#and picked up singing and music and writing

[novvabee]

The Boys in the Band

AN: I got carried away with this one, but here is the second part to the band au

word count: 2.8k

cw: language? there is nothing really bad about this one.

Since your first show, you had been quite busy. You had opened for a couple bands at The Common Room, you booked a few nights at the popular club, The Hog’s Head, and managed to snag a spot in another festival. You had become popular very quickly amongst the girls, gays, theys, and young people in the city. Each gig you noted more and more fans, crowds growing, singing so loud and dancing so hard. 

This is what you always dreamed of, performing and making people happy. You lived for the drama and theatrics of it all, dressing up on stage and singing your heart out. The girls felt the same electricity, the same passion as you. That made your bond as a group that much stronger.

Not to mention, you were all good friends. Lily had mentioned to you that she and Mary had been messing around and found out they actually sounded really good together. Then they asked Marlene if she would play drums, which she said yes to in a heartbeat. And then Lily realized they needed a front woman, someone who could sing and bring the most energy. She thought of you, your bold and fierce attitude, your flirty and fun personality. And that is how you started.

The four of you wrote all the music you performed; the fun and girly songs by Mary, the campy over-the-top songs about women by Marlene, the sad and slow ballads by yourself, and the thought provoking and experimental ones by Lily.

Mary had the upbeat, girly, pop songs down. Her personality just flowed with inspiration for them, so those were the types of songs that you mostly sang and performed. You weren’t complaining, her songs were half the fun.

Marlene was full of something you all liked to tease her about; lesbian angst. But all that angst made for great songs to perform and were usually the crowd favorites.

Lily was slightly different, she was full of thoughts and ideas about the world, and her medium to get them out of her brain and into the world, was through music and lyrics. She wrote a lot of songs for women, for rights for all and for political change. If you had to pick, you would say hers were by far your favorites. She didn’t write often, but when she did, she had a message, something to say. You loved that about her.

Your songs were all ballads and sad. The girls teased you about that too, saying you shouldn’t let a man make you cry. It wasn’t exactly your fault, you had just gotten out of a long term relationship, and were drawing inspiration from all the confusing, mixed feelings that came with that. 

You had been dating this boy, Matthew, for about a year and a half, but everything seemed to take a turn for the worse a couple months ago. Your once sweet and charming boyfriend had turned into this cold, vacant man right in front of you. You two argued all the time, about small things as well as very important, serious things. He started accusing you of sneaking around, hiding things from him, cheating on him. None of it was true, and you tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.

So you had enough. You told him that if you two couldn’t work things out, you didn’t know if you could continue on. He said nothing, just agreed with you. He didn’t try to mend the broken relationship, didn't try to fight either for you or with you. You would’ve taken either, but he just walked away.

As much as you tell yourself you’re doing so much better, that you have moved on and don’t care about him anymore, that isn’t exactly true.

You leaned into the band to distract yourself, putting everything you had in it so that you wouldn’t be left with those feelings. You’re just glad you had your friends, your girls who not only could help you through it, but also help you see this band through. They ignited you.

You felt that way even just sitting on the floor of Mary’s apartment. The space was cute and cozy. You girls were sprawled out over fluffy rugs, a plush couch, and two oversized bean bags. 

Mary was nodding her head along to a beat that only she could hear, writing down what you could only guess were new lyrics. Lily was strumming a tune she had been working on for over a week. You and Marlene were talking about what to wear for your upcoming show. 

“I think you'd look good in that pink leotard with the matching cowgirl boots.” Marlene recommended.

“The pink tassels or the pink heart?” you asked.

She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “The tassels, that way you can wear the boots and maybe a cowboy hat,” she paused looking at the other two, “maybe we can try out Pink Pony?”

Excited, you clapped your hands together. You had been dying to perform this new song in front of a crowd and this was the perfect opportunity. You were playing at The Common Room again, but this time it was only you. Unlike every other performance you had, this time there were no openers, and no one else after you. You got a whole set for yourselves and the whole night to perform and party with fans.

The night was going to be nothing short of magical.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James followed Remus and Sirius into the stage door of The Common Room.

All three boys wanted to come and see the performance that The Pixies were giving tonight. They had gained a lot of traction recently, seemingly overnight.

James didn’t feel at all jealous or threatened, they were doing just as well themselves, and they made entirely different music. He was more curious as to the fact that this band came out of nowhere.

The Marauders were used to competition revolving around the music world. They had been doing this for a while now, they understood the fight to fill spots and book sets. This band was just another contender now.

James was more frequently used to The Snakes stealing their gigs or spots in festivals, but now even they were pushed aside for this new band. The Snakes was led by Sirius’s little brother Regulus, another person on the list James hadn’t spoken to in a while. James knew that Regulus was a grudge holder, hell, he was related to Sirius, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Regulus cut all contact.

He fucked up, he knew he did. But he still wasn’t ready to think about it.

Slipping through the crowd and continuing to follow as best he could, all three boys ended up in the back of the already packed room. 

“Holy shit,” Sirius began, “there are so many people. How much were tickets?” He asked Remus.

Remus answered with a head shake. “Don’t know, Lily told me to come in through the back door so we wouldn’t have to pay.”

James’s stomach sunk, maybe he shouldn’t have come. Lily didn’t even invite him, he just tagged along with Remus. But, she had to have known that would happen, right? The boys didn’t do anything or go anywhere without each other.

“Oh my god! Hi,” came a voice from a girl to his right. “You’re The Marauders right? I love you guys. I’ve been to, like, a bunch of shows.” James recognized this girl. She was always front row or close enough, always giving Sirius a look that showed she wanted to fuck him, or at least become a groupie. “Could I get a pic?” she asked.

Sirius smirked. “Course you can sweetheart.” he said while she handed her phone to someone she was with. She stood between Remus and Sirius for the photo, then thanked the boys, obviously wanting the interaction to continue. 

James did not. He would look like such an asshole taking pictures with fans at Lily’s show.

The thought was cut short when the house lights dimmed and the stage turned a hazy pink color. James lost every thought in his head when you came out on stage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Walking out onto the stage, you were met by a wall of sound, cheers and screams. Your nerves and butterflies instantly fluttered away. This is where you were meant to be, up here on this stage, in front of a crowd, making music. You had dreamed of this since you were a little girl.

You pranced yourself out in a cowboy hat and high heel boots, a matching sparkly and intricately tasseled leotard to top it all off. Your ass may be out, but that was the fun of it, the aesthetic. Especially for the new song you had prepared for the night. 

“Hello my friends.” you said, the cheers and screams somehow getting even louder. “We are The Pixies,” you introduced, “and we are here to give you the night of your life.”

You looked around the crowd to see so many faces enhanced with intricate and beautiful makeup looks, so many fans copying looks from your previous performances, so many bodies in bright colors. So many people who felt confident in what they were wearing and how they looked. 

“We’re gonna start off with a new one if that’s ok with you.” You announced you got an astounding amount of cheers, noting many phones launch into the air to record this new one. “This song is a fun one but more importantly,” you paused, the whole crowd hanging on your breath, “it is about what my mother thinks I am doing with my life. Here is Pink Pony Club!”

The girls started playing the intro and you walked to the front of the stage, sitting down, legs dangling off.

I know you wanted me to stay

But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place

Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

You stood, walking back to center stage.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee

Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

You whipped around to the audience

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You started dancing and jumping around stage, Lily and Mary joining you, smiles plastered on their faces

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The audience had settled into the performance, had gotten into the groove of the song, and joined in the dancing and the fun.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball

Every night's another reason why I left it all

I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica, you've been too good to me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The crowd was going crazy, right along with you, until you slowed down and the girls played quieter for the bridge.

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee

You're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You jumped up and danced like crazy, the crowd joining in, loving this new song. Some picked up on the lyrics and were singing them back to you, the feeling indescribable.

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing

I'm gonna keep on dancing

You kept dancing as Lily and Mary played the outro, out of breath and so happy. Once the song was finished, the whole building was filled with cheering. You looked to Mary, then over to Lily, they looked just as ecstatic, you could imagine Marlene felt the same. 

“Thank you, thank you!” you said into the mic. “Well, if you like that Common Room, we’re just getting started.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James had never seen a concert, a band like yours. There was no way to describe it, you were just, stars already. 

The rest of the concert was filled with just as much fun, joy as the first song. The dancing and singing and laughing was indescribable. 

The boys waited after the concert, waited until the last of the fans trickled out, then they made their way backstage. Walking down the halls and to the dressing room that had a piece of paper with the word “Pixies” in bold letters, Remus knocked on the door. 

The giggling and sounds of excitement were radiating from the room, loudly even with the door shut.

They waited for a moment before the door pulled open, revealing Mary. The smile dropped from her face for a moment before she put another one in its place, this one though, was more of an uncomfortable grimace more than anything. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here.” Mary said, opening the door to let the boys slide through. She hugged each of them on their way in.

James made eye contact with Lily who was on the couch with Marlene. She didn’t break away. He quickly looked over to Marlene and smiled. “We wanted to come and say great show!” he said, directed at them all, but not being able to look away from Marlene, who just smirked, knowing the situation and that James was incredibly uncomfortable right now.

“Thanks.” Marlene replied smoothly. 

Sirius noted the tension and decided to break it. “Where is she?” he asked.

All eyes went to him as Mary asked “Y/N?”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “No, the queen.” he said sarcastically.

“Are you going to try to sleep with her?” Mary asked, not holding back.

“What, no!” Sirius denied as if it wasn’t exactly something Sirius would do. “I just want to meet her. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.”

