f-fuck, stop clenching baby or I’m gonna cum” he hissed in pleasure, gripping your waist tighter as he slammed into you roughly. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again.

“Please Daddy, fill me up with your babies, I want your load inside me” you looked back at him, tears gathering in your waterlines, from the intense pleasure you’re feeling. Heeseung’s hips stuttered, as his strokes became sloppy, losing his pace.

“Shit shit shit, I’m about to cum Nghh fuck” he moaned deeply, his thrusts became erratic as he chased his high. Not long after his hips stilled, shooting ropes of thick cum inside you. The feeling of his hot cum, triggered another orgasm out of you, squirting and creaming all over his dick. He pulls his softening cock out, watching the way his cum and your arousal leaks from your spent hole.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled weakly at him before snuggling your face into his neck.

“Wow baby, that was the best sex I ever had in my life” he chuckled weakly, his breathing still uneven from the intense orgasm he had.

“I can’t believe I just fucked Lee Heeseung” you said in disbelief, as you looked up at him before kissing his lips. He kissed you back, as he rubbed your back softly.

“𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗛𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴”

“𝗜𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼, 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂?”

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍…

A/n: FUCK FUCK FUCK, if I ever get to sign an nda with Heeseung, just know ima fuck the life out of this man🤭 but honestly I’m thinking about making a part two of this where reader and hee possibly start dating secretly 👀. Let me know if you guys want it, hope you guys like it and reblogs are greatly appreciated. ᯓᡣ𐭩

_____________________________________________

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩:

@wave2hoon

#enhypen #smut #enhypen imagines #fanfic #lee heeseung #enhypen smut #enhypen x black reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #heeseung x black reader #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #slut4heeworks #slut4heemasterlist #slut4heeupdates #slut4hee #feeling slutty #i want him inside me

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shuafiles · 7 months ago

Text

young lust [y.jh]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | you and jeonghan couldn’t wait until you got home so he pulled over at the side of the road

PAIRING | idol bf!jeonghan x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (dont), dick riding, nipple play?, slight choking, swearing

WORDS | 1.9k

A/N | heavily inspired by diet pepsi. im so glad jeonghan isnt bald (yet). this is for my girlies who miss him <3 NOT PROOFREAD

you absentmindedly fiddled with jeonghan’s fingers resting on your lap as he chatted with the boys. your mind began to wander as their laughter filled the air, likely over something funny mingyu had done on stage. it was the company dinner, a celebration of their successful concert, and you were more than happy to be invited by jeonghan and the rest of the group. watching your boyfriend interact with the people he cherished most made you smile. his concert makeup was still intact, he had joked about wanting to show you how pretty he looked up close. though you were used to his humor, you couldn’t help but agree—he really did look so pretty.

amid your thoughts, jeonghan’s hand gently slid from your hand to rest on your thigh. you didn’t mind—it was a familiar gesture between the two of you. he always loved holding you in some way, whether it was his hand on your waist or your fingers intertwined. as long as you were beside him, he felt at ease.

"y/n! what did you think of the show today?" seokmin's voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to face him with a smile. you had grown close with the boys over time. after nearly two years of dating jeonghan, it was only natural that you formed a bond with the people who surrounded him the most.

"it was amazing! you guys always—" your words faltered as jeonghan’s hand slipped beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your clothed entrance. your eyes widened, and your thoughts derailed completely. seokmin noticed your sudden pause and tilted his head with concern.

"are you okay?" he asked, drawing the attention of several others at the table. all eyes were now on you as your breath hitched, jeonghan’s fingers continuing their slow, teasing glide along your core.

"everything alright, my love?" jeonghan’s voice was sweet, but the mischief in his eyes betrayed his innocence. he knew exactly what he was doing, yet acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. it wasn’t his fault that you walked into the room with a fitted black top that perfectly hugged your body. in fact, you knew he loved it when you wore skirts that flared out with your every move. he couldn’t wait to have you all to himself.

you cleared your throat, shaking your head slightly. “i’m fine, sorry. just a bit under the weather.” worried eyes watched you, but sooner or later, everyone returned to their own conversations. making sure that nobody was paying attention to you, you glared at your boyfriend, who wore a triumphant smile on his face.

jeonghan leaned closer to you, his hands cupping your pussy in the process, making you let out a tiny gasp as warmth flooded your body. “i can’t wait to take you home,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a teasing undertone that made your heart race. his eyes darkened as he stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up

as you slipped into the passenger seat of jeonghan’s car, a rush of excitement roared through you. jeonghan settled into the driver’s seat, and as he turned the ignition, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. he turned to face you, grasping your chin between his fingers to place a soft kiss on your lips. body warm in anticipation at the thought of having him. your body leaned closer to him, settling into his touch. he hummed against your lips before pulling away, “let’s get out of here before i can’t control myself.”

the rest of the car ride was pure torture. traffic flooded the streets, and you grew even more frustrated. jeonghan wasn’t helping as he continued to excruciatingly tease you. his hands sliding between your legs, spreading your arousal around your entrance. your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable from the wetness pooling between your legs. at every stoplight, jeonghan would lean over the console to kiss you with such possessiveness, his hand by the nape of your neck just to feel your lips even closer.

“jeonghan,” you breathed out. “i want you now, please.” desperation lacing your voice, jeonghan couldn't help but groan at your needy state.

“hold on, baby.” as soon as the lights turned green, he hit the pedal and pulled up on the nearest empty lot. “get in the back.” your stomach fluttered at his low voice. thank goddess for his spacious car because you hopped in the back with ease, while he stepped out of the car and followed you into the backseat.

you climbed on his lap the second he was seated. lips colliding with one another. his hands roamed your body, sliding the strap off of your top and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. letting the cloth fall, his lips attached to your neck instantly. one of his hands reaching for your breast, giving it a light squeeze before his fingers took hold of your nipple, circling the bud with his index finger and thumb.

“so fucking beautiful.” jeonghan whispered against your skin before entrapping the other nipple in his mouth. moans escaped your lips as your hand flew out to grip his hair, pulling on the strands, which made him grunt against your breast.

you feel his cock grow stiff beneath you, making you grind your hips against his. he pulled away from your nipple, making a light pop sound, before returning his lips to your mouth. his tongue caressing your lips before pushing it between to meet your tongue. you sighed in contentment, pushing your body towards him even more. you felt his hands pull your skirt up your thighs, your soaked underwear on full display for him.

jeonghan pulled his lips away from you, making you frown. he grabbed the hem of his shirt before lifting it off his body and discarding it somewhere in the car. he lifted your hips so that you were hovering above his legs. “how much do you love this pair?” his tone was mischievous as his fingers toyed with the waistband of your lacy underwear.

“i could always just get a new one.”

“good girl.” he smirked before gripping the fabric with his fingers and ripping them apart. you gasped at his actions, not expecting him to be so rough. his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and satisfaction as he admired his work, the now-torn underwear fully exposing your pussy to him.

“i could’ve just taken them off!” you swatted his shoulder, but he only laughed.

“where’s the fun in that?” his hands made their way to the button of his pants, undoing it before sliding the fabric down his thighs, leaving him in his boxers. his cock strained against his underwear, the tip peeking over the waistband, leaving your mouth watering at the sight. you sat back down on his thigh, hand palming him through his boxers. grabbing the waistband of his underwear, you pulled it down with the rest of his pants. his cock sprang against his stomach, tip red, and veins showing all over. “need to get you ready for my cock, princess.”

jeonghan spread his legs, leaving the space below your pussy open. his fingers reaching for your entrance, making you gasp and rest your head on his shoulder. his digits spreading your arousal through your folds before pushing two of them inside you.

“fuck!” you cried out once you felt him curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly. he knew exactly how to make you feel good. you grind your hips down to meet his hand, desperate for any kind of friction.

jeonghan tutted at your movement, a cocky grin plastered on his face, “so wet for me, baby.” he teased, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a painfully slow manner.

pulling your head away from his shoulder, you glared at him. “jeonghan, please,” you whined, “stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

he chuckled at your plea, pulling his fingers from your cunt and leaning back against the seat. “my pretty girl, so needy for my cock.” he wrapped his hand around his cock, your slick transferring from his fingers to his length as he pumped himself. “c’mere.” he grasped your waist, lining up your entrance to his cock.

jeonghan rubbed the tip along your folds, grasping his shoulders, you slowly sank onto his cock. you moaned at the feeling of his length expanding your walls. he watched as you bit your lip, face twisting in discomfort and pleasure.

“slowly, baby.” his voice soothed you. soon enough, discomfort turned into pure pleasure, feeling his entire cock inside you.

“oh god, hannie.” you whimpered. his hands fell to your ass, gripping the skin as you slowly began to bounce on his cock. he hissed when you circled your hips, your pace getting faster once you got used to his size.

jeonghan helped you by meeting your thrust, lifting his hips to thrust into yours. your nails digging into his shoulder blades as you held onto him for assistance. gasping at every bounce you did as his cock perfectly kissed your cervix.

“you feel so good, pretty girl, fuck.” jeonghan moaned, eyes trained on your breasts as they bounced along with your movement. he brushed your hair away from your neck, exposing the skin to him, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to your chest, sucking and licking the supple skin. toes curling at the sensation, you picked up your pace, relentlessly fucking yourself with his cock. each thrust, leaving you craving more.

jeonghan pulled your body close to him, chests pressing against each other. legs burning from the constant movement, you halted for a second before proceeding to grind yourself on him. his cock deep inside you as you continued to move your hips.

“fuck! i’m so c-close, hannie.” you cried out. rocking your hips in a quick manner. feeling your stomach tighten.

“that’s it, baby,” he whispered, loving the way you’re using his cock to make yourself feel good. his hand reached up to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure. “say you love me, princess.” you gasped as his other hand fell to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. “say it.”

“i-i love you! oh my god, i love you so much.” your face scrunching up from his touch. “please, i want to cum, jeonghan!”

“look at me, and i’ll let you cum.” your eyes locked to him. the moonlight perfectly shining on his face, seeing a smile form on his lips as you tried to keep your eyes open. his finger working on your clit. “my perfect girl, let it out, cum all over my cock.”

as if it was on his command, your vision turned white as you came all over his lap, cursing his name in the process. nearly ripping his skin off as your grip on him tightened. feeling you clench around his cock made him release inside you. his warm cum spreading across your walls.

your body collapsed, head falling on his shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath. feeling his hand lazily dragging itself up and down your back to console you. you cringed at the feeling of fluids dripping out of you and onto the seat of the car.

in one sudden movement, jeonghan lifted your body before thrusting you back down, making you yelp. “keep my cum inside, princess, unless you want me to fill you up even more.”