Lily scoffed. “She’ll be out in a minute, I think she's taking off her makeup.”

And as if right on que, you waltzed right out of the connected bathroom and into the dressing room. Smiling, you looked at the boys standing across from the couch. 

“Here she is!” Mary ushered you over, chipper and still energized from the performance. “This is Y/N, Y/N these are the boys in The Marauders.”

Your smile grew. “The Marauders? You guys were amazing at the festival.”

Sirius smiled back at you, charming as ever. “‘I'm Sirius.” you looked to the next boy, who was glancing at a fuming Lily.

“Uh, I’m James.” He smiled, seeming to come back to reality and out of whatever thought he was lost in. 

You looked at the final boy, tall and leaning against the wall. “And you’re Remus, right?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah we met a while back, lovely to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you! And it is lovely to finally meet you two.” you said to the newly acquainted Sirius and James, they nodded and smiled politely. There was a noticeable tension between everyone in the room, was there really that much of a rivalry?

“I think the boys were just heading out,” Mary said to the three boys standing in front of her. “Isn't that right?”

Sirius huffed and led the other two out throwing a “See you all soon.” over his shoulder as Mary escorted and followed them out into the hallway, shutting the door beyond her.

“That was… strange.” you said to Lily and Marlene. They just looked at each other and laughed, rolling their eyes. You didn’t understand.

“They're idiots.” Marlene supplied.

“They're boys.” Lily corrected.

Taglist 💌:  @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious (yell at me if I forgot anyone)

[mermaidinthecity]

Prologue

I’ve always said that the world is a different place for the heartbroken. It moves on a different axis, at a different speed. Time skips backwards and forwards fleetingly. The heartbroken might go through thousands of micro-emotions a day trying to figure out how to get through it without picking up the phone to hear that old familiar voice. In the land of heartbreak, moments of strength, independence, and devil-may-care rebellion are intricately woven together with grief, paralyzing vulnerability and hopelessness. Imagining your future might always take you on a detour back to the past. And this is all to say, that this is my version of Red.

Musically and lyrically, Red resembled a heartbroken person. It was all over the place, a fractured mosaic of feelings that somehow all fit together in the end. Happy, free, confused, lonely, devastated, euphoric, wild, and tortured by memories past. Like trying on pieces of a new life, went into the studio and experimented with different sounds and collaborators. And I’m not sure if it was pouring my thoughts into this album, hearing thousands of your voices sing the lyrics back to me in passionate solidarity, or if it was simply time, but something was healed along the way.

Sometimes you need to talk it over (over and over and over) for it to ever really be… over. Like your friend who calls you in the middle of the night going on and on about their ex, I just couldn’t stop writing.

This will be the first time you hear all 30 songs that were meant to go on Red. And hey, one of them is even ten minutes long.

Sincerely,

Taylor

— Taylor Swift, Red (Taylor's Version) (2021)

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

summary: on the road trip to bring the kids back to california, you have to keep ford awake!

warnings: none!

word count: 749

After deciding to drive the kids back to California this year for a road trip, Ford was unlucky enough to be picked to drive overnight. Stan, Mabel, and Dipper are asleep in the backseat despite the music you were blaring to keep you awake so you can keep Ford awake.

After all, if you had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, it’d only make Ford more tired. So, you’re night driving buddies. He has a lot of catching up to do music-wise so you’ve been playing your favorite songs going up from each year.

He, to be honest, doesn’t give a shit about the music. He’s not a music person, it takes up too much time and can be distracting. He especially hates when songs are over three minutes because he thinks the singers are being selfish by taking so many minutes of his life.

But watching you while it plays? Singing and having such a great time? His heart could explode any minute now. This thing between you two hasn’t been spoken about yet. It’s only been stolen glances and a silent yearning. Neither of you believe that the other would be interested because of the slight age difference.

Nonetheless, you can flirt with him in very small ways through the songs you play.

“Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel. My heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel,” You place a hand on his arm that gets a smile out of him before you jokingly snake it up to his shoulder. “Touching you, touching me

Touching you, God, you're touching me.”

You sit up straighter for the chorus so happily and in shock that the people asleep in the back are still asleep.

“I believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart. There's a chance we could make it now. We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down. I believe in a thing called love, hoo, ooh-hoo.” You tap along the windows as you sing, the wind moving your hair perfectly.

“He’s not singing, he’s yelling.” Ford tells you through laughter, speaking over the music.

“You totally suck. You’re no fun.” You laugh with him as he slightly turns the volume down.

“You totally suck.” He jokingly mocks your voice and then realizes what just happened. He just acted childish for the first time in decades.

“And what do you listen to?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not THAT boring.” You laugh and the sound is music to his ears as you slightly turn your body to face him even more. He desperately tries to keep his eyes on the road but it’s so hard when it comes to you.

“You really don’t listen to anything?” You ask, glancing over at him, curiosity in your eyes and he shrugs, trying to play it off.

“I…never made much time for it,” He admits, his voice soft. “Always had too much on my mind. Music felt like…well, like a distraction.”

“You’re allowed to be distracted every now and then, you know. Life isn’t just about… equations and discoveries and whatever else goes on in that brain of yours,” You shake your head, amused. “I’m distracted ninety percent of the time. Music is rarely the cause. It actually helps me focus sometimes. It drowns out the noises that drive me crazy like if I’m in a library, it feels like my senses are amplified. I hate hearing every push in and out of everyone’s chairs and pens writing, I need my headphones.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d ever be good at it the way you are.” He hums.

“Good at music?” You laugh, incredulous. “Ford, it’s not about being good at it. It’s about feeling it.”

Ford watches you, captivated. The way you let yourself be so free, so uninhibited—it’s something he envies, a part of life he’s never quite understood but longs to experience.

“I’m not the type of guy to ‘feel’ the sound of a bunch of different instruments.” He chuckles.

“Maybe you’re just lame then.” You gently nudge him.

“Lame? How many degrees do I need to get to not be lame?” He asks.

“Negative ten. You need to loosen up.” You tell him.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. Listen to some music.” You tell him with a small smile pulling at your lips as you lean on the window and look away.

[cosmogyros]

blasting the music ray: 🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, and publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers 🎶✨

Aw heck yes! I'm always a sucker for music games:

"Androgynous" by the Replacements

"I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl" by Nina Simone

"Amelia" by Joni Mitchell

"Der Weg" by Herbert Grönemeyer

"Sur mon épaule" by Les Cowboys fringants

[fennthetalkingdog]

I'm just figuring out how important music is in my life! This is coming from a long while trying to cut down on my music use, mostly because I was listening to it so much that it felt more like I couldn't do anything without popping in some earbuds, and partially because of other personal reasons. Some of my routines changed, forcing me to not listen to music while doing certain things, and it ended up becoming that besides working on homework or drawing, I didn't listen to music at all. But I've given myself a break today since I have nothing to do and since, for reasons, I'm feeling just a lil crappy today—and boy, I'm starting to realize again just why I love music!!

I love the diverse music taste I've developed over the years! My family is not only big about music but big about listening to it loud, so the majority of my music taste for most of my life has just been Christian hiphop (Lecrae, KB, Andy Mineo, Trip Lee, and ironically Tonex, whose album where he was struggling hard with his gayness has been my favorite concert movie since I was 5) and gospel music (Kirk Franklin, Tye Tribbett, etc.). And music was one of the few connections between me and my race (I grew up feeling pretty estranged from my blackness as a kid, but the popular songs they played at the YMCA in the 2010s were some of the few things I could use to feel more connected) and between me and my classmates/friends at the Y (I still have fond memories of playing FNAF songs in mat forts and reciting lyrics at pool parties). But I got tired of knowing I could never bond with anyone besides family friends music taste-wise when I was in high school, and so I started listening to secular music on my own time. And that's how I first found Ghost and Pals, a vocaloid artist and one of the first secular music folks I listened to as a kid (can you smell the religious trauma yet? Lol), and that's how I bonded with one of my best friends in early college (ironically, also my first time being publically queer). Now I listen to Kpop, anime songs, songs from warriors MAPs, songs from musicals (Hamilton and In the Heights <3), latin songs, metal songs, and even some secular songs young me would've been too scared to listen to.

And music has always been one of my biggest sources of stimming! I can't dance to save my life, but music will sure get me to flick my fingers and hit my fist against my shoulder furiously. Music was one of the first clues that I like stimming with vibration too (since I love laying against the car door and turning up the music loud enough to feel the world shake around me). And music was one of the first things that made me look into ADHD or autism (specifically, listening to Ghost and Pals songs for a month straight and getting my friend at early college [who also has ADHD] to start looking at me funny when I was discovered doing chores and listening to one of three songs for the fifth time). Music is so cool it'll get me to wax poetically. It was one of the things that kept me together during my roughest times and soothed me during my best. I listen to it while I write, while I cry, while I hang out with my friends and family and while I chill by myself. It's how I relax after a long day, and it's how I feel safe. I feel kinda emotional finally having music hit that spot in me without feeling like I need it to do stuff.

[whipped-for-fictionals]

going to be singing in our school's talent showcase tomorrow!! i'm so so excited, i chose the best song to sing as my final tribute to the school

[canni-killer]

finish drawing. feel proud! see three pieces of art. i want to kill myself.

[touhoutivations]

"Sometimes when I'm down or tired, I love to SHOUT or Sing~ some phrases that come to mind. I've been trying to learn sutras, but even simple things like a cat's meow or Don't stop me nooooow! Always manage to brighten me up, especially when I get my broom-guitar going to rock out! I used to get teased a bit about it, but Byakuren says that I should never be ashamed of expressing my happiness, especially when it's such a joyous celebration! It really meant a lot to me. When I first started at the temple, I kinda hated it because I thought I had to be all stiff and quiet, and hide things like my tail wagging- like it is when I go to the village- but…with her help, and with the band becoming so big…I'm not ashamed!

What are some things that make you happy? I'm giving you permission to rock out and proud*!"

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[23victoria]

“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[fayes-fics]

Lessons In Motion

Lessons Series Masterpost

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome)

Summary: An eventful carriage ride with the boys.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, no incest, dom/sub dynamics - dom!Bridgertons sub!reader, masturbation, dirty talk, mild degradation, light spanking/slapping, hair pulling, vaginal fingering, cockwarming, exhibitionism, breast play, edging, bondage restraint, sensory deprivation (blindfold), anal sex, vaginal sex, double penetration.

Word Count: 6.3k

Authors note: Is this the threesome I should be writing? No of course not. Sorry. This was indeed inspired by the synchronised head tilt in the s3 trailer 🤷‍♀️ Part of Lessons-verse, chronologically this takes place before Lessons in Breeding. Thank you to @colettebronte for betaing. Enjoy! <3

You bounce nervously in your shoes, craning to see the ride you are awaiting. 

You slipped out the side entrance of the music hall, eager to escape prying eyes, leaving them to exit through the front, picking up their family carriage together. Being a guest in the family box for the evening is one thing; an unattached woman leaving publicly with two of the most eligible bachelors in the country is another matter entirely—you have no desire to provoke the wagging tongues of the Ton. But that does not mean you wish for your night with them to be over, far from it.

With a whinny, a two-horse carriage rounds the corner into the quiet street a few hundred yards from the venue and comes to a halt before you. The windows are all obscured by thick, draped curtains. So much so that you hesitate, hang back under the shadow of the mature oak. Until that is, the door swings open, and a very familiar face pops out, expression bemused.

“Does my girl not wish for a carriage?” Anthony teases with an expectant, fond tone.

You giggle and rush towards the vehicle, climbing in quickly. The door slams behind you as a fist knocks upon the ceiling to indicate for the driver to move on. The carriage is dimly lit by one tiny glass lantern flame flickering, both sets of eyes are eager on you, that molten heat in your belly as you sit opposite them, both so handsome.

“Did you enjoy your evening, gentlemen?” you query, feigning innocence.

They both comedically tilt their heads in brotherly unison, matching bemused grins claiming their lips as Benedict giggles behind his fist.

“Considering where you had your hands all night, you know well we did,” he pipes up, raising an eyebrow pointedly. 

“Twas rather a boring recital, sir.” Your invocation of his play title makes his chest swell and his pupils dilate. “Should I not have kept myself sufficiently entertained?” He appreciates your sass, nodding with a knowing smirk. 

Indeed, you were greatly entertained. But not by the singing onstage. Sitting in the Bridgerton family box, a rigid cock in each hand as you teased them mercilessly, the angle of the seating allowing you the privacy to do so unseen by other patrons. Never letting either of them climax, taking them somewhere close then backing off, each huffing quietly, a white knuckle grip on their chair arms, as your fingers were coated with pre-cum. Most entertaining indeed. At one point, Anthony had hissed how he would have you on your knees and down your throat if you prolonged the torture much longer, but you knew it to be an empty (and entirely welcomed) threat. Now, in the privacy of the carriage, you rather suspect you are about to be taught a lesson for that cheeky behaviour.

“I do believe it is time for payback, brother,” Anthony opines, voicing your exact suspicions, them exchanging their trademark glance—so much communication with no words.

“Yes, I rather suspect a lesson is in order: that which you do unto others, you should expect done unto you,” Benedict forebodes.

Your stomach ripples as he grabs your ankle and roughly pushes it out wide, a hand travelling up your leg, gathering your dress around his forearm as he does. Soon, they discover the secret you held this evening: that you wear no chemise, no stockings, no undergarments at all, in fact—just your blue silk dress and ballet-style shoes.

“You filthy little vixen,” Anthony growls as he sees a flash between your legs.

“Do not pretend this type of indecency is not exactly what you want from her, brother,” Benedict counters dryly as his hand trails up your inner thigh, your breath quickening as he reaches your apex. You cry out, staring Anthony down as Benedict's fingers plunge into your pussy, burrowing deep, leaning his head into yours. “Always so hot, wet and wanting, are you not?” he rumbles into your hair as his fingers start to rock.

“Yes sir,” you know better than to ignore a question that is asked of you. “Only for you and my lord,” you add, knowing they always want to hear it.

“That is right,” Anthony preens, fighting with the buttons of his trousers and taking his sizable cock in hand, watching you moan and squirm on Benedict's invading digits, dripping down onto his palm, the sounds he draws from your body already obscene. You have been soaked since teasing them at the recital.

“I bet even the driver can hear this tight little cunt. Our filthy beautiful girl just drenching herself like the bitch in heat she is…” Benedict remarks casually.

You love it when they call you such taboo names in play, an illicit thrill running down your spine as he smiles predatorily and curls his fingers, hooking against your pussy wall, making you gasp. It's not quite enough pressure. Your head swings to look at him, silently requesting more.

He chuckles. “What did I tell you earlier?” 

“Teasing?” 

He nods as you pout, sliding his lips right to your ear, his breath hot there. “Until you are a mindless and trembling creature who will do whatever we tell you to.” 

You bite your lip and exhale raggedly, your belly constricting at the thought and at the sight of Anthony lazily pumping his cock, wanting to ride it so much your fingers flex upon the velour bench seat, rocking your pelvis with each stroke Benedict takes, hoping to catch a dash of friction upon your engorged clit. He tuts admonishingly when he senses what you are trying to do, curling his free hand around your inner thigh and spanking there. A stinging slap that makes you jump and mewl.

“Stop trying to come so hastily, darling girl. We decide if and when that will ever happen…” Anthony calls out from across the carriage, grabbing your leg and pulling it high and wide. He yanks off your shoe and bites your instep, not hard, but enough to make your whole body jerk, so you slide deeper onto his brother's fingers, moaning and throwing your head back, the rocking motion of the carriage somehow making it a worse tease.

“‘Tis not a long ride to either of your lodgings… surely you cannot tease me forever,” you speculate, spiralling slowly under such expert ministrations, an itch in your brain that needs to be scratched, even your teeth feel on edge.

“Oh, my girl, we are not headed to either place. Oh no. We are headed to our country retreat. The ride will take the rest of the night,” Anthony crows. “Our family will be remaining in London. So it will just be the three of us… with hundreds of acres to ourselves,” he grins devilishly, still slowly pumping his cock as he speaks.

“But…” you splutter, “I have nothing with me! No dresses, no shoes...” fretting mildly even as your stomach quivers with the thought of time spent alone with your boys.

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Benedict chuckles in your hair,  rotating his fingers so they drag over that sensitive spot that makes you shudder. “As if we are going to let you wear anything except our jewels. You shall be naked for days.”

“If you truly object, say your word now,” Anthony states clearly.  “And we shall drop you at your home.”

Benedict pauses his motions, awaiting your answer, both always respectful of your full consent. You look at them in turn, then merely shake your head fractionally, basking in their wolfish smiles. Wanting to do this with them—a new illicit adventure. The idea of days alone with both of them in a luxury country idyll is so beguiling. And a definite step forward in your dynamic as a throuple.

“Well, then, might as well tear off this dress right now; start as we mean to go on, right brother?” Benedict breezes as he withdraws his fingers from you, making you whine at the loss. But then he trails them across your decolletage, dipping his head to suckle your juices from your skin, his teeth sinking lightly into the swell of your breast, making you groan loudly and push up into his mouth.

“Agreed,” Anthony practically growls, pushing his trousers further down, cupping his balls now with his other hand.

“But my lord,” you stumble, tearing your eyes reluctantly from that tempting sight up to his face. “I need my dress to alight from this carriage when we arrive. Surely your staff should not see me naked?!" Your dissent is light, core pulsing at the mental image of them parading you naked up the front steps of a grand country house for all the gathered staff to greet your debauched arrival.

“Please,” Anthony withers, “what is a touch of nudity when they will likely find us fucking you in every way and place possible? Our darling little plaything, always so keen, are you not?” 

“Yes, my lord, Always.” 

Your whisper is obedient, watching him squeeze his cock more forcefully in his fist, his gaze locked between your splayed legs as Benedict yanks down your neckline roughly. The sound of fabric tearing fills the carriage, then their approving grunts as they realise you are without stays. 

“Get her naked, brother,” Anthony orders brusquely.

He sets about the task with enthusiasm, your dress ripping along the seams as he deploys both large hands and tears the fine silk asunder. It is one Anthony had paid for, so you do not mourn its loss, you rather suspect he will replace it with one identical in short order.

“If I am always to be naked, then will you warm my body when I am cold, sir?” You coquette, batting your eyelashes, playing up the damsel in distress to Benedict as he pushes aside the remaining fabric from around your front.

“Always sweet girl,” Benedict promises duskily, trailing his palm down your flushed skin, pulling you in for a kiss that is all tongues and heat. It has you canting your now naked body into his, desperate for his fingers, or even better, his cock, to be inside you.

As if sensing your need, Anthony intervenes as your lips break apart, perhaps jealous at the amount of time his brother has had with you. 

“Alright, enough of that. I think you are plenty prepared now. Come, my girl,” Anthony pats his thigh invitingly, “come sit on my cock.”

You make a victorious noise and slide out from around Benedict, Anthony grabbing your waist and spinning you around to face away from him. 