#yoon jeonghan #seventeen #svt #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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pauline-sunshine · 2 months ago

Text

Suchwidate

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female actress reader

Summary: After being a guest on Suchwita something bloomed

Genre: fluff (like tooth rotting fluff…I warned you), slow-burn (maybe?)

Warnings: they are shy and idiots but kinda adorable

Word count: 1,5k

Author’s note: I apologize for any errors! English is not my first language. Thank you so so much for your comments and likes..i literally cried. Not so happy with this part but I decided to post it anyway. Also, it’s quite unedited, sorry!!

After the Suchwita episode was released the comments section went wild:

‘So we definitely just watched them on a real date trying to act like it’s an interview’

‘They are so grumpy x sunshine coded I caaan’t’

‘My head: they’re performers, my heart: they’re soulmates’

‘If these two ended up together it would be one of the greatest entertainment love stories ever’

‘Pls go on a date without the cameras and fall in love and don’t tell anyone about it and just live happily ever after u both deserve it’

————

Your day was about to be busy as you were invited to the fundraising charity event. That meant waking up at 6 am, getting ready and- ‘Wait, no,no,no, why is it 9 am?’ The grasp of realization, ‘I SLEPT IN’. And just like that the hunger games of getting-ready-and-arriving-on-time began.

“Hey,” you opened the door of your apartment and let in your manager and stylist in.

“Why do you look like…” the woman was unsure what words to use.

“Like I just woke up? Because I did,” you covered your face in embarrassment.

“Y/N, you will be the death of me. Let’s get you ready,” your manager sighed.

Make up and hair were done, it was time to choose un outfit and the selection that was offered didn’t make you happy. You decided to go with an elegant strapless mini black dress.

“I’m not sure,” you were staring in a mirror, “Isn’t it too..revealing?” You wanted to feel comfortable and confident especially on important events like this.

“I think it looks great on you, besides you didn’t like any other dress. So, you kinda have no choice,” the stylist scanned you once again from top to bottom.

“Black dress it is then.” You faked a smile. You were running late and there was no time for tantrums.

Everything seemed to be going wrong at that point: sleeping in, the dress, running late except one little text that you received while driving to the event. It felt like a ray of sunshine peeking through stormy clouds:

Yoongi

Hello, Y/N. Again, thank you so much for coming to my show. The feedback is good. I heard that you were also invited to the charity event. See you there.

You

Heeeey!! hahhah, The pleasure was mine!!! Yes, I will be there too! Didn’t know you were going though…But yeah, see you there!!

‘Why did I have to put so many exclamation marks. Aggghh, Y/N, you’re a certified idiot,’ you thought to yourself.

Yoongi’s body was present and sitting in a big concert hall of the event next to other six members but his mind was elsewhere. He was scanning the crowd for what felt like a hundredth time just in hopes to spot the girl that has been on his mind since the day of the interview.

“Yoongi, what do you think?” Jungkook tried to include Suga to the conversation.

“What?” Obviously he wasn’t listening. He frowned and made a slightly unhappy face as though he was distracted from something important.

“Where are you flying? I said, what do you think— It’s her! Guys, it’s her!” He called attention of the other members while slightly pointing at you across the room.

“What are you talking about,” the irritation in Yoongi’s voice started to rise.

“Look!” Jungkook pushed Yoongi in order for him to turn and at that moment all his worries melted because he saw you.

Obviously, the minute you left the studio that day Yoongi texted to their group chat how professional, talented and kind you were, but they all knew what he really meant behind those words. And now you were interest number one for all of them: they wanted to see the girl who turned Yoongi into a ball of fur.

You were accompanied by a stuff member who was showing you the way. Because (guess what) of the fact that you were late your seat was kinda assigned to other person.

“Is it okay if we sit you right there,” the stuff member pointed to the further part of the sector.

“Anywhere will be fine. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience that I caused you.” One thought was running through your mind: never EVER to be late again.

“Don’t worry, just follow me. Judging by the scheme, there are a few seats left in the second row, next to the band BTS. I’m afraid I can’t accompany you that far because of the cameras but just follow that luminescent line on the floor.”

“What is happening? Where are they taking her?” Yoongi watched as you were passing by other guests and bowing along the way.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Look, I think they’re leading her to…us?” Jungkook tried to reassure him.

“Thank you.” As you turned to say that the stuff member was gone and you were, well, lost. ‘Where the heck is that line? My dress is killing me! Shall I just leave? Second row? BTS? Oh god, am I gonna sit next to BTS?’ The panic was growing inside you.

“I think she’s lost” as Jungkook turned to say that he only saw an empty seat and Yoongi’s back moving further away.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?” A familiar voice on your right brought you back to life.

“Yonngi, thank god, how did you find me. I’m such a mess. I’m so lost. I arrived late and they said I had to change my sit and-“ you were chattering and twisting your fingers because of the nerves.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he gently placed both of his hands on your shoulders to calm you down and bring you back to reality. “What did the stuff member tell you? I will help you to find your seat,” he said in a calm deep voice accompanied by his soft eyes. That moment he swore he would do anything to protect and comfort you.

“Oh, well, he said that there was a seat. In a second row. Next to BTS.” You murmured the last sentence quietly and slightly turning away from him because the feeling of his soft touch on your skin left a blooming blush on your cheeks.

“Then, we have to go because the show is about to start.” That moment he thanked every single deity for this chance to spend time with you although he didn’t show it. He just let go of your shoulders and led you.

“They’re coming! Act cool!” Jungkook ordered to others.

“Say that to yourself,” Taehyung laughed at him.

When you both reached your destination Yoongi introduced you to the boys.

“This is Y/N, my…special friend.” He looked at you and his gaze softened.

“It’s such an honor to meet you guys,” you bowed your head to them and they did the same.

As you and Yoongi sat you noticed Hobi poked out behind Jungkook in order to talk to you. “Y/N, please tell me there is a second season of your latest show. They had no right to end it like that without making an announcement of a sequel!” He whined a little bit.

“Well, my contract doesn’t allow me to talk but maybe there is something coming soon. Or maybe there isn’t,” you laughed a bit. He perfectly understood your hint.

“Ahhhh, I can’t wait,” he smiled being very pleased with your answer.

Yoongi was following every single movement you made while you talking to his friends.

The show began. You and Yoongi sat together and discussed performances and every unfunny joke that hosts made. You both felt how natural it was to be real around each other and that was precious.

“I’m glad you came,” the whispered and subconsciously slightly leaned toward you.

“I thought this would be another dull event but I’m glad I have this awful habit of being late,” you laughed and turned to him. The distance between your faces was small and you noticed how his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and back. Your heart made a backflip and with the speed of light you turned your head back to face the stage. Yoongi slightly chuckled.

The official part of the ceremony was over and it was the time for the after party.

“I see you later, okay? We need to do an interview,” Yoongi explained almost as if he was sorry.

“It’s fine. I also have to find my manager,” you smiled. Neither of you wanted to go but duties are duties. You bowed to all of the seven men and reunited with your manager.

“Are you ready? I have to introduce you to a lot of people.” The manager asked while you both were on the way to the after party area.

“Do I have a choice?” You sighed and only wished to see Yoongi as soon as possible.

#min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts #imagine #drabble

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suiana · 8 months ago

Text

The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere musician #yandere musician x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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f1-mcmuffin · 29 days ago

Note

GIRLL I LOVEE THE 5th MEMBER AU I HOPE U WILL MAKE IT INTO A SERIESS😆😆

I HAVE A IDEA MAYBE WHERE SHE WAS WITH LISA IN THE MIAMI GP

AND MAYBE WHERE LANDO AND THE OTHER DRIVERS AND WAGS WERE ATCHING THEIR CONCERT

I haven’t proofread this, so bear with me. Also I’ve never been to a BLACKPINK concert but I have been to an Ateez concert so I used my knowledge from that.

Sorry, it took me so long to come up with this. I'm trying to work on my other Lando story and keep up with some requests I’ve been receiving

an - updated, i'm trying to wither out the use of (y/n)

Spotlight & Slipstream pt. 2

(Requested) Lando Norris x 5th Member of BLACKPINK Reader

Summary: Lando, the drivers, and the wags go to a BLACKPINK concert

Later in the Day (Barcelona) — Late Afternoon

The golden-hour sun spilled like honey over the cobbled streets of El Born, casting long, lazy shadows over the terrace café. The scent of grilled prawns, espresso, and sunscreen drifted through the air, mingling with the slow rhythm of Catalan conversations and the clink of cutlery. Under a striped umbrella, Lando sat with his chair tipped back, sipping lemonade through a straw as the condensation dripped down the glass.

Across from him, she looked sun-kissed and effortlessly cool — oversized vintage tee knotted at the waist, ripped baggy jeans, Landos’ gold chain glinting against her collarbone. Her sunglasses were pushed into her hair, and she was focused on the last few fries on his plate, stealing them one by one with lazy precision.

“I swear,” she mumbled with a dramatic sigh, “if I eat one more backstage cheese platter, I might lose my mind. Like — why is it always brie? What did cheddar ever do to deserve this slander?”

Lando chuckled around a mouthful of his sandwich. “Guess that’s the glamorous popstar life.”

she leaned forward, her elbows on the table, scrolling through texts from the girls. Her screen lit up with messages from her members.

She looked up suddenly. “Hey,” she said casually, as if it had just occurred to her, “you’ve never actually seen me perform, have you?”

He blinked, wiping chip crumbs off his lip. “What?”

“You’ve never been to a BLACKPINK show,” she repeated, leveling him with a look. “Not even one.”

Lando shrugged defensively. “I’ve seen videos.”

“Not the same.” She made a face. “That’s like me saying I’ve experienced F1 because I played Mario Kart once. Doesn’t count.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay, first of all, Mario Kart is elite—”

She cut him off with a smirk. “Second of all, we’ve got a show in Paris next weekend. It’s sold out. Obviously.” She popped a fry in her mouth and spoke around it. “And I already checked the race calendar. You’re free.”

He tilted his head, skeptical. “You checked my calendar?”

“I checked your calendar,” she repeated. “And I saved space backstage for you, the drivers, the WAGs.”

He raised a brow. “You’re inviting the entire grid to a BLACKPINK concert?”

She shrugged, lips curling at the corner. “They owe me. I sat through seventy-eight laps of engine noise and everyone smelling like brake dust. Time to return the favor.”

Lando leaned forward on his elbows, taking her hand and brushing his thumb over her knuckles before bringing it to his lips. “You sure the world’s ready for that crossover?”

she grinned, eyes sparkling. “Ready or not, they’re getting it.”

Twitter/X;

Yourusername tweeted “Guess who’s coming to next week's concert?🙈”

@speedgirlie

if lando shows up at a blackpink concert in a pink hoodie i’m gonna pass out

@blackpinksbrainrot

SHE INVITED THE F1 GRID TO PARIS 😭 She is INSANE for this. iconic. queen behavior.