“Hello, my darling girl,” Anthony greets, his tone like velvet, pulling you snugly against his frame, the brocade of his waistcoat tickling your spine.

Your responding greeting turns into a cry as he guides you down onto his cock, splitting you open in that way it always does, a stretch that is just the right side of discomfort, that heavy weight pressing far inside that you yearn for.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, grabbing your jaw and pulling you back into a plundering kiss, making you pliant in his arms.

“Fuck me, my lord,” you beseech when you realise he is holding your hips down with a slight force, preventing any movement.

“But we have hours,” he drawls unhurriedly, “how about you sit still and just enjoy the ride, hmmm?”

You mewl in protest; as much as the carriage ride is indeed a pleasant rocking motion, your clit is throbbing, needing friction, craving release. You attempt to coax him by squeezing his cock so he groans throatily.

“Stop that. If you defy me, I will never let you come.”

He forcefully grabs your knees and drapes your thighs on either side of his woollen trousers that are bunched around his hips, then splays his legs wide. There’s a burning stretch on your inner thighs as he now holds you obscenely open. You are powerless to do anything but sit obediently upon his cock, whining slightly as the need claws at the edges of your mind.

Across from you, Benedict watches, seemingly transfixed by the sight of you naked and pinned open, speared on Anthony's cock, whimpering as your attempts to move are quelled by those firm hands clamped on your hips. You watch as he unbuttons and takes himself in hand, just as Anthony had, his eyes hungrily raking over your body. It makes you want to climb into his lap and fuck him over and over. 

“Will you fuck me, sir?” You lobby, hoping it will get a rise out of Anthony, that it will catalyse him into taking you hard, possessively.

“You know I will, sweet girl,” Benedict responds huskily. “But as my brother says, we have hours, and you will learn your lesson today…”

“I promise I have learned my lesson not to tease either of you,” you implore sincerely, hopeful for absolution, but both of them merely huff a laugh, suspecting it a hollow pledge. 

You pout again but relent, leaning back into Anthony, accepting your fate. His lips graze your temple as you rest your head on his shoulder and try to get comfortable. Try to ignore the pulse in your engorged clit with every heartbeat. Try to ignore the press of his frenulum inside, a pressure you feel compelled to rub against. Try to ignore that tingle in your nipples where they pucker hard, desperate for a tongue or some rough fingers.

And that is how you stay for what feels like an eternity. Just the noises of movement and horses upon what is now a dirty track, bright moonlight seeping through the cracks in the curtains as you sit in silent submission, The rocking of the carriage meaning you must occasionally endure the jolts of his cock against your hilt, making your breath catch. Your eyes alternate between fluttering closed and opening to see Benedict idly grasping his cock, but it's too tempting a sight, so you swallow hard and close them again. 

However, with your eyes closed, you see worse images dancing before you, taunting you. Flashes of them both lathing their tongues all over your skin, of you on your knees between them, a cock in your mouth and one pounding into your pussy, a loop of carnal push and pull. It makes you leak more, a trickle leaving your body and pooling at the base of Anthony’s cock, nestling in his hair there.

“I can feel how aroused you are,” Anthony purrs into your hairline, almost startling you after many minutes of quiet. “How it is taking every fibre in your being not to defy me. Let’s see how good you can really be for me. Remember, you may not move.”

That’s all the warning you get before his warm, lightly quill-calloused fingers slide over your clit, rubbing an agonisingly light, slow circle. Not enough to do anything but make you shudder and pant, needing more, tiny sparks igniting through your heavy pelvis. Fighting so hard to keep your hips still, wanting more than anything to buck up, bear down onto the hook of his fingers, frottage yourself until you come clenching around his cock so steely and hot inside you.

“Please, my lord,” you grit out, turning to bury your nose into him, huffing his spicy amber cologne, lips brushing the rasp of stubble on his strong jaw.

“I could listen to you beg all night,” Anthony confesses and there’s an edge to his voice that is dark, dangerous, unyielding. 

You lament when his fingers disappear, but he rolls his hips with the motion of the carriage, his cock sliding just a fraction deeper, making you cry out, the change of angle promising so much. Your hand flies out for purchase upon something solid but instead seizes the carriage curtain, unintentionally pulling it back so the glass is revealed.

“Oh, excellent idea!” Anthony lauds. “Yes, show yourself to the world, darling girl; show what a wanton thing you are for us.”

By now, though, the busy streets of Mayfair are long behind you. You are out in the darkness past Blackheath, moving fast down the Dover road to rural Kent. If there are any prying eyes, they will only catch a glimpse of you utterly naked, seated upon a clothed Viscount.

“Open the rest, brother,” Anthony clips.

Your eyes ping to Benedict as he releases his cock and pulls open the draped fabric on either side, hooking it back so the inky blackness of night is all around you.

“Imagine being seen, my girl,” Anthony baits. “There could be a highwayman right now lurking among those trees.”

Benedict leans forward, his hand suddenly clasping the jewelled necklace draped around your throat, the one Anthony presented you with just last week. His motion pulls you upright away from Anthony, the tilt of his cock inside you catching your breath.

“They may want this darling girl,” Benedict joins in. “Will you give it to them? Or will you offer something else instead in order to keep it? A more precious jewel perhaps….” He releases your necklace and trails that hand down between your breasts, over your belly, spidering lower until he grazes your clit. “Will you allow him this? Your greatest treasure?”

You moan loudly at his expert touch, a stroke of his middle finger under the hood of your clit making your whole body quake.

“N-no sir, I would not,” you stumble. “That belongs to my lord and to you.”

“Oh, good answer,” he winks, eyes twinkling in the moonlight streaming in as his now wettened finger traces back up over your belly. “But what if that is what we wish? To watch you be fucked by a stranger? A thief in a mask? Would you then?”

“I would do whatever you and my lord want, sir,” you pledge truthfully, then inhale sharply as he grabs the back of your neck and moves in close, his lips ghosting yours as he speaks again, teasing you with an almost kiss.

“I could watch you be fucked by a dozen men and enjoy every single one. I do so love the way your eyes roll when you are being taken rough. How you always, always plead for more, greedy little one that you are.” 

Your eyes flit down to see his other fist speeding up around his cock. It makes you clench around Anthony, who groans hard, the air in the carriage somehow notching hotter, tighter, like it’s a fight to breathe.

“Sir,” you murmur on his lips, “Please help me; I am in such need.”

You feel as much as see that crooked, laconic smile claims his face, his cock still in hand. “What do you want from me, darling girl? Be specific, maybe I will do it…” 

“Suck my nipples,” you request boldly at his enticement as he tilts back to watch you speak. “Maybe bite them a touch? Use your wonderful fingers upon my pearl; you can surely see it is so swollen...”

You know such explicit language will work for him, and sure enough, his nostrils flare as you ask for precisely what you need, his tongue flicking out to trace around his lips.

“Brother, will you allow it?” Benedict checks, his gaze flitting briefly to the man you sit upon.

“I will,” Anthony concedes, “on one condition: do not let her come, not yet.” He grabs a fistful of your hair, making you inhale sharply, jerking you back against his body, trailing his nose over your cheek. “I do so need her desperate and crying pretty tears for me before I shall allow that.”

Benedict slides to his knees before you, between your splayed legs, and you tremble as his damp lips ghost over the valley between your breasts, nuzzling your skin, inhaling deeply, trailing the point of his nose left to your nipple. You moan loudly as he suckles you into his hot mouth, lips pursed around your puckered teet. Then he glances the edge of his front teeth over your skin, causing a shudder down your spine. His hand cups your other breast, fondling your nipple with swipes of his thumbpad, teasing, while his teeth clamp down and tug away—a beeline to your core. 

You mutter a curse and thrash your head a little, settling on pressing your nose into Anthony’s neck and whimpering lightly, so much sensation coursing through you, his cock is still rigid and unrelenting inside you. Muttering as Benedict keeps feasting upon your breasts, biting, suckling, fondling, not allowing you one moment without the tormenting thrill, a quake in your thighs, an odd tingle in your arms, a pressure behind your belly that is a ball of need, wound tight like a spring.

“Sweet, sweet girl,” Anthony sighs, wrapping an arm around your head, his bicep bulging against your face through his jacket. “Now you have some sense of how we felt earlier tonight…”

At that, Benedict slides his thumb over your clit, flicking in a sideways motion that has you screaming into Anthony’s skin, clawing your hands into both of their hair, grasping their scalps and making them both growl.

“My lord, sir, please….” 

It's a broken, pitiful sound, teetering as you are, reality a blur, a buzz in your brain that is febrile. A tear of frustration prickles your eye at the prolonged agony of denied ecstasy. Just as you are incapable of defying them anymore and have to break, Benedict pauses, pulls back, and watches with that killer smile as you protest even louder, breasts wet with his saliva, goosebumps covering your entire body.

“She is so beautiful like this, brother,” Benedict groans, grabbing himself again and squeezing a few times as if staving off his own orgasm. “You should see it from here….” he adds as he falls back upon the opposite bench.

“I want to,” Anthony confesses, kissing your temple. “I want to see what you look like, my girl, struggling like this; I wish this damn carriage had a mirror….”

“There is one way….” Benedict shrugs, probably aiming for nonchalant but missing entirely. “She may do the same to me?”

“Do you want that, my girl? To sit upon my brother as well?”

“Yes, my lord,” you confess, always eager to gratify them both. “Will I be allowed to come if I do?”

He chuckles into your skin. “Not yet. But if you are good for him too, maybe then.”

Hope flares as Anthony closes his legs and hoists you up and off his cock, you emitting a slight lament at the loss of him as he helps you to turn around and guides you onto Benedict’s lap. Before you know it, you are once again invaded intimately, the stretch different in ways you can’t fully articulate but just as wonderful. Sliding deep, Benedict’s responding moan is hot in your ear as you settle upon him. He hooks your legs over his in the same manner Anthony did, pushing his knees wide open, perhaps even more so, and you hiss at the tugging sensation in your tendons.

“See, brother?” Benedict crows. “Look how spectacular she is…” the words are nuzzled into your temple as he drops a sighing kiss there.

“‘Tis quite the sight…” Anthony agrees lowly as he starts to unwind his cravat while sitting back to admire you. “But I feel she may need those rebellious hands restrained….”

Your belly roils as Anthony grabs your wrists, jerking them forward and binding them with the soft white silk, looping the fabrics many times before tying a tight bow that is unyielding. He doesn’t even ask for your colour, knowing such things are always a green light. What’s new is he guides your bound hands up high, then backwards, curling them behind Benedict’s head with an amused arched eyebrow.

“Don’t you dare move those arms until I say so,” Anthony warns, and all you can do is nod and bite your lip.

“Oh, excellent idea,” Benedict rhapsodises, staring fervently down the plane of your body draped naked over him.

It’s all at once similar and yet different to moments ago with Anthony: the stretch of a cock impaling you, the ache in your thighs forced so wide open, but now with the pulse in your wrists with your hands bound behind Benedict’s strong neck, your fingernails sinking into the plush ruched fabric on the wall behind.

“Watch me, my girl,” Anthony commands.

Drowsy and shaky with unmet needs, you observe as he touches himself again, his proud cock still glistening with your juices as it passes through his fist, tempting, teasing you. Attempting relief by undulating upon Benedict, but balance is more difficult now your hands are bound, instead resorting to supplicant pleas, hoping his empathetic nature will win out.

“Not yet,” he soothes through gritted teeth, but you can sense his quandary, wanting so much to rut into you, his hands flexing upon the dip of your waist. 

“You believe I have learned my lesson, do you not, sir?” Your soft appeal is blatant manipulation, reluctantly looking away from Anthony to twist sideways and stare beseechingly into his hazy blue eyes, finding a storm of desire there. Your lips tingle for his kiss as he goes to answer but is interrupted.

“Stop trying to cheat my girl,” Anthony counsels tersely. While he has welcomed Benedict into your dynamic, sometimes residual jealousy rears when you appear to have a moment of connection with his brother, wanting to gain control—the upper hand.

“You heard him. So, are you going to be a very good girl for me?” 

Benedict’s voice is a resonant vibration through your back, his frilly shirt tickling your spine. You would do anything for him when he asks like that. Your resounding nod is rewarded with a kiss, and his long fingers snagging around your nipples, your pussy clenching reflexively upon him as his tongue rolls over yours. It makes him stutter a growl into your mouth, which tastes like sin laced with smoky whiskey. 

And so you do as asked—sitting meekly, submissively, that heavy distracting weight inside you keening quietly, throbbing between your legs as Benedict tweaks your nipples almost lazily between his paintbrush-calloused fingers, his lips on your neck, sucking gently, a sensation that is all soft, wet heat. Your hooded gaze is glued to Anthony idly stroking himself, only a fraction of movement designed to keep himself aroused, no doubt. 

Minutes tick by, so you lean back into Benedict’s body as his touch softens, allowing your breathing to syncopate to his, his chest rising and falling against your back. Despite your thrumming arousal, the effect is soporific, and you find yourself growing so sleepy, eyelids too heavy…

…“Wake up, sweet girl,” Benedict’s bemused voice rings in your ear.

You startle, having no concept of how much time has passed. You are impressed when you realise he is still rock-hard inside you, your legs closer together now.

“For how long was I asleep?” You query, stifling a light yawn. A warmth blooms behind your ribs when you realise that, at some point, they unhooked your arms from behind Benedict's head, your hands resting in your lap, still bound in Anthony’s cravat.

“About a quarter hour,” Anthony chuckles. “You looked so peaceful, but we decided to rouse you to deliver the good news. We believe that you have indeed learned your lesson, sweet girl….”

“Yes, my lord, I have!” You enthuse, suddenly awake again, feeling an instant quickened throb in your clit, hoping it means they will finally take pity on you, fuck you, let you come.

“Then it is time for your reward…” 

Anthony’s tone is both benevolent and filthy as he flicks open a small vial that he must have retrieved from somewhere while you were sleeping. He shuffles his trousers down his legs a little further, the smell of olives and clove swirling in the air as he pours the oily substance onto his cock. 

“What is my reward, my lord?” You ask as your stomach clenches. 

But you already know. There is only one reason he does this. It’s when he wants to claim your bottom, not your pussy.

“You get both of us inside you at once, darling,” he answers with a dangerous smile, and Benedict groans as again, on instinct, you clench around him in excitement.

“She likes that idea, brother,” Benedict offers sardonically from behind you.

“Use your cravat, sir, blindfold me,” you petition, twisting your head to look at him, wanting to feel as much as see tonight.

“By god, I adore you,” Benedict gruffs, his voice laden with admiration and arousal as he dives in for a quick kiss. 

Then you feel him fighting off the teal silk behind you, unwinding it rapidly before settling it gently over your face, the gossamer soft fibres still warm from his neck, scented lightly of him. He ties a bow behind your head and then drops a kiss on your shoulder. Then two sets of hands assist you up off of Benedict's cock. You revel in their touch as they gently spin you and guide you backwards onto Anthony’s now bare lap, his trousers around his knees.

As the carriage rocks gently, two oiled fingers slide between your cheeks, and Anthony whispers sweetly as he swirls a finger around your bottom, extolling soft praises as he always does when he takes you here, preparing you for him. 

When you murmur that you are ready, you exhale shakily as you feel that intense blunt pressure, now more familiar to you, as he breaches your tight hole, your body stretching to accommodate his oiled cock, slowly sinking into his lap as you take slow, relaxing breaths. 

“Exquisite,” he stutters, his hands moving to hold your waist tightly, guiding you the last few inches until you are seated to his root—the utter fill like a sense memory. After a few moments of allowing you to adjust, Anthony changes his stance, pulling your legs open wider and shifting inside in a way that feels pleasurable and makes your hands flex in your binding.

“You like that, do you not?” you can hear the smirk in Benedict’s voice even if you can't see it, feeling his intense gaze upon your body as you raise your head to the sound of his voice and nod.

“Hands above your head, my girl,” Anthony instructs, and instantly, your hands shoot up, the silk binding on your wrists flexing as Benedict grabs your arms and hooks them behind Anthony’s head, his heat looming over you as he does so.

“Good, now are you ready for me too?” he checks, and you just know he has an arched brow, that menacing look; you can hear the pump of his cock in his fist, saliva gathering in your mouth at the very thought.

“Yes, sir.” 

“You do not want gentle tonight, do you?” Benedict intuits, likely seeing the hunger writ large across your blindfolded face as he kneels on a little footrest; you can feel his hips at the perfect height, the edge of his cropped jacket snagging the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“No, sir.” 

“So very different to the first time we did this,” Anthony remarks knowingly in your ear, invoking the memory of that landmark night in your burgeoning dynamic—the night you truly became a throuple.

It makes you almost wistful even in this carnal moment, that now familiar press of both their bodies, of being sandwiched between them as Benedict leans in. Although tonight, it is not warm skin upon yours, but the slight scratch of wool, the tickle of silk as they remain clothed. 

“Perhaps we indulge you too much, with both of us at once…” Anthony chuckles.

“No! Let me have both..” you twist back to implore him, even though you cannot see. “I need you both so much, my lord, sir, I am aching…”

“Well, I cannot deny such a pretty appeal as that, brother,” Benedict avows, and that is all the warning you get before he guides himself into you. 

You groan loudly as his tip nudges into your pussy, the stretch of two cocks always making your eyes roll, your toes scrunch hard. Anthony’s hands grasp your thighs, holding you open as Benedict slides deeper inside, their breath uneven, knowing they can likely feel the pressure of each other as much as you can. A curse slips from your lips as they both finally rest entirely within you.

“Darling girl, you always take us so well,” Benedict’s voice lauds, dark and decadent, “so magnificent.”

Your eyelids flutter hard against his cravat, bound and blindfolded, split open upon two cocks… you can think of nowhere else you would rather be.

“Please fuck me…” you entreat, feeling as if you have been pleading for hours with them, your mind scratchy, clawing, like a wild beast clambering up the sides of the carriage, wailing to be sated.

You almost howl as finally, finally, they take pity upon you. Benedict withdraws and then thrusts back into you, aided by the rocking motion as the carriage hurtles through past the fields of Kent, the journey seeming to speed up, mirroring the fevered atmosphere within.

Blindly, you seek a kiss from them both, swivelling to Anthony, then Benedict. Desperate, hot, open mouths meet as you start to set a rhythm together, the friction and fullness radiating pulses of pleasure outwards from where you are joined.

You love it when you are caged between them like this, pinned, hands tied, unable to see. Unable to do anything, indeed, but submit to their whims, entrusting your body and gratification utterly to them, to lay back and take it. Take the endless surges of pleasure, the push and pull, the drag of them both inside you as they change tempo, catching you unawares and making you moan and babble. The noises they wrench from your body are drowned out by the thrum of wheels upon dirt, by the thundering of hooves before you, all of you chasing destinations, literal and ephemeral. Windows fogging with panted breaths, the carriage air almost cloying, all three of you moaning unfettered as pleasure mounts.