@itsjustjord

imagine carmen, kika, and lily in the BLACKPINK VIP section losing their minds to ‘Shut Down’ and then pierre filming it 😭

@grandprixtea

you just know carlos and charles are gonna try to look cool until ‘Kill This Love’ hits and it’s over

@notyourengineer

the crossover we didn’t know we needed — BLACKPINK IN YOUR PIT LANE

@lanprincess

if she performs 'Tally' while looking Lando dead in the eyes… we riot in the streets respectfully

Paris — Bercy Arena, One Week Later

The stadium pulsed like a living organism, humming with neon energy and adrenaline. Pink lights danced along every surface, illuminating the packed sea of fans — thousands of blinking lightsticks swaying in unison like fireflies.

The BORN PINK logo flashed on the screens overhead, looping iconic BLACKPINK videos that the crowd screamed along to with full-volume precision. The bass was deep enough to vibrate through ribcages.

In the VIP pit, directly at the front of the stage, a cluster of very confused Formula 1 drivers looked like they’d accidentally wandered into an alien dimension.

Lando just added to their story

Lando stood front and center, his black hoodie pulled low and a "(Y/N) IS MY BIAS" headband shoved on his curls — courtesy of Kika, who had cackled while strapping it to him in the hotel. His cheeks were already stickered with tiny pastel hearts. He tugged on the sleeves and glanced around, mildly dazed.

“This is… intense,” he muttered, watching fans crying before the show even began.

Carlos leaned toward George, eyes wide. “Why are people already crying? Did we miss something?”

Kika, sitting beside him in a rhinestone-covered jacket, just smirked. “Because this isn’t a concert. It’s a religion.”

Alex nodded in solemn agreement. “It’s like Ferrari and the Tifosi.”

Carlos blinked, gears turning. “Ohhh…” he said, visibly connecting the dots as he scanned the arena. “That explains the screaming.”

Behind them, Charles wore a glittery “Pretty Savage” sash over his Prada shirt and held a Jisoo fan in one hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. George was juggling a tray of mochi and a limited-edition lightstick, eyes wide with amusement. “Mate, we’re in the middle of a K-pop rave.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Carmen grinned, looping her arm around his and tugging him closer. She wore a Lisa tee and matching cat ears — totally unbothered and thriving. “You’re lucky I didn’t make you wear the matching skirt.”

Pierre, in a BLACKPINK bomber jacket he insisted was “borrowed,” bobbed his head in time with Boombayah. Kika was beside him, animatedly teaching him the hand choreo.

“No, no, babe — boom bah YAH, not boom bah yeahhhh,” she shouted over the music. “There’s a difference!”

Meanwhile, Lando was holding up a handful of photocards like poker chips. “Okay, wait—who’s trading?” he said, scanning the group of teenage girls beside them. “I’ve got three Rosés, I want my girlfriend.”

A girl in a pink bucket hat gasped. “I’ll trade you for a Rosé!” She paused, her jaw dropping. “Wait—you’re Lando Norris, right?!”

Lando grinned. “Guilty. And I’m officially a BLINK now.”

Around him, the chaos only grew louder. Charles and Carlos were comparing their photocard pulls like kids in a schoolyard. George was handing out mochi like snacks at a birthday party. Rebecca and Alexandra were having their own photoshoot with the stage glowing pink behind them.

Carmen handed Lando another sticker sheet. “Put this on your cheek. You’re not fully committed yet.”

He groaned but obediently stuck a tiny sparkly heart on his face. “If the McLaren media team sees this, I’m blaming all of you.”

And then — everything changed.

The stadium lights dipped into sudden darkness. A wave of shrieking thundered through the arena, instant and deafening. On the giant screen, BLACKPINK’s latest MV burst to life, and the audience erupted, chanting every line, stomping in time, waving their lightsticks in perfect sync.

Even Carlos, startled by the sheer sound, clapped his hands over his ears. “This is louder than Monza!”

Lando couldn’t look away — the lights, the fans, the way the girls beside him were lit up like teenagers again, dancing with no care for who was watching.

He turned to Pierre, who was still holding his lightstick high like a torch. “We’ve been to Grands Prix around the world, but this—this might be the loudest crowd I’ve ever seen.”

Pierre just smirked and leaned in. “Welcome to the pink side.”

And when the lights dropped, the floor practically shook.

Lando didn’t think. He lifted his lightstick, let out a shout, and joined the storm. Tonight wasn’t about engines or trophies. It was about letting go. About dancing until your voice cracked. About watching the girl he loved rule an arena with a mic in her hand and stars in her eyes and for once, he wasn’t the one being cheered for — and he was totally okay with that.

“BLAAACKPINK”

BANG.

The arena shook as the opening beat detonated through the air like a cannon blast. LED walls erupted in pink lightning, strobes firing off in every direction. Backup dancers stormed the runway in slick, powerful formations, hips hitting each beat like war drums as they stalked toward the main stage. The audience screamed as if the roof was being torn off. Then came the synths—dark, cinematic, venomous. “Pink Venom.”

Lando practically jumped out of his skin. “Oh sh—!” he blurted, flinching as columns of fire exploded from the stage, perfectly timed to the bass.

They appeared—stepping into formation like goddesses summoned from myth, all dressed in varying shades of pure white, glowing under the pink neon floodlights.

She took center stage, her corset catching the light like diamonds. White Givenchy boots, shorts hugging her hips, every inch of her radiating danger and allure. It was elegant. It was lethal. Oscar’s jaw was somewhere on the floor.

Charles slapped Pierre’s chest. “We’re not surviving this.”

“BLAAACKPINK”

They leaned their heads back in sync then strutted to their spots on stage, hair tossed, eyes locked with the crowd, bodies clicking into place like living weapons.

“Kick in the door, waving the coco!” Jennie’s voice slashed through the stadium. The crowd erupted again. Alex physically clutched Charles’s arm. “OH MY GOD.”

Carlos gave a low whistle. “Okay, that’s how you start a concert.”

She moved with a kind of power that didn’t feel learned. It was primal. Her hips hit the beat like they were casting spells. Her face was sharp, magnetic, playful, untouchable.

“This that pink venom, this that pink venom…”

“Straight to ya dome like—whoa, whoa, whoa…”

“Taste that pink venom…”

It wasn’t just her singing. It was the way she devoured the stage, all precision and confidence. When she stepped forward, the earth practically tilted. Charles elbowed Lando, eyes wide. “You didn’t tell us she was like this.”

Lando didn’t blink. “She’s insane,” There was something surreal about seeing her under stadium lights, thousands screaming her name, Onstage, she threw him a wink mid-step like it was nothing, and Lando forgot how to breathe. He leaned closer to Charles, still not looking away.

“She’s different when she’s up there.” Charles just nodded, face slack. He got it.

Then came the outro:

“I BRING THE PAIN LIKE…”

DA-RA-TA-TA, DA-RA-TA-TA-TA—

Fire exploded behind her like a war cry. Carlos jumped six inches off his seat. “She’s LETHAL!” he gasped.

Lando flinched again, instinctively shielding his face from the heat. “Okay, damn,” he muttered. His voice was soft. Reverent. Eyes wide.

Lando turned to George, awestruck. “Why do I feel like I’m falling in love again?” George wheezed. “YOU’RE DOWN BAD, BRO.”

Pierre, mouth open, barely blinked. “That’s her? Your Girlfriend?”

Lando didn’t even answer. He couldn’t look away from the way she rolled her shoulders into a body wave that somehow made the LED screen look too small. Couldn’t believe this was the same girl who wore his hoodie and fell asleep on his chest during movie nights. This was a storm in stilettos.

Fans in the VIP section were unhinged — screaming lyrics, waving lightsticks in choreographed perfection, crying, filming, dancing like it was salvation. A girl beside George was sobbing while holding a her photocard to her chest like a relic.

The song ended. Lights cut to black. Smoke blanketed the stage.

The drivers stood there like they’d just made it through a typhoon.

“That was just one song?” Carlos blinked.

The lights came back, all five girls standing in line, eyes gleaming.

“Hana, dul, set—”

“Annyeonghaseyo, Beullaegpingkeu-ibnida!” they chorused, bowing 90 degrees. Fans went feral. They began introducing themselves one by one, voices warm, laughing, tossing casual hellos in English and broken French. She stepped forward, grinning.

“So…” Her voice curled around the mic like honey. “I have some very special guests here tonight.” The crowd went into immediate buzz-mode.

Some already knew. They’d spotted the lanky silhouettes in the VIP section, the lightsticks trembling near them. The ones trying to blend in but failing spectacularly.

“Let’s give a huge PARIS welcome to the Formula 1 drivers and the WAGS!”

BOOM SPOTLIGHT.

Right onto Lando, Charles, Pierre, George, Oscar, Carlos, Carmen, Kika, Alexandra, Lily, and Rebecca. The camera feed hit the jumbotron. The audience went nuts. They all looked like they'd just been caught sneaking into a girl’s sleepover.

“Please,” she teased, glancing their way. “Don’t be shy. Say hi!”

Charles gave the world's most awkward wave. George gave a deep, exaggerated bow like a theatre kid. Pierre threw double finger hearts, grinning. Lando? Lando shook his head, hiding his face in his hoodie. Bright red.

“Oh, come on,” Lisa pouted, hands on hips. “Landooo.”

The girls start a chant, then the crowd joins in and starts chanting his name. “LAN-DO! LAN-DO! LAN-DO!” It built fast. Unstoppable. The entire arena chanting his name.

Defeated, he stood up, raised both hands like he was being arrested, and gave a sheepish wave.

she laughed into her mic. “Don’t let him fool you. He did try to learn the choreo to ‘Pink Venom.’ I have proof.”

“You said you deleted that video!” He yelled, his hands going to cover his face.

Jennie mock-whispered into her mic, “He was actually really good though…”

The other girls giggled behind her. Lando shook his head in embarrassment.

she smiled, stepping back into formation. “And to all the F1 fans in the crowd tonight — thank you for being part of this world with me. And to my amazing, chaotic, wonderful boyfriend…” She sent him another wink.

Then the music cut in—DUN DUN DUN, DUN DUN DUN-DUN—

Her voice echoed, electric:

“Paris, are you ready for tonight? Let me hear you fucking scream!”

The crowd answered with a wall of noise. A roar that hit like a tidal wave. The night had only just begun.

Kika had both arms raised high, lightstick in one hand, belting out every word like she was part of the lineup. Her energy matched the crowd’s fever pitch — sweat, glitter, and absolute chaos.

On stage, the girls lined up like soldiers — eyes locked, chins tilted, legs set — as the arena held its breath. Then the beat dropped.

“Ha, how you like that?”

“You gon' like that, that-that-that, that, that-that-that, that—”

The crowd detonated. The floor of the stadium shook. Thousands jumped as one, lightsticks pulsing like a galaxy, the sound of the crowd almost louder than the music itself. The choreography was nothing short of assault. Explosive stomps, razor-sharp arm swings, lethal hair tosses — every move landing with sniper precision. It wasn’t dancing. It was domination.

She was a force. Every line she hit, she hit like it owed her something — her face fierce, eyes gleaming, completely locked in. Her ponytail cracked through the air like a whip, her crystal-studded harness catching every flash of light. The energy rolling off her could melt concrete. She spun, hair flying, stomping with every ounce of power she had. The second drop hit.

“Now, look at you, now look at me (uh)Look at you, now look at me (uh)Look at you, now look at me, How you like that?!”

BOOM — fire exploded from the stage in towering flames, illuminating the entire arena. The heat was real. The VIP section flinched in unison. Confetti burst into the air like a cannon, showering down like stardust. Fans were shrieking, sobbing, waving signs and lightsticks like they were trying to fly. A girl next to Charles literally fainted into her friend’s arms — completely out cold. Security was radioing medics, and no one even noticed.

Lando’s mouth was open, unmoving. His eyes wide, glitter reflecting off them. He couldn’t process what he was seeing.

On stage, she hit her final move, twisting with a full body spin, hair flying, legs stomping with raw force. The lights flared behind her, then snapped to black. In that moment, just before full darkness fell, she turned her head, smirked, tossed her ponytail over her shoulder like it weighed nothing, and strutted off the stage.

A delayed, collective scream from the crowd that shattered the air. The drivers just sat there, stunned into silence. Carlos blinked and turned slowly to Charles, eyes wide, “…I get it now.” The stadium lights cut to black.

Then – the bassline of “Pretty Savage” dropped like a cannon blast, vibrating through the floor, the walls, every chest in the arena. The rumble was so deep it felt like it shook bones loose.

Fans screamed like it was Judgment Day. Pink and white strobes sliced through the darkness, pulsing to the beat like the heartbeat of something dangerous. The giant LED screen lit up, flashing in bold chrome letters:

“You better run, run, run.”

“Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh.” she appeared on the big screen, strutting in slow motion, lips curled into a deadly smirk. “Purrr.” Each syllable hit with surgical confidence, mirrored perfectly by the rest of the girls as they emerged one by one from the shadows, owning it like they had claws out.

"BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA."

The place exploded. When she stepped forward for her line, the whole crowd leaned in like she’d cast a spell:

“All my diamonds, they yellow or bright white…”

“Got 'em blind, can't find me, bitch I’m outta sight…”

The camera snapped to her face, full zoom on the jumbotron — she smirked, eyes glinting like danger.

“If you mad, stay mad — we not alike.”

That line punched through the air, dripping with venom and power and the crowd loved it. A fresh wave of screams hit like a tsunami. You could hear girls screaming the lyrics and guys yelling like they were in a mosh pit. Someone threw a boa into the air. Security guards were full-on dancing.

The backup dancers peeled away like a tide parting, and the girls strutted forward, claiming the front of the stage like it belonged to them — because it did. She stepped back into the spotlight. She flipped her ponytail like a whip, eyes blazing. The lights hit just right, casting fire across her crystal harness as she dropped into the chorus choreography like she was forged in it. Every move was violent poetry — sharp, surgical, explosive. Even the tiniest motions were precise. The WAGs? Screaming. Dancing. Spilling drinks. Phones out. Fully obsessed. Kika was jumping like she was at a rave. Lily had slight tears in her eyes. Carmen was shouting every word.

When the chorus hit again — harder, louder, a wall of synchronized power — the girls dropped into their final formation, silhouettes outlined by a wall of blazing lights behind them.

Final pose. Lights out. The arena erupted. You’d think someone won a world championship. People were screaming. Crying. Collapsing into their friends. Charles had a hand over his mouth. Lando looked shell-shocked. Pierre just mouthed “holy shit.” Carlos turned, still stunned, to no one in particular. “…They don’t make them like that in Spain.”

The lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd. A soft pink glow bathed the stadium, delicate as a sunrise. Like the calm before a storm.

“Lovesick girls, lovesick girls…”

Lightsticks lit up like constellations, painting the arena in shimmering pink. Fans screamed every member’s name in a chaotic chorus of devotion. Phones flew into the air to capture the moment.

Their silhouettes appeared.

Like queens descending onto their throne.

As the first beat dropped, smoke curled around their boots, catching the light like magic mist. Spotlights chased their every move — soft and ethereal, like chasing ghosts made of starlight.

Her vocals broke through the air like a velvet ribbon unfurling. Silky. Haunting. Bare.

“yeongwonhan bam changmun eoptneun bange uril gadun love (love)” Endless night, love trapped us in a windowless room (love)

“What can we say? maebeon apado oechineun love (love)” What can we say? Long for love even though it hurts every time (love)

She stood alone at the edge of the stage, framed in silver light, the smoke swirling around her like a secret. Her voice echoed — not just through the arena, but into people. You could feel it.

From the VIP section, Lando leaned toward George, his eyes wide. “Her voice is unreal.” George just nodded, too stunned to respond.

The chorus kicked in, and the stadium shook with unity. Everyone was singing along:

“We are the lovesick girls…”

It wasn’t just singing — it was a tidal wave of voices, thousands of people screaming the lyrics like a prayer. Like a wound.

She reached the edge of the catwalk, twirled with practiced grace, and joined Jennie and Jisoo center stage for the pre-chorus.

“But we were born to be alone, yeah we were born to be alone…”

The beat dropped again — and suddenly it was all movement. Flashing lights, glitter cannons exploding, arms slicing the air. The five of them danced with the precision of soldiers, the softness of ballerinas, the power of a revolution.

“But why are we still looking for love?”

By the final chorus, the lights softened like a sunset. The crowd was swaying now, arms in the air, tears in their eyes. The girls slowed, movements fluid, voices layered in perfect harmony, floating over the crowd like a hymn. She stepped forward for her final line. The others faded behind her. The spotlight narrowed.

“But we’re still looking for love…”

She said it like it hurt but she smiled — a tired, soft, knowing smile because there was something beautiful about that kind of pain.

Silence. One beat. Screams. Applause. Sobbing. Chants. One guy in the pit just screamed into the sky.

She gave a tiny bow, cheeks flushed pink under the lights. She found Lando in the crowd, hands above his head, clapping with everything he had. His eyes were locked on her like nothing else existed, not the music, not the noise, just her.

In the VIP box — Lily, Carmen, Kika, and the rest of the WAGs were frozen. Slack-jawed. Shimmer-eyed. Their boyfriends? Stunned. Like they’d just seen the northern lights for the first time.

George broke it with a yell: “RUN IT BACK!”

Then came that trumpet.

DUN—DUN DUN DUN DUN.

The lights pulsed crimson. The screams were instant. Deafening.

Lando sat forward in his seat as fire cannons exploded in time with the beat. Pierre’s jaw dropped. Kika clutched his arm, eyes wide with shock and delight. Lily was already on her feet, screaming along to the instrumental intro. From the VIP row, even Charles looked stunned.

From the center of the stage, five shadows emerged through a thick wall of smoke, stomping in perfect sync. Black boots. All leather. Heavy belts. Fingerless gloves. High ponytails and sharp eyeliner. Each one looked like a cinematic villainess who could kill you and look flawless doing it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA”

Jennie exploded into the spotlight first, fierce and flawless, her presence larger than life as she delivered the iconic opening line. Her voice sliced through the air, chin high, eyes untamed and wild.

“Cheonsa gateun ‘hi’ kkeuten akma gateun ‘bye’...”

Lily’s voice cracked in disbelief. “She’s not real. She’s not even human.”

Lisa stormed forward next, flowing through the verse like water over a blade. The Korean-English rap twisted through the arena, every line delivered with laser precision.

“Here I come kick in the door!”

She strutted to the edge of the stage, one hand on her hip, the other tossing a middle finger to gravity. The crowd went feral.

Jisoo stepped into the light. Elegant. Deadly. Her vocals were rich and emotional, haunting in contrast to the savage beat. She sang like a goddess of revenge, arm raised toward the sky as if she could rewrite fate itself.

Rosé was next. Her voice soft but dangerous, golden and aching as the chorus approached. She tossed her blonde hair, let it fall like silk down her back, and gave a single, knowing smirk to the crowd before launching into the line that detonated the arena:

“LET’S KILL THIS LOVE!”

The drop hit like a meteor.

“YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH”

The beat exploded like an earthquake, and the five of them stomped forward, falling into the explosive choreography — each hit choreographed to perfection. Loud. Fierce. Like a war anthem.

RUM PUM PUM PUM PUM PUM

The choreography was thunderous — they stomped in unison, every beat of the bass a war cry. Lights strobed. Pyro flared. The crowd screamed the lyrics back with unholy energy. She [==[stepped into the center. The shift was instant, like gravity bent around her. She moved like a queen who owned the world — the glint of her black-and-gold outfit catching every flash of light as she turned her gaze to the sea of fans.

“Feelin’ like a sinner, it’s so fire with him, I go boo hoo,” she rapped, locking into step beside Lisa.

“He said, ‘You look crazy,’ thank you, baby. I owe it all to you.” Lisa rapped

Her body was a weapon — slick with sweat, her neck gleaming as she tossed her hair back, spun, and delivered her next line with a hit to the chest:

“Got me all messed up, his love is my favorite...” She sang with a strong passion.

“But you plus me sadly can be dangerous.” Lisa finished

The final chorus slammed in, and they moved like an army of five. Choreography razor-clean. Faces fierce. The final formation hit like thunder.

“LET’S KILL THIS LOVE!”

The beat dropped one last time, and the stage exploded with flames behind them — five silhouettes framed in fire, standing wide-legged, defiant, unstoppable. The stadium lost its mind. Kika and Lily screamed louder than the girls in the front row. Pierre leaned toward Lando, breathless. “You’re not coming back from that.” Lando didn’t take his eyes off the stage, jaw slack, chest heaving. “I don’t want to.” But he didn’t know what was coming next.

The lights dipped again. Smoke rolled back over the stage like a tide. A hush swept through the crowd — anticipation so thick it felt like thunder waiting to crack. Then came that slow, hypnotic whistle. A crimson spotlight swept across the stage like a hunter’s eye. BLACKPINK re-emerged like phantoms in the dark.