“Do you think the coachmen above can hear us?” you gasp out, eyes rolling at the overwhelming sensations of both moving within you, their hips snapping roughly.

“Do you honestly care?” Anthony challenges, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he rolls under you.

“She wants them to watch, most likely,” Benedict pants, his hands a vice-like grip on your waist as he fucks into you.

When you do not respond they both huff a laugh.

“Your silence says so much,” Anthony remarks and suddenly, your hair is in his fist, the force making your back arch, sliding both of their cocks deeper, your moan unbridled. “Whose good little whore are you?” he demands hotly, a glance of his teeth upon your jaw.

“Yours,” you rasp, eyes fluttering against your blindfold, head tilted to the carriage ceiling, feeling the burn on your scalp, your nipples pebbled hard against the rough rasp of Benedict's jacket lapel.

“Then repeat it,” Benedict bites out, his mouth sucking harshly upon your shoulder, leaving his mark, a darkened patch you know he will have you look at in the mirror in the coming days.

“I’m your good little whore,” you echo breathily, for them both, the degrading words ratcheting you higher.

They both groan at your utterance, their hands becoming a more urgent hold. Fingertips grazing and tweaking your nipples, you know not whose. Teetering so close, you beg. Beg them to go faster, to touch your clit, to hold you down, be rough, do anything to make this fever upon your skin, buzzing in your mind, break over you, release you from this prolonged heightened state, leaking profusely around their cocks, slack-jawed, strung out with need.

When a hand worms between your bodies, snagging against your clit, you convulse around them, both groaning at the restriction, curse words falling from them in harsh pants as finally you reach the peak you have been seeking forever. One flick of a thumb, and you are gone.

The intensity of your orgasm is breathtaking: transported and hurtled into the skies far above, your whole pelvis contracting and rippling around both of them as they cry out as your vice-like grip. Static buzzing in your skull as they seem to sandwich into you even harder, your lungs gasping for air as your body feels rearranged, your mind floating on a sea of bliss as their movements become harsher, more desperate, you pulling them over the edge with you. Benedict withdraws suddenly, a warmth splashing upon your lower belly as Anthony growls hard under you, feeling the ripple of his cock as he releases inside your bottom.

For a few moments, it’s just panted breaths, all slumped together in a damp pile. Exchanging sated smiles as they tenderly unwrap the cravat from around your eyes and wrists, delicately kissing your skin as you rearrange. Playtime over, back to yourselves, a shared affection between that is undeniable now.

“How much longer until we reach your country home?” you ask as you curl up into their joint embrace, hands caressing your skin in soothing swirling patterns, a languorous pull in your bones now that you are finally satiated. A flickering glow behind your ribs at the idea this is just the start of something new with your boys.

“I have absolutely no clue, my darling,” Anthony confesses with a carefree bubble of laughter, “and I do not particularly care as long as you are in our arms, right brother?” he adds, tilting his head leisurely towards Benedict.

“Absolutely,” Benedict concurs, “If only all carriage rides were this stimulating…” he jests wistfully.

“They could be… if you always take me with you,” you breeze, giving him a chaste kiss.

“We shall never travel again without you,” Anthony attests over a stifled yawn, his stubble abrading your collarbone as he burrows his head into your neck and sighs contentedly.

And that is how you all finally rest, a tangled pile of limbs, your naked body warmed by their tight hold as the carriage whisks you through the countryside under a blanket of stars. 

Taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @kisskissshutmydoor @y0ur-favgerman @sya-skies

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: TOJI

A/N: You’re booked. Busy. Filled to the brim with board meetings. Then your car decides to stop functioning. There’s one mechanic shop open and somehow they seem to only hire God’s sweetest eye candy. One of which keeps getting stuck in the back of your throat. Uh—I mean—

S/N: Toji Mother-Fucking (literally) Fushiguro. Idk why it took me so long to feature this green-eyed monster but I am foaming at the mouth for this AU, him, and his lil vampy co-worker. Toji girlies, can’t WAIT to rush Toji Tau Sigma this fall 🙂‍↕️

C/W: ….he’s his own CW. Mature, 18+. MDNI. 

Art credit: yashaliart_01 on insta

Music: for the love of God if you don’t listen to Obsessed x Mariah Carey I’m calling the coast guard. Reader wants to pretend Toji is not her newest vice so BAD. Ive never laughed so hard and been so painfully turned on writing a piece. SOMEONE tell me not to make this a series RN.

“Can I get a little help here?”

Toji grabs the rag nestled in the back pocket of his heavy work cargos. Charcoal ink stains the fabric. 

Bugatti engines are such a bitch. And make a mess like one too. 

“Hello? Am I talking to a wall or..?”

And just like that, you’ve earned yourself a few more seconds of silence. 

The mechanic’s Evergreen gaze and satisfied smirk peer back at him in the mirror. Not even a second passes before you ensnare him in your fiery scrutiny. 

Ahh, yes. Just his type. 

You are mean. 

With a sexy fucking silhouette. An angry merlot painted on those beautiful, pouted lips. A fresh manicure and keys to your Benz dig into hips that have definitely stopped traffic. 

The mirror image isn’t enough of a bite. Toji needs a real taste, so he turns around to lock eyes with his new favorite unsatisfied customer. 

“Mornin, doll.” 

“Nice of you to grace me with your presence! I was starting to think no one worked here.” 

Melodramatic, the way you narrow your gaze to bring his name tag into focus. It’s hot, though. All this sarcasm and irritation. 

“—Toji? Is it?” You hiss venom. Clearly there’s a point you’re in a hurry to make. 

But..

it’s 7:13 AM on a lovely Monday morning.  Birds are singing. The Red Bull he just downed was particularly delicious. Life is good, right now. 

Toji has all the time in the world. 

He’s in no rush. Especially when a stunning, uptight, bratty little thing — sorry, career woman — like you woke up and chose him to be your personal punching bag. 

And he’s built to take hits. From fists much, much larger than yours, gorgeous.  

“Toji, it is. What can I do for you, darlin?” 

And he knew that sweet, innocent pet name would dump diesel fuel all over those pretty flames. 

You ramble off your full name as if he is going to use it. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t have any use for it either. 

His name, though. You’ll have plenty use for his name. 

“…and when the stupid thing turns on this morning, the dash light won’t turn off.” 

Toji lands on earth just in time to clasp the car keys shoved into his chest. You’re gawking at him. Expecting a fury of motion and urgency. Because your charming little fingers demand it. 

So accustomed to time stopping and starting on your watch, aren’t you? 

“You’re so pretty.” Toji responds with a shit eating grin. 

Just for the huffing and puffing you’re currently displaying. Sputtering about how unprofessional he is. And how much work you have to get done. 

Adorable. 

Toji slips past your disdain and makes his way to the front door. Matte black G-Wagon with a champagne interior. The vision of you behind the wheel, scowling at traffic, in your tailored dress and stilettos makes his cock twitch. 

“She’s a beauty.” He calls from the driver seat. 

“That’s why I bought it. Can you please pick up the pace a little?”

Both arms are folded across your chest, eyes rolling at his wasted breath stating the obvious. 

You’re going to look phenomenal when he has those defiant arms pinned above your head. He’ll diminish those daggers in your eyes to tears. And make those puffy lips whimper for mercy. 

Toji will have you begging him to pick up the pace in no time. Your snarky comment was just a test run. 

The mechanic lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scan the dash for the source of your apparent distress. 

The tire pressure gauge. 

Really, gorgeous? This is why you’re screwed so tightly this morning? 

It should take approximately 3 minutes to fix. But there’s no way Toji is letting you slip away from his skilled fingers so easily. Not when you need to be unwound.

Unraveled bit by bit until you’re a warm, sweet, puddle of manners and gratitude. 

“Alright, babydoll—“

“My name is—“

“I’ll have my guys get to workin on it, sweetheart.” 

He can play this game all day. You scoff. Temporarily placated by his promise of a fix. 

“It’s an all day job, though.” Toji’s right hand man comes into view. 

The only other guy in the shop (on the planet) to get as much play as he does without meaning to. 

Women are insane about his stupid, empty-headed, love-drunk stare. And the purple rings around his eyes like the last time he got sleep was in his mother’s womb. Always giggling and asking about “the hot one with the pigtails” and “the pretty one with the tattoo on his nose.”

If he were a less confident man, Toji would’ve called someone else over. But the kid gets his antics. 

And today is going to be stuffed with them. 

“Choso! Can you take this beauty to the back for repair?” 

Dracula’s first born is sporting his hair down today. Already a bit damp from work. He gives you a once over, then offers a smile that evaporates underwear off of women. 

“Happy to. Which beauty am I taking to the back?”

“Ha, quit your lover boy shit.” Toji teases, and you sneer at his hypocrisy. 

“The car, big guy. Have it ready by 5:00, yeah?”

“5:00 pm?” You do a thing with your hands eventually landing on your hips. And Toji’s dick leaks like a virgin. 

“Well, there must be a courtesy rental. My first meeting starts in an hour.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t have that.” 

Kamo, you slick fuck. 

Choso apologizes with his signature puppy-eyes and half open mouth. Even you, made of sharp words and soft curves. Goddess of Fire and Ice, you melt under his gaze. 

Toji snickers to himself, while you stutter to a shockingly patient understanding. 

Something about the boy looking half asleep and like he can’t string letters together to spell his own name always does the trick. Leaving you wide open for the kill. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Toji moves in with an assassin’s expertise. 

“Consider me your courtesy rental.”