Lisa strutted out first — hips rolling, eyes sharp. Jennie followed, her walk slower, more deliberate, like she was stalking prey. Jisoo’s smirk was laced with poison, and Rosé’s blonde hair flicked like a whip. She stepped out last, wrapped in black lace and crimson mesh. Her thigh-high boots glinted under the strobes, her hair braided back tight with silver chains running through. She didn’t walk — she prowled. Then came the line.

“I’ve been known to kiss and tell…” Her voice was molten. Deadly. “Send girls to wishing wells. If you’re my man, I want you to myself.” She didn’t just sing it — she owned it. Her eyes scanned the crowd like she was choosing a target. “I know I’ll have enemies, as long as you’re into me. But I don’t care—’cause I got what I need.”

Jisoo and Rosé took the pre-chorus, their voices featherlight but dangerous, the calm before a storm. She moved to center as the beat climbed.

“I went crazy over you~~ (ah ah) over you, only you (ah ah)!”

The choreography locked into place — hips snapping, arms slicing, bodies moving with devastating precision. Lightsticks rippled like a sea of neon.

Lisa’s solo verse. The scream from the crowd nearly shattered the sound barrier. She rapped with sensual venom: “Feels wrong, but it’s right, right / Blacked out, no night light…” She stalked the edge of the stage, hair flying, her body a sinuous line of motion. At one point she grabbed her waist and tugged her top slightly down, just enough to make the entire stadium gasp. Jennie’s verse came next — sultry, sharp as glass.

“Boy, by the time I’m done / I won’t be the only one…” She leaned into the camera and grinned like a devil in lipstick. The entire screen behind her turned red.

Rosé’s voice soared over the final chorus. Lisa threw her head back mid-verse. Jisoo winked with lethal charm. She blew a kiss. Right at the VIP box. Straight at Lando.

It was surgical. She twirled, dropped low, and came back up into perfect formation as the final chorus hit like a heartbeat.

The screen behind them shimmered with glitching red florals and black static as they moved into the final dance break — a flurry of hips, precision steps, flowing arms, and rolling shoulders, a seduction in every breath.

Charles leaned forward. “Did she just—?”

“She winked at you last song too,” George added. Lando didn’t blink.

“I know.”

The final beat struck. The lights went out. Lando was still staring at the stage. Grinning, breathless, proud, stunned, and utterly hers.

The lights dimmed again, plunging the stadium into a sea of flickering crimson. A hush swept over the crowd like a tide pulling back, anticipation thrumming through every chest like the moment before a storm breaks. A single piano note echoed then another, flames erupted along the edges of the stage, curling upward like the breath of a dragon. The intro to “Playing With Fire” slithered through the speakers — slow, sultry, dangerous.

Jennie stepped forward, emerging from the shadows like a queen drenched in war paint. Her red leather corset gleamed under the spotlight, high ponytail swinging with calculated precision. She didn’t just sing — she declared.

"Uri eomman mael naege malhaesseo." Her voice sliced through the air like a blade. Controlled. Untouchable. Her hair pulled back into a high pony, red leather corset gleaming under the spotlight. Her voice sliced through the air like a warning.

Then Jisoo moved in beside her — fluid, graceful, her deep voice the kind that haunted and lingered. “Eomma mari kkok majeuljjido molla.” Her every step was poetry with an edge, her eyes locked on the camera like she was telling a secret.

Rosé followed, her blonde hair catching every flicker of the flames. Her voice — all silk and smoke — curled around the next line like it hurt to sing it. “Meomchul su eomneun i tteollimeun, on and on and on.”

Then the beat shifted. Lisa strutted into frame, swagger oozing from every move. She rapped her verse like she owned the planet “Look at me, look at me now, ireoke neon nalaetaeugo.” like the floor belonged to her alone. She pointed into the crowd, smirked, and half the stadium swore she picked them.

“Uri sarangeun buljangnan (oh, oh, oh) my love is on fire (ooh)”

Her voice cut like a blade and soothed like honey, a raw blend of rasp and control that made the air feel heavier. She spun with Lisa, their backs touching as they circled the center of the stage like lions — every move precise, magnetic. In the VIP box, chaos was in full bloom.

George looked like he’d just seen God. “Lando. Is that normal? Like... does she always move like that?”

Pierre didn’t even blink. “I think I stopped breathing.” Kika screamed into her hands. Lily just stood there whispering, “She’s not real,” over and over like a mantra. But Lando? He didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.

He was frozen — elbows on his knees, jaw slack, chest rising fast. Eyes locked on her. It wasn’t just an attraction. It was awe. A punch to the gut and a pull to the chest all at once. Every sway of her hips, every hair toss, every time her hand carved the air like she was painting fire — it all struck him somewhere deep. Somewhere dangerous. That body roll. She smirked straight at him, lips curled, eyes dark with mischief. She hit the move like she’d been waiting for him to look, and he was definitely looking. Lando exhaled like he’d been sucker punched.

The girls dropped into formation. Five silhouettes cloaked in smoke and fire.

"My love is on fire..."

The beat dropped, and they hit the floor hard — one leg bent and the other extended, hair whipping forward like whips. Heels slammed the stage. The impact of their synchronized pose rippled through the entire stadium.

Kika screamed, “OH MY GOD!”

Lando didn’t blink. Couldn’t. His pulse was in his throat. His hands were gripping the edge of his seat. His mouth was open slightly, breath caught mid-air. She was absolutely in her element. Firelight flickered across her skin as she leaned into the final chorus, eyes wild, dancing like she was made of flame herself. She caught his eye again. Just for a second, and winked. He swore the entire world tilted.

The final chorus roared through the stadium. She sang with her whole chest, dancing like it was the last stage she'd ever see. Flames licked at her heels. Sweat shimmered on her skin. Every line she delivered struck Lando in the ribs.

The girls snapped into their ending pose. She stood front and center, arm outstretched like she’d just dropped a match on gasoline. Her expression was unreadable — somewhere between fierce and feral. Her lips parted like she was still catching her breath.

The lights cut.

The crowd screamed. In the darkness, all you could hear were breaths, cheers, and the rapid beating of thousands of hearts, including Lando’s. He leaned back slowly, trying to exhale but failing.

“Mate…” George whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified. “You’re in so much trouble.”

But Lando just grinned, wide and dazed, eyes still on the darkened stage.

“I know,” he said, voice hoarse. “I really fucking know.”

And the stage began to light again — this time with a single spotlight. The solos were starting.

But Lando? He was still sitting there like he'd been struck by lightning. He was already waiting for her to come back.

“Flower”

The stadium lights softened to a pale violet glow, washing over the crowd like moonlight over still water. A gentle breeze, almost imagined, seemed to drift through the air as delicate cherry blossom petals floated across the LED screens — swirling, slow, dreamlike.

Soft, weightless — they drifted across the massive LED screens and fell from above, holographic projections that shimmered like falling stars. The silence was reverent. Sacred. Jisoo emerged alone from the side of the stage.

Her outfit was a breathtaking fusion — a modern reinterpretation of a Hanbok, lilac and silver silk catching the light with every slow, intentional step. Silver hairpins glinted in her dark, flowing hair, which spilled down her back in effortless waves. A sheer train followed behind her, delicate as morning mist.

The first haunting notes of “Flower” played — the unmistakable, delicate “eh-eh, eh, eh” The crowd fell silent. Not out of boredom, but reverence. Kika gasped and gripped Alex’s arm, whispering like she didn’t want to break the spell, “She looks like a literal princess.”

Jisoo began to move — slow, controlled, almost fragile — her hands tracing invisible lines through the air as if scattering petals with every motion. Each flick of her wrist was purposeful. Every step a story. She twirled. The lights flared softly around her like a blooming flower. The crowd, thousands of voices strong, sang along gently — almost respectfully — not daring to overpower her voice but needing to be part of the moment.

From the VIP box, Charles leaned forward, eyes narrowed in focus. “Is this the one with the flower move?” he murmured, a touch of awe in his tone. Then it came — the iconic point dance.

Jisoo raised her hands in that now-famous flourish, wrists twirling delicately in front of her face, her expression caught somewhere between heartache and poise. Graceful. Hypnotic. Her body swayed like a stem in the wind. Each move was intentional, soft but weighted. A woman letting go without ever fully breaking. Pierre, who hadn't looked away once, muttered under his breath, “No wonder TikTok lost its mind.”

As the final chorus rang out, Jisoo knelt in the center of the stage, fingers gently pinching the air like she was holding the last petal of a wilted rose. She let it fall. The lights faded to dusk. The crowd, again, screamed but it was a different kind of scream it was softer, emotional, like they’d all just been let in on something private. Charles, who rarely said much during performances, simply nodded. “She made heartbreak look like art.”

“On The Ground” / “Gone”

The stage dipped into moody twilight, hues of midnight blue and soft gray bleeding into the crowd. A single spotlight glowed like a distant moon, focused on a raised circular platform center-stage. There sat Rosé. Alone, cross-legged, a white electric guitar resting in her lap like an old friend. Dressed in a sleek black and white two-piece — tailored and minimal, but gleaming with subtle rhinestones — she looked like the personification of heartbreak itself. Glittering trails were painted beneath her eyes like tears caught in the spotlight.

The first lonely chords of “Gone” echoed through the arena, and her voice followed — fragile, aching, painfully raw. Like an open letter no one was supposed to read aloud.

Every word felt like a confession.

In the VIP box, Carlos blinked slowly, visibly hit. “Okay… this one’s hitting my soul.”

Rosé closed her eyes as she sang the chorus, her head tilted slightly back. Her voice cracked — not out of weakness, but because it was real. Like she'd lived every word.

Lando turned to Lily, who stood frozen with both hands clasped to her chest, already mouthing every lyric. “She’s your favorite?” he asked gently.

Lily nodded without looking away. “She always will be.”

The song faded into silence, like a sigh. The platform began to lower slowly, fog spilling around its base. The stage pulsed with a heartbeat-like thrum. The crowd stirred.

Rosé reappeared downstage, the guitar now slung across her back. The lights behind her flared white-hot and golden, like spotlights on a runway. She walked forward with slow, deliberate confidence — like someone who had broken, and then learned how to carry every shard.

“Everything I need is on the ground…”

Fans raised their phones, thousands of lights blinking in sync. Rosé’s voice soared, full of longing and clarity, as she poured herself into the bridge. George was swaying with his phone flashlight on, looking completely unironically emotional.

As the final chorus swelled, Rosé made her way to the edge of the stage, kneeling down with one hand outstretched. Fans in the front row reached for her like she was something divine, something rare — and she smiled through her tears, fingers brushing theirs gently. Even Charles, previously the most neutral observer, just shook his head and said, “I get it now. I get the hype.” Lando glanced at Lily again, who had wiped a tear without shame.

“Wasn’t expecting to cry tonight,” he muttered. She smiled through watery eyes. “That’s Rosé for you.” The final note rang out — soft, lingering, bittersweet.

Rosé stood in the haze, bowed once with both hands over her heart, then walked offstage slowly, guitar still strapped to her back.

The lights dimmed. The crowd roared. And somewhere in the noise, everyone realized: they’d just witnessed a masterclass in quiet devastation.

“Money” / “Lalisa”

The stadium blacked out. Not a single light, not a single sound. Just pure silence. A bass drop like a thunderclap. Red strobe lights exploded across the stage like a warning alarm. The iconic beat of “Money” shook the floor, rattling through every ribcage in the building.

Lisa strutted onto the stage like a storm made flesh. Black leather crop top, matching shorts with chrome chains swinging at her hips, knee-high boots that clicked with every step. Sunglasses on. Braids slicked and sharp. She wasn’t just performing — she was declaring war.

“It’s the end of the month and the weekend…”

The crowd detonated and so did the VIP box. Pierre literally stood up like he’d just seen God. “SHE’S INSANE.” Kika, dancing full-body in her chair, screamed, “GO OFF, LISA!!”

Lisa moved like the laws of physics didn’t apply to her — every step precise, every hair flip calculated, every smirk weaponized. She snapped her hips to the beat, crowd wrapped around her finger. Then came the sunglasses moment — ripped off and tossed into the pit as she slid into a perfect split. George clutched his chest. She rose from the floor like a phoenix, hair flying, eyes gleaming, and just as the beat seemed to slow—

“LALISA” dropped. Seamless transition. No mercy.

The visuals on the screen turned gold, flames licked the edges of the stage, and Lisa grinned — a real grin — the kind that meant trouble.

“Lalisa, love me, Lalisa, love me.” She switched to Thai mid-verse and the crowd went ballistic. Flags waved. Fandoms collided. Lisa tore through the choreo like she was born to set fires.

Carlos turned to Charles, voice barely audible over the noise. “I’m scared and obsessed.”

Lisa didn’t miss a single beat. From body rolls to hair whips, from center stage to the edge, she owned it. Total domination. By the time the bridge hit, she’d pulled off a mic drop moment without even touching the mic. One last spin. A wink. A kiss blown to the rafters. She twirled offstage with a strut that could’ve shut down traffic. Her smirk should’ve been classified as a weapon. The crowd lost its mind.

In the VIP box, Lando was blinking like he’d just come out of a trance. He leaned toward Oscar, completely dazed. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oscar just snorted and shook his head. “And you think I’m intense?”

Kika leaned across George, grinning. “Lisa does not come to play.”

Backstage, you could already hear the faint thrum of the final solo building… and the screams weren’t stopping anytime soon.

"You & Me” (Coachella Version)

The lights melted into a soft, smoky hazy blue as fog curled low over the stage floor like a rising tide. A crescent moon appeared, suspended above, glowing silver against the midnight sky backdrop. The arena held its breath.

Jennie.

Dressed in a glittering, crystal-studded mini dress that shimmered like moonlight on water, her hair slicked back in perfect waves, her heels silent as she stepped forward — like she was floating. A dream in motion. A fevered vision no one could look away from.

“I love you and me, dancing in the moonlight…” Her voice was soft, seductive, delicate but deadly — like lace draped over a dagger. Jennie moved like water — smooth, fluid, yet sharp when she wanted to be. Every movement intentional. Every flick of her wrist, every slow roll of her hips, was magnetic. She didn’t need to try.

The crowd began chanting her name between verses like a spell.

“JENNIE! JENNIE! JENNIE!”

She tossed her hair, smirked into the camera, and sang the next line like she was letting someone in on a secret.

The beat dropped and Jennie snapped into full power. Lights pulsed to the rhythm. Backup dancers emerged like shadows circling her, but no one could touch her spotlight. She was pure command — hitting every step, every glide, every shoulder roll with the poise of someone who knew the world watched… and liked it that way.

Lily gasped “This is—this is ART.”

Jennie did a slow spin, dropped into a low dip, and when she rose — lips parted, eyes lidded, breathing heavy — the crowd screamed like it was the end of the world.

Kika, unable to look away, eyes wide with a grin. “Everyone wants to be her. Period.” She had an effect — a silent, slow burn that kept getting hotter the longer you watched.

As the last chorus melted into the bridge, Jennie walked forward — alone again — under the moonlight. The audience swayed with her. She ended with a slow, teasing bow, one hand to her chest, the other extended like she was offering her heart — or maybe daring someone to take it. The lights dimmed. The screams erupted.

Pierre, stunned, barely able to find words, just said, “She scares me. In the best way.”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah. That wasn’t a performance. That was possession.”

The stage reset began. Everyone knew who was coming next.

“Thunder” / “Seoul City”

The stadium lights shattered into flickering diamonds — strobes pulsing like a heartbeat. Then the spotlight hit.

She stepped out wearing a rhinestone-studded mini dress that caught every glint of light, silver platform boots that stomped like authority, and glittering braids piled high, she looked like a Y2K pop goddess summoned from a fever dream. Her mic shimmered under the spotlights — so did she. A row of dancers flanked her like a glam squad of It-girls, and the first beat dropped.

“Got that uh-huh, that uh-huh, Big big uh-huh”

The crowd exploded. Banners waved. Fans shrieked. She didn’t just command attention — she demanded it. She strutted down the catwalk with a smirk that could end wars, flipping her hair, winking straight into the steadicam like the stage was hers — because it was. Her choreography was pure fire: sharp, sexy, playful — the kind of movement that screamed effortlessness while still being precision-cut. She didn’t just move with the music; she was the music.

“Somethin’ a little like thunder, got that make you wonder…”

Every sway of her hips, every body roll, every sly smile left the crowd breathless. She sang live — her voice powerful and sultry, flipping from airy high notes to confident rap bars without breaking a sweat.

“No, you said I’ll never get by. Now look at me I’m so high." Lando jolted in his seat like he’d been struck. Face flushed, lips parted, eyes wide. Pierre elbowed him but got no reaction.

“You wanna know what it feel’s like…”

“It’s like, Got the uh-huh, that uh-huh” The beat morphed, pulsing smoother, darker — and the crowd collectively screamed as "Seoul City" began.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh…”

Lights went soft, pink and violet. Her silhouette curved as she leaned into her mic, slow and seductive. She walked with lazy grace, like a panther. Her voice melted over the beat.

“Give me hug, need your love, touch my thigh, tell me what puts you in that mind” Lando sat frozen, jaw clenched, chest visibly rising and falling.

“I could be, be your prize, pick me up. Flying high, paradise… in Seoul City.” The dancers fell away. The lights tightened.

She was alone again. A single spotlight. And she knelt — on her knees at the very end of the stage. Looking directly at him.

“Would you make me your boss, pretty please? Pretty please, let me ease your mind…” Lando’s hand curled tightly around his thigh.

She sang only to him: “Look at me, can you breathe?” “Ah…” (inhale)

And she leaned her head back, her neck glistening with sweat, the rhinestones of her dress catching like stars. The crowd screamed so loud it rattled the floor. She stayed there — a beat of silence, eyes closed. Lando’s lips parted like he’d forgotten he had them.

“Ah…” (exhale)

She smirked at the crowd. At him. “I could give you life.”

She rose like a queen ascending.

Dance break. Spins. Hair flips. Body rolls sharp enough to kill. Smoke jets burst. Strobe lights went wild. She ended center stage, arms out, head tilted. The screen behind her pulsed once more — then blackout, the entire stadium ROARED. Kika screamed into Pierre’s jacket. Charles and Alex looked shell-shocked. Even stoic Oscar had to sit down. Carmen and Lily shaking their hammerbongs like crazy. And Lando? Lando was gone. Mouth open, heart pounding. Wrecked.

George leaned in, eyes wide. “Mate… you need air?”

Lando blinked once and covered his face. “I need a priest.”

Vivaldi’s “La Campanella” rang through the stadium, its sharp strings plucking ominously, slow and deliberate—like a warning. The crowd roared in recognition, screams piercing through the hush that followed. The lights flickered once. Twice. Then the bass dropped.

The stage exploded in pulsing white strobes and swirling smoke. Trap beats thundered through the arena, shaking the floor. The screen came to life with glitching chrome graphics, and through the haze, five silhouettes emerged.

“Keombaegi anya tteonan joek eopseunikka—” Jennie’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

The five of them stalked forward in a clean, synchronized line, their steps heavy and deliberate. Final boss energy. The crowd lost it — banners shaking, fans crying, phones in the air.

Lando was frozen. His jaw clenched, eyes tracking only one person on that stage.. She didn’t even look at him, not yet but she knew he was watching.

“Stay in your own lane cause im bout to swerve. Catch me when you hear my McLaren go vroom, vroom, vroom” She changed the lyric and the staduim heard it. Lando’s jaw actually dropped. A full beat of silence before he caught himself and tried to play it off, swallowing a grin. Carlos slapped his chest.

She smirked into the camera, sweat glistening on her temple, eyes locked in, spinning into another sharp move like she hadn’t just turned a stadium into rubble. Fans screamed. Carlos slapped Lando's arm as Lando tried to play it cool. “She just said McLaren, Mate.”

“She’s ridiculous,” he whispered. Lando was already leaning forward. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, eyes fixed on her like he’d been hit by a damn spell. She was locked in — sweat glistening at her hairline, muscles flexing as she spun, popped, dropped. A goddess with a vengeance.

“When we pull up you know it’s a shutdown…” Lisa exploded into her verse, her ponytail snapping like a whip. Jennie strutted to the side, gun-loaded in leather and rhinestones. Jisoo followed, eyes cool, moving with icy precision. Rosé twirled into a glow, her voice soaring.

“Whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it…”

Jisoo came in next, her vocals ethereal but cool as ice. She twirled and landed into formation like it was effortless. Her eyes flicked over the crowd as if to say, Bow down.

Rosé’s voice rang out crystal-clear, fingers gliding through her wavy hair as she hit a spin and sent the mic up to the sky. Then all five of them lined up.The chorus dropped.

“Shut it down, BLACKPINK in your area…shut it down BLACKPINK in your area”

The chorus slammed in like a hammer. Hips snapped, arms sliced, boots thundered across the stage. They were choreo monsters — no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just raw, weaponized artistry.

“Keep talkin’, we shut you down.”

The lights cut. A flicker of flame — dollar signs scrolling across the screen, slow pink fire curling from the corners. The bassline growled like a beast waking up.

A spotlight cracked open. “Typa Girl.”

Rosé emerged first, her chrome corset throwing reflections across the crowd like shattered glass. She prowled forward, her gaze slicing through the fans. Every syllable had bite.