“I’m sorry—what?” You flicker between the two smiles, rightfully suspicious. 

“I’ll get you from point A to point B, safe and sound.” The mechanic offers again with a broad smile, dangling his own car keys in his hand. 

Pensive eyes drop down to your watch. Board meetings start soon and he is offering a courtesy ride. 

“Fine.” Finally, a little submission. 

“It’s a 10 minute drive. The high rise on the corner of Koen and Mitake street.” 

The financial district. No wonder why you’re so tightly wound. 

“I know exactly, where we are going.” Toji beams. Beating your slender fingers to the passenger door. You barely mutter a ‘thanks’ before settling into the seat. 

You in your heels. And suit jacket. And handbag that costs enough to feed a large family for 6 months. Nestled so perfectly into his passenger seat. Toji can’t help but acknowledge how hard his dick is right now. 

The career woman clearly doesn’t approve of how fast he is hurling down corner streets. But you should understand, no? Places to be, and all that jazz?

“Uh, I’m sorry, where exactly are you taking me?” You perk up. Darting those beautiful warm eyes at the very short building in front of you. 

Not the corner of Koen and Mitake street, but Toji’s favorite coffee shop about 3 blocks over. The only place in the city that can get an Americano right - La Parisian. 

Toji grins maniacally. Pulling his sports car into a front row spot. 

“Point A, darlin.”

“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I swear—“

“C’monnn. Lighten up.” He turns to face your incredulous expression. You wear it well, by the way.

“People stand when you walk in a room.” He continues. “They’ll still stand if you’re 5 minutes late and properly caffeinated.” 

Silence. Two huffs. A bitten lower lip. And one long, drawn out sigh.

“Fine. 5 minutes, max. Then I’ve got to get going I have—“

“Meetings baby, I know.” Toji finishes you off. 

He steps out of the driver’s seat fast enough to be at your door before your fingers touch the handle. 

The two of you walk in stride (in Toji’s mind) to the cafe. It’s adorable how you beeline towards the pastry display. Salivating over the various treats. Doing the thing women do, badgering the person manning the register about nutritional details. 

As if your figure wouldn’t make any living red-blooded human being fall to their knees. 

“What can I get started for you?” The barista probes. 

“I’ll have a soy London Fog latte, please.” You flicker over to the dessert you think you’re leaving behind. 

“And?” Toji probes. He taps the glass in front of the vanilla macaroon.

Another crack in the shield. You flash him a genuine smile for 0.04 seconds before turning back to the register.

“…and a vanilla macaroon, please.” You’re cute when you’re sheepish. 

“And I’ll have the largest iced Americano you can make, thanks.” 

Toji closes out the transaction and you two mosey over to a small table by a window. Your shoulders relax with the first sip of coffee. 

A satisfied grin tugs on your chauffeur’s lips. He knew what you needed the second he laid eyes on you. 

Much to your chagrin, and Toji’s delight — conversation flows like a bottomless well between you. The second something warm and another thing sweet landed on your tongue — the shield crumbled down. 

You’re an account executive. 

You work 80+ hour weeks. 

Live in an uppity neighborhood with a Doberman named Rocky. You got him because you like walking around at night to clear your mind. Having a dog taller than you on its hind legs and probably twice your size has eased your anxiety about that. 

You have a mean sweet tooth. 

And you’re single. Have been for the last year or so. 

“And not looking to change that anytime soon.” You reiterate, tossing him a look. 

Toji holds his hands up in feigned defeat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it, sweetheart.” 

You’ve warmed up to his pet names, albeit against your will. But you’re there. The both of you harmonize light-hearted laughter. Fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.

“Your eyes are so green.” 

A rather obvious observation of your own, after a few moments of comfortable silence. 

As if your eyes don’t bend time. 

Toji catches his breath before responding. 

“They are…your kids could have ‘em too, if you want.” 

You burst into another fit of giggles. Unknowingly driveling rogue pastry on your chin. Babbling on and on about how ridiculous he is. And how cheesy his pick up lines are.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there all high powered and intelligent. With a smile that makes him want to be a better man than he is. 

…and pastry all over your chin. 

Yeah. 

He’s going to marry you one day. 

Toji reaches over and swipes the macaroon off your chin. A sharp gasp tumbles from your lips, staring at his fingers. Which Toji slips into his mouth. 

He’s a betting man and would put money down on the fact that the dessert tastes exponentially better off of your skin. 

“Toji!!” 

“What else can I do for you?” Each word more smug than the last. 

“You could’ve told me I had food on my face!” Bunny lines along your nose deepen when you frown and Toji’s cock throbs to life. 

“Why?” The mechanic shrugs. “I wanted to lick it off instead.” 

The choppy inhale is music to Toji’s ears. You avoid him. Like the plague. Peeling your gaze away and planting it on the side window. Under the guise of people watching. 

But Toji knows better. 

He doesn’t miss the way you struggle to swallow your last bite. Or your thighs coming together so aggressively beneath the small table, rip tides break the surface of his Americano. 

“I felt that, baby.” Toji leans in. Shameless about the way he scans your face. 

Your lips should be outlawed.

The bottom one is marginally fuller than the top, so it naturally hangs a bit open. Inviting the most vile thoughts from his cock. Toji’s rational mind went to sleep the second you climbed into his passenger seat, princess. 

“What?” You sputter, gulping down the rest of your U.K. cloudy cappuccino, or whatever. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Your voice is steady, but the fidgeting and cagey eye contact hold the truth. 

Oh, really? 

“You’re squirming in your seat.” Toji counters, unblinking. Filling as much of your personal space as he can without tipping over. 

“Quick to cross your legs—“

“Toji!” 

Is your underwear as sticky as your face is flushed? Saliva pools in one direction, warm pre-cum pools in the other. 

“You are so out of—“

“All that talkin’ and you haven’t denied it once, doll.”

Toji’s palm digs into his crotch underneath the table. You are fucking his brain smooth with the raspberry blush along your nose and high cheeks. Sure, the sarcasm and ball-busting is hot, but this? 

The Career Woman suddenly so flustered and shy? 

You’re already thawed out. All he needs to do is dive in. 

Toji blinks back to reality when you rocket up from the table at warped speed. Your fingers clumsily fondle the zipper of your purse. 

“Excuse me for a minute.” You’re halfway to the restroom stalls by the end of your sentence.

The mechanic lasers down to the serpentine curve of your hips. Your plump, perky ass is just begging to be handled. It’s a felony, the way your work dress hugs your body. 

Is he really going to do this?

Heat slams into his groin. Wave after wave of lust slowly chipping at his teetering self-control. 

You might slap him. 

Call him a goddamn pervert. 

…and just the thought of either of those things makes his dick beat against his zipper. 

Fuck it. 

Toji is slick, how he maneuvers his way over to the restrooms. Both single-use stalls occupied, he walks up to you muttering some kind of pep talk to yourself. 

“Get your shit together.” You spit out. 

Amused, Toji leans against the wall behind you. Curious about where this cute little speech is going to go. 

“He’s a rando you met at a mechanic shop. For fuck sake, are you that horny?”

“Sounds like it, baby.” Toji takes the liberty to answer. You whip your head around and crawl out of your skin. 

Eyes wider than a newborn kitten. Mouth gaping as if you’re trying to show off how much you can handle. Toji swallows a groan. He can’t lose control. Not a chance. He has to savor his first taste of you like this. And every taste after that. 

Because, the weather in Hell is a balmy 0 degrees Fahrenheit and you are his, now. 

“I—uh, I—“ Your eyes dart over to the poor soul opening the bathroom door in slow motion. 

You think you’ve found an out, gorgeous?

Toji is faster and bigger than you are. Gripping the handle of the open door, ushering you into his new lair. Still choking on the shock of him catching your admission, you look to your left and right before diving into the empty bathroom. 

“Toji I…” 

Your back hits the wall and eyes settle on your hands. Shifty and nervous. Toji palms himself at the sight of you caged in like this. 

He’s disgusting, he knows that. 

And normally, he would ask permission. Being a gentleman and all. 

But there’s something too alluring about the way you’re trembling right now. The obvious conflict written all over your face, and heaving chest…and tense thighs…

His cock can’t take another second. 

And apparently neither can you. 

Because the second his fingers cup the back of your neck and his breath grazes your mouth you crash into him. Slotting your puffy lips into his, taking him by surprise for a millisecond. 

“Oh, T-toji.” You whine into his mouth. Grasping at his shoulders that are far too wide, far too muscular for your dainty grip.

Fucking, christ. 

Hearing his name like that. 

The gorgeous, high-pitched, pathetic plea trails down his ears to his aching sex and jerks it. If his cargos were any lighter you would’ve seen the pre-pubescent mess he’s making in his pants right now. 

But they aren’t. And you don’t. 

You mewl at how Toji nips at your bottom lip. Sinking it underneath his teeth until its swells to his liking. Melting beneath his large grasp, currently riding the dizzying lines of your hips and ass. 

“You taste fucking good, baby.” Toji mumbles into your warm cavern. Licking along the warm, soft ridges. 

“Ah-T..god.” You pull away and dive into his neck. Attempting to hide your utterly fucked out daze, but he won’t let you. 

Toji palms your ass with a tenth of his strength. You yelp and jump into his arms. He takes advantage of the momentum and lifts you high on his waist. Temporarily forcing you to look down on him.

Glassy eyed. Kiss abused lips. Panting and heaving. Cupping his face like your hands were made to. 

And something tight clenches in Toji’s chest. It takes a moment for him to shake it off, but it existed.

He’ll revisit that later.