“Typa girl that’s gonna make you wanna dream…”

Lisa took over next, hair sleek and straight, dressed in an elegant deconstructed blazer with diamond-cut slits at the waist and boots that clicked with power. Her delivery was chill and sly, a smirk curving her lips as she sang,

“Typa girl that come straight up off the screen…”

The dancers moved around them in clean, sharp patterns, letting each girl have their moment while matching their tempo. Lights flashed red and gold in rhythm with the beat.

Jennie stepped into the spotlight next, loose waves flowing, a glittering fringe top catching every bit of light. Her voice rang out clear and strong.

“Typa girl you wanna ice up, make me freeze…”

Jisoo took her verse next, dressed in black leather and rhinestones, moving like she owned the entire universe. Her delivery was fierce, unapologetic, her voice snapping over the beat.

“You the typa girl you wanna wife up, sign the pre…”

She stepped forward.

Hair up in a high, sleek braided ponytail. Wearing a custom hot pink crop jacket over a bustier, chains dripping from her belt, and heeled boots laced with silver. She smirked before her mic even touched her lips — she knew what she was about to do.

“I bring money to the table, not your dinner. Both my body and my bank account, good figure…” She popped a hip, flicked her braid, The crowd lost it. And so did lando

She rapped and sang effortlessly, snapping her fingers with the beat, hips rolling, eyes flicking toward the VIP section with a wink. Lando didn’t even try to play it cool — he was already clapping above his head, yelling something completely inaudible.

“I’m the typa girl that make you forget that you got a type— Typa make you love me when the only thing you’ve done is like…”

Fireworks exploded from the stage. A wall of smoke and pink lights flashed behind them. Fans were screaming, singing along, sobbing — all at once.

Carmen was yelling in pure joy, arm around Lily, both of them mimicking the choreo with near-perfect accuracy. Kika was recording on her phone with her other hand, spinning in a circle and shrieking. “THIS IS A WORKOUT,” Carmen yelled.

Lando had a big, goofy, lovesick smile smeared across his face like he’d just seen the divine.

As the song came to its end, each girl hit their final pose — She at the front, winking over her shoulder, her breath heavy but her grin wide. The crowd erupted. She flipped a lock of hair out of her face, panting slightly, and looked directly at the VIP row. Lando, still clapping like an idiot, smiled at her like she’d just invented the sun.

The stage turned dark.

Then—

A sharp flicker of neon pink and deep crimson, followed by a BOOM that echoed through the stadium like a detonation. The LED screens blazed alive—swirling diamonds, liquid fire, and smoke curling with menace. The bass dropped like a threat.

“BLACKPINK!”

The girls appeared like a storm.

Lisa emerged first, stalking across the stage in glittering chrome and black buckled boots. Her high ponytail whipped behind her like a weapon. She pointed at the crowd with a smirk, turned, and strutted—power incarnate.

Jennie followed, swathed in a sharp corset two-piece with long gloves and a mini-cape slicing the air behind her. Her eyes were locked forward, cold, confident, carved from pure fire.

Jisoo shimmered next, draped in deep blood-red, her slit dress revealing just enough to tease, chains dancing at her hip with each movement. She was elegance dipped in danger.

Rosé flowed in like a melody—her glittery mesh set catching the lights like stardust, blonde waves bouncing, gaze playful. She winked at the crowd, a gentle promise of incoming chaos.

And finally, she emerged in a custom jet-black bodysuit with hot pink embroidery cutting down her sides, sharp cutouts at the waist, and thigh-high boots that owned the floor. Her long hair was down, slick and wild, and her eyes—those eyes—scanned the arena like she was hunting.

The crowd screamed so loud it shook the stadium.

“Hit you with that ddu-du ddu-du du,”

All five snapped into formation. The choreo was deadly — sharp angles, full control, like a weapon honed for war. Up in the VIP section, Lando’s jaw actually dropped. Carlos leaned over. “You okay?” Lando didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the stage, and more specifically. She moved like thunder and silk. The way her hips hit each beat, the whip of her hair, the sheer command—he wasn’t watching his girlfriend perform. He was watching a goddamn phenomenon. Then the second verse hit. Lights shifted. The bass curled low and heavy, seductive.

Lily leaned toward Lando, yelling over the music, “YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS ABOUT TO GO OFF!”

Lando turned, confused—until she stepped forward.

“I’m getting money by the hundreds. All my GQ’s spread like hummus. Bullshit for the birds that are coming. I’ma say that shit again — I’m the mail, I run it. Drop that like you got a hot track, so you wanna knock that, got another banger. Real talk, I’ma let the Os talk. You can see the billions, better call a banker.”

The way she hit her lines faster than the backtrack — every word dripping with venom and velvet — had even the security guards vibing. She shot a quick smirk to the VIP section mid-verse, eyes finding Lando.

Lando forgot how to breathe. Carlos swore under his breath. “Mate,” Carlos muttered, “I think you just blacked out.”

When the song ended, they struck their final pose — five icons, backlit in flame and glitter, breathless and proud.

People screaming, phones up, WAGs dancing like backup dancers, Carmen and Lily losing their minds, Kika shouting along like she was on stage herself. Fans sobbed, jumped, chanted. The floor shook.

He was still staring at her. his hands mid-clap, lips parted in awe. A man was completely ruined in real-time.

She flipped a lock of hair out of her face, chest heaving slightly as she turned her head toward him again. She knew.

In that moment, there was no denying it: BLACKPINK had just obliterated the stage.

Then came the opening chords of “Tally.” The crowd roared in recognition — slower, sultrier, unapologetically defiant. Smoke curled across the stage floor. The lights dimmed into a moody violet haze, shifting to deep pinks and blues. The girls moved in closer, their silhouettes bold and sharp.

She stepped forward. Eyes locked on Lando. Her voice dropped smooth, velvet, and venom:

“I say F it when I feel it, ‘Cause no one’s keeping tally. I do what I want with who I like—”

She dragged her gaze across the crowd, then right back to Lando — holding it this time, firm and unblinking.

“I ain't gon' conceal it. While you talking all that shit, I’ll be gettin’ mine, gettin�� mine.”

She didn’t just sing the line. She delivered it like a dagger wrapped in silk, her mouth curling into a smirk, that wicked glint in her eye daring him to flinch. Lando’s breath hitched. For a moment, he forgot there were 50,000 people between them. It felt like she was singing to no one else.

Next to him, Carlos snorted. “She’s really letting you have it, bro.”

Lily was already filming him. “I need your reaction for the group chat,” she whispered, gleeful. She pivoted out of frame as Lisa slid forward, eyes cool, smile sharp.

“Don’t apologize for my behavior— If you’re offended, I don’t care.”

The crowd screamed the next line before she even hit it, thousands of voices yelling in sync, vibrating through the air like gospel. The girls weren’t just performing — they were testifying. As the track faded into its final echo, the beat of “Boombayah” dropped like a lightning bolt and chaos reigned. Lights strobed gold and fuchsia. Pyro exploded at the sides of the stage. A wild party anthem reborn — the ultimate encore.

BLACKPINK went off.

They danced with pure, uninhibited joy, hair whipping, outfits shimmering, owning the stage like queens at the end of a world tour. Backup dancers flooded in. Confetti blasted into the air. The jumbotron spun wild shots of the crowd losing their absolute minds.

She grabbed Jennie’s hand and twirled her with a laugh, then bumped hips with Rosé. Jisoo grinned as she leaned into Lisa, who hit a final freestyle pop move that made the dancers lose it. The energy was electric — all five of them glowing like they’d just stolen the sun.

Lando was grinning without realizing it, eyes glued to She the whole time. She was laughing, sweat shining on her brow, eyes alive. She looked… free.

Not the composed, mysterious icon the press usually showed — but a girl on fire, dancing with her sisters, with no care in the world except the moment she was in.

As the final chorus roared out —

“LET’S GO, LET’S GO” they struck their last pose. Fireworks detonated behind them in a rainbow of sparks. The crowd went feral. She bowed low, one arm sweeping with flair, then popped up with a wink to the crowd — and one last glance toward Lando. He clapped slowly, arms crossed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

“She told you,” Carlos said, nudging him.

“She performed it at me,” Lando muttered, lips twitching.

Lily was still filming. “How do you feel about being the muse for BLACKPINK’s soft diss track era?”

Lando said, grinning now. “Turned on and in shock.”

“You looked like you were about to propose mid-verse,” Carlos teased. Lando rubbed a hand over his face, watching her on the jumbotron as she waved to fans and blew kisses. His chest felt tight with something he couldn’t explain — pride, awe, a little bit of fear. That woman on stage? She was a force of nature. And she was his.

As BLACKPINK made their final waves and bowed one last time, the lights dimmed, the confetti still raining, and the crowd chanted their names like a prayer. Lando didn’t move until they were fully off stage and even then, he was still staring, heart hammering.

BACKSTAGE – MOMENTS AFTER THE SHOW

The moment BLACKPINK disappeared behind the curtain, the chaos flipped — stage thunder swapped for backstage electricity.

Hair stylists ran forward with towels and water bottles, managers called out instructions, and camera crews scrambled to capture the afterglow. But the girls? They were buzzing. Sweaty, glowing, laughing — still riding the high.

She tore off her mic pack, tossing her hair back as Lisa grabbed her by the waist and spun her in a half-circle.

“We ATE,” Lisa shrieked and jumped up and down.

“Obliterated.” Rosé was breathless, hugging Jisoo as they both burst into giggles.

The dressing room doors flew open.

“THAT WAS INSANE,” Kika yelled first, practically charging in with Lily right behind him.

Rosé was mid-sip of coconut water when she froze, eyes lighting up. “Wait— are those the drivers?!” Jennie turned first, arms up like a champ. “Where’s my trophy?!?”

“Yo!” Lisa spun around in her chair, glowing with post-show adrenaline, and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Charles. “You’re the Ferrari guy. I watched Drive to Survive.” Alex laughed.

Charles did a dramatic little bow. “And you’re Lisa. I watched you end lives on stage just now.”

It was a collision of worlds, and it was glorious.

Jennie, regal even with a towel over her shoulders, raised an eyebrow and looked up at George. “Which team are you?”

“Mercedes,” he said smoothly, offering a hand. “Big fan. Huge.”

Jisoo giggled, “You guys all look like you came from a Bond movie.”

“Right back at you,” Pierre murmured, half in awe, half definitely already crushing.

Lisa, eyeing Carlos, tilted her head. “And you’re the funny one.”

“I knew she’d like me,” Carlos whispered behind his hand to Lando.

Meanwhile, she was slipping out from a side corridor, fresh from a quick change into loose black sweatpants, a cropped tee, and her hair still damp at the ends. She hadn’t even seen Lando yet—until she turned the corner and froze. He was already watching her. She looked tired but alive, radiant in that post-performance glow. Their eyes locked.

For a moment, everything else blurred. Shewalked up, quiet, smiling. Lando didn’t say anything. He just opened his arms and she walked right in.

No words needed — he wrapped his arms around her, tucked his face into her neck, and breathed. She smelled like vanilla, sweat, and stage fog. She was laughing softly against his collar. “I destroyed you a little bit out there,” she murmured.

He pulled back just enough to grin at her. “Yeah. But like, in a hot way.”

She rolled her eyes, kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“You’re my favorite member.”

“You’re just saying that because I looked straight at you during Tally.”

“You gutted me during Tally.”

They laughed, and just like that, the storm of cameras and cheers and chaos faded around them.

LATER – POST-CONCERT DINNER

A private restaurant in downtown Paris.

The kind of place tucked between cobblestone alleys and centuries-old shutters — where the windows glowed gold, the wine list had no prices, and the laughter could be heard from the street.

They’d taken over the back room, of course — one long wooden table under warm hanging lights, plates of charred bread and creamy burrata, glasses filled with deep red wine and sparkling water. The afterglow of the concert still hung in the air like perfume. Makeup a little smudged, heels half-kicked off, voices soft and easy now.

BLACKPINK x F1. It felt surreal, like a crossover episode no one saw coming.

Lisa was mid-rant, waving her fork like a conductor. “Okay, but LA traffic is not just bad. It’s psychotic. I had one guy try to side-eye merge through me—”

George held up a calming hand. “Alright. Clearly, you need proper driving lessons.” Lisa narrowed her eyes. “Are you offering? On a track?”

“You know what?” George shrugged with a grin. “Yeah. I am.” Lisa leaned back, smirking. “Bet.”

Jennie, in a silky black dress and an oversized blazer that somehow made her look even more intimidatingly cool, was leaned in close to Lily, snorting with laughter as they compared their most ridiculous airport looks. “No, no, wait,” Jennie said between giggles, scrolling through her camera roll. “This one. It was 5 AM and I wore pajama pants with heels. The customs guy looked like he wanted to cry.”

“Iconic,” Lily grinned, stealing a fry from Oscar’s plate.

Rosé and Charles were at the end of the table, completely absorbed in a heated debate over sad girl anthems.

“Phoebe Bridgers,” Rosé said, swirling her wine.

“Lana Del Rey,” Charles argued. “Pure emotional devastation.”

“She’s depression in a dress, sure,” Rosé conceded, “but Phoebe is like a heartbreak stabbing you slowly with a glittery spoon.”

Carlos stood up suddenly, half-drunk on red wine and vibes. He raised his glass with a flourish.

“To BLACKPINK — legends, icons, heartbreakers." he turned dramatically toward the middle of the table, "Thank you for making our dear Lando spiral in real time on camera." He motioned to her.

The table erupted. Kika almost spit up her drink. Pierre nearly choked. Lisa was pounding the table in laughter.

Lando just launched a cloth napkin at Carlos’ head. She just smiled, glowing, cheeks flushed with warmth and wine. She leaned back in her chair, elbow resting lightly on Lando’s. “He’ll recover,” she said airily, taking a slow sip of her wine, “eventually.”

Lando leaned closer, voice low just for her. “Barely.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass, eyes dancing. “Still not over Seoul City, huh?”

“You aimed that whole verse at me, don’t even lie.” She smirked. “I’m not even mad about it.”

“I know,” she said softly, gaze drifting down to his lips for half a second. “That’s why it worked.”

Their knees brushed under the table again. Neither of them moved away.

When the bill came, there was a brief, chaotic moment where the girls protested, reaching for clutches and tapping phones. But the drivers were already ten steps ahead.

Pierre and Kika took care of Jisoo, who tried to argue once before Kika waved her off with a, “Don’t even try, babe.”

Carlos and Rebecca cover Lisa, who raised a brow. “Look at you, all gentleman-y.”

Charles and Alex handled Jennie’s, despite her muttering something about “highway robbery” for a round of oysters.

George and Carmen waved Rosé’s card away, George bowing dramatically. “Artists should be spoiled. It’s in the Geneva Convention.”

Lando picked up the bill, card already in the folder, before she noticed.

She turned toward him, brows raised. “You didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said, voice low and sincere. She laughed under her breath, nudging his knee again. “I love you”

“I love you, too” he said, eyes soft now, his hand brushing hers under the table — a touch so quiet no one else noticed and in the low hum of the room — wine buzzed and heart-light — She looked at him like she finally saw it. This boy, who always laughed the loudest and looked like sunshine, was also the one who looked at her like she hung the stars.

Paris after midnight was made for secrets and softness.

The streets had emptied, the night warm with the kind of breeze that lifted curls and carried perfume. They walked side by side, just the two of them now, drifting slowly through the city like they had nowhere else to be.

He held her hand — not tight, not possessive. Just a gentle, open-threaded kind of touch. Like he was afraid if he let go, the moment would disappear. She didn’t pull away. They turned a corner near the Seine, the river glittering like spilled starlight beneath the bridges.

“You were something else tonight,” Lando said, voice quiet. “Completely irresistible”

She smiled slowly, cheeks flushed, eyes warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only about you,” he murmured.

They stopped at the edge of the bridge, the kind with cast iron rails and lovers’ locks from years past. Paris spread out before them like a painting. The air was sweet with lilacs from a nearby florist’s cart, abandoned now for the night. His hand rested lightly on her waist. The city hummed around them, but it felt like they were wrapped in something quieter — something just for them.

She leaned in slowly, the space between them collapsing like it was always meant to. Her lips brushed his — barely at first. A whisper of a kiss, then deeper, warmer. His hand slid up to cradle her jaw, the kiss slow, reverent. There was no rush. No need to perform. Just the quiet, aching honesty of two people choosing each other.

When they pulled back, her eyes were glassy with starlight.

“Wanna head back to the hotel?” he asked, voice thick with something he didn’t have a name for yet. She nodded, her fingers finding his again. Under the watchful moon, with the cobblestones clicking beneath their steps, they walked — slow and tangled, not quite ready to let the night go. It wasn’t just Paris that was beautiful. It was them — in the softest version of forever, unfolding one heartbeat at a time.

They had just stepped into their hotel suite, the door clicking shut behind them with a soft thud. Lando’s jacket was off and tossed on the back of a chair. She was already reaching up to untwist her hair, letting it fall like silk down her back. Neither said a word at first. There was no rush. No need to fill the quiet. Not after tonight.

Lando just leaned against the wall for a second, watching her. The makeup was smudged at the corners of her eyes now, her lips a little faded, and she was still the most electric thing he’d ever seen. The echo of her voice — her presence — still vibrated somewhere inside him.

“You okay?” she asked softly, catching his gaze.

He let out a slow breath, as if finally exhaling everything he’d held in since the first second she stepped on that stage.

“No,” he said honestly. “You wrecked me.”

She smiled, walking over and setting her shoes by the door. “Lando—”

“You don’t get it,” he cut in, pushing off the wall. “I’ve seen you angry. I’ve seen you tired. I’ve seen you in sweats at home.. I’ve seen you fight for what you want, disappear when things get too loud, light up when you're in your element…” He stepped closer. “But I��ve never seen you like that. On stage. You were—” he shook his head, almost frustrated. “You were magic.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that. Not all of it. He gently took her hand and laced their fingers together. “Come here,” he said, voice low, pulling her toward the balcony.

Outside, the air was cool, a light breeze fluttering the sheer curtains. The city sparkled like it was wearing diamonds. The streets had quieted now, and it felt like they were floating above the world.

She leaned on the railing, arms crossed gently, and Lando came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. They stood like that for a while — skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat — the kind of silence that felt full rather than empty. She turned her head just slightly, and their cheeks brushed.

“You know,” she whispered, “I was nervous.”

Lando’s arms tightened a little around her. “Why?”

“It was your first time seeing me like that. On stage. I didn’t want you to feel like I was… someone else.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You weren’t someone else,” he said, quiet but certain. “You were more of you. All the fire and steel and softness. I just… got to see all of it at once.” She blinked slowly, heart suddenly thudding in a new way.

“You talk like you’re in love with me,” she murmured.

“I am,” he said, no hesitation. “Kinda feel like I have been for a while.”

She turned fully now, her hands resting gently on his chest, his thumbs brushing soft circles against her waist.

There was no dramatic music. No fireworks. Just the city, and their breath, and the way he looked at her like she was it. The whole answer.

“Lando…” she started, but he kissed her before she could finish — slow, tender, like a secret passed between them. When they finally pulled back, her hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, she smiled softly.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

He rested his forehead against hers, laughing under his breath, full of disbelief and something deeper. “You think?”

She grinned, lips brushing his. “Pretty sure. Might need another kiss to confirm.”so he kissed her again — longer this time, hands cradling her face like she was something holy.

They didn’t go back inside for a while. Just stayed there, wrapped in each other, the city below and stars above, suspended in the quiet that only love can hold.

Lando just made a post

@/Lando

❤️ 3.9M 💬 25.1k ➤ 394k

Lando First time seeing her on stage. Might've fallen harder than I already was. still trying to recover

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc bro we told you not to fall in love with a pop star 😭 good luck

@/Landohitsdiff she looked at you ONCE during “Tally” and you handed over your soul AND your credit card

@/jennierubyjane 👀😎

@/lisafromthetrack "still trying to recover" and she hasn't even posted HER pics yet. Rookie mistake

@/BLACKPINKgoesvroom she bobied the stage, bodied you, and still looked good going it 💅 icon

@/(y/n)updates he's whipped. we won

@/formulaladsdaily it's giving "she steps on me and I say thank you" we support it

@/User 1 not this F1 man turning into a groupie 💀 sit down lando

@/landoismyhusbandlol you know what? I ship it. painfully. aggressively. With my whole chest.

@/georgerussell63 Still recovering? Mate, you haven’t spoken in full sentences since her second verse 💀

@/pinkgridcanon I’ve seen ships with less chemistry get full novels. WHERE IS OUR FANFIC 👀

@/thegridshipper I was here for pole positions, now I’m here for soul positions. They’re ENDGAME.

@/Landofangirl444 she's mid, y'all just like her cause she's dating him. no stage presence, just snarky attitude

@/randomrbrfan69 another driver distracted by a pop girl 🙄 focus on the car maybe?

@/mimisleftboot she stomped in those thigh-highs and we all felt it. lando included 😌

@/jisooforpresident he’s living every fanfic writer’s dream and I’m just here eating cereal

@/Rosescreens nah but you looked in love. like…eye-twitching, stomach-flipping love.

@/landoisours we lost him to the sparkle boots and villain eyeliner 💔

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Hope y'all enjoyed, now I can sleep stress free 😭💕

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