“You look good up there, babydoll.” He pants, before setting you down on the sink ledge. He catches your chin in his hand before you turn away. Rooting you in place. 

“I…Toji.” 

Moaning his name like you’re begging for him to start and stop all at once. 

Your eyes descend to his lips. Watching the smirk blossoming across his face. Distracted enough not to notice his free hand shove up your dress in one swift motion. 

Your thighs recognize his authority and melt wide open for him. He kisses your tiny whimpers while nestling between them. 

“Mmmgh g-god please.” 

“This why you were so bratty this mornin baby?” 

Toji’s index and long fingers stroke your soaked, clothed core. Thin lace panties plastered to your warm sex. You wind your hips into his fingers. Batting your eyelashes up at him as if he’s going to give you what you want so easily.

He hovers his lips over yours. Pulling away each time you lunge forward for a kiss. Pouty and frustrated, you dig your nails into his neck and grind along his stationary fingers. 

“T-Toji, please…I’m so..ahh.”

“Needy cunt just wanted some attention, mm?” 

His fingers slip past your opening, and you offer up a soprano moan that shatters to stardust. 

Hedonistic noises fill the spaces between both of your punched out gasps. You’re fucking tight. Gummy, slick walls clamp down around his knuckles when he curves up to pet your pleasure spot. 

The steel pipe between his legs throbs against his thigh. Demanding friction. But one hand is cupping your chin and the other is so pussy drunk an army couldn’t pry his fingers away. 

“T..I—I’m oh fuck I—“

Toji bites down on your bottom lip. And you clench around him. Gushing more of your sweet arousal into his palm. And he damn near laps it up with his greedy tongue. 

“Shhh baby,” he coos against your jaw. 

“Can’t have everyone hearing the Executive getting fucked open by some mechanic’s hands can you?” 

There is a delicious irony in you treating him like a punching bag no more than an hour ago and now bucking your hips on his fingers, chasing an ever elusive high.

Sandpaper lines Toji’s throat. 

He wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock in this bathroom. Fill you up with his cum and send you to your meetings full of him. 

But you haven’t learned your lesson yet.

“What did I promise baby?” Toji strains in your ear. His hand migrates from your chin to your neck, while his fingers ‘pick up the pace a little.’

His pretty little powerhouse. 

You babble a chorus of nothing. Unable to breathe, unable to think. Only drip. And leak. And squelch around his digits. Toji tightens the grip around your pulse point. Lulling your mouth open.  

“Talk to me, princess. What did I promise you?” He probes again, stealing air from your lungs. 

Tha—y-you would…p—point A.” Barely audible syllables tumble out of you. Ascending in pitch. Your hips reflexively try to pull away from your threatened orgasm.

“Keep going, I’m listenin.” 

“Oh fuck T..Toji?! I-Im c-im gonna—”

“I know, baby.” He smears wet kisses along your jawline. “ I can hear how messy your precious little pussy is. But I didn’t give you permission to stop. Keep going.”

Your walls spasm at his command. Followed by an angelic pitiful little whine. You’re close. So close. 

“P-P-point A to—“

“Point B.” 

Toji finishes your sentence as you reach nirvana. Full body convulsions. He slots his arms around the small of your waist. And it fits like it was molded for him. Like you were sculpted for him.

And he, for you.

The mechanic burns his gaze into your skin. Riding each choppy wave of your ecstasy. Such tiny, sexy sounds. Staccato breaths fanning his lips, his chin, his neck when you try to hide from his scrutiny. 

You are a goddamn dream. 

And his future wife.

Toji guessed it when the macaroon balanced on your chin for a full 30 seconds before he swiped it away and you accused him of defamation of character. 

But now? 

Watching you saddle this stallion of an orgasm. Clawing at his back with all the desperation of a pretty little damsel in distress. 

Distress at just his fingers, alone. 

What intoxicating melody will he unlock when he laps up the honey straight from your core? How will you gasp and moan and squirm when he single-handedly re-shapes your cunt to accommodate his size? 

He has no clue. 

But Toji will spend forever figuring you out. And mastering you.

The back of your neck fits beautifully into his grasp as he coaxes you from hiding. Pupils blown out. Cheeks flushed and warm. Tendrils matted along your forehead. Before he can speak, you beat him to the punch.

Of course you do. 

“I’ve decided,” You pant. The baseline spice returning to your grin. 

“That you might just be obsessed with me, Toji.” 

Both of you share a hushed laugh. Exchanging cotton candy breaths. But then his lips accidentally brush yours and Toji can’t help but dive in for a kiss. Fucking the warm cavern of your mouth with his tongue. 

You pull away before he’s ready, with a look on your face that makes him feel like a God. 

“I might be.” Toji whispers, partially against his will. His lips find the corner of your mouth. Careful to avoid falling victim to your pout again.

“Let’s get you to the other point B, baby.” 

The car ride to your office could make anyone queasy. 

Constant banter back and forth. Full bodied laughs. You mindlessly stroking his forearm with those angelic fingers riling his cock up as if it just now discovered women. 

You let out a small sigh, with slightly dropped shoulders when your office building comes into view. Toji doesn’t know how to interpret it. But for him? Reality is coming too quickly.

“So,” You start once the both of you are out of the car. Pretty face tilting up and Toji’s dick strains against its confines.

“What do I owe you, Mr. Fushiguro?” 

The way you say his name.

It takes the will of God for Toji to bite back his original response.

“Nothin, doll.” He’s wearing the same, dumb, love-struck face Choso wears on a daily basis. Shockingly, Toji couldn’t care less. 

“The tires just needed air. Choso will drop it off in an hour.” 

He would do it himself. But the urge to park in an empty lot and abuse the fuck out of his cock until a shred of clarity re-settles in his mind is a tad bit overwhelming, sweetheart.

Then your mouth drops in an incredulous ‘Oh’ and all Toji can picture is ruining the back of your throat. How pretty you are going to be wretching around his girth. Gasping for air. Choking on his cum. 

“Toji. Fushiguro.” You like using his name, don’t you?

“You held me hostage for a whole morning for some air—“

Toji kisses the rest of your complaints off your tongue. And you whine. Slot open for him with no resistance. Because under all that irritation and sarcasm, buried within the Trojan Horse, lays your supple, delectable submission. 

And he will take every opportunity to taste it. 

“I had a great time on our first date, babydoll.” Toji rasps against your swollen lips. 

The raging erection is threatening to embarrass him. There’s not enough restraint in the world to be around you any longer. Toji nestles your voice in his back pocket. The two of you watch each other with wordless, taken aback smiles as he takes slow steps toward his sports car.

Before the mechanic sinks into the driver’s seat, he makes a promise.

“Can’t wait for our second date, Mrs. Fushiguro!”

[leclercdream]

maroon

✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it

✮⋆˙ ex!carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend!lando norris x singer!reader

✮⋆˙ warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, carlos is an asshole

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername: the lips i used to call home

maroon is yours now x

view 3,485 comments

landonorris: tattooing maroon on my arm rn

↳ yourusername: ah i love having a fan

↳ landonorris: im proud of you

↳ yourusername: i love you with my whole broken heart

user1: so mom and dad are really over uh

user2: THE HEARTBREAK

user3: the marks they saw on my collarbone the rust that grew between telephones 😭😭😭😭 WHYYYY

lilymhe: yn WHY would you even write the fucking legacy lyric. i’m about to break up with alex so i can sign this properly

↳ alex_albon: excuse me?

↳ alex_albon: well maybe we could take a 3:39 break to sing it tbh

↳ yourusername: please DONT <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

f1gossip

liked by bffname, user4 and others

f1gossip: Carlos Sainz spotted in a Melbourne club with model Rebecca Donaldson after just three weeks of breakup with singer and wag of 3 years yourusername. Not only that, but if you scroll down on our page you can find that this girl is the same that was on a yacht with Carlos about two months ago 👀

tagged carlossainz55 yourusername

user1: so he really did cheat uh

user2: after 3 years i was waiting for a ring, not this :(

user3: not bffname liking this lol pls

↳ bffname: i mean if he cheats he should at least be held accountable

liked by landonorris

↳ user3: LANDO?!!!!

user4: yourusername just ruined carlando forever

↳ user5: please go to therapy

f1gossip

liked by user3, user6 and others

f1gossip: this ex couple won’t stop giving us content! Carlos Sainz and ex girlfriend yourusername seen outside a cafe arguing. Apparently he left her there crying by herself :(

According to one of our sources she was crying because of the alleged cheating from his part, and he was being insensitive about her feelings. The worst part for us? he blamed her music and touring for the downfall of the relationship 😳

tagged: carlossainz55 yourusername

user1: is he INSANE?

user2: damn who does he think he is 💀

user3: she deserved it tbh

user4: maroon hits different after this

user5: so he can says he cheated bc she was on tour but she never did even though he is always around the globe driving?

↳ user6: please and she was always with him at every gp, even arranging tour dates so they could be together 😭

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername ig stories

replies:

landonorris: damn

landonorris: when did u get hot?

↳ yourusername: when i hit puberty

↳ yourusername: when will it be your turn?

↳ landonorris: haha 🙄 omw to pick u up

lilymhe: tell me that’s song lyrics PLEASE

↳ yourusername: hehe 😈

part 2 coming soon x

sorry if there are mistakes english is not my first language

[sugarnspice630]

I wonder how would each member react that you wore a phenomenon perfume to seduce them (yk the tiktok trend,when the girlfriend wore that perfume and their boyfriend sniffing them like crazy.)

I wonder how ateez would react..

I would be happy if you do it 🥺

Hi anon! Omg I absolutely love this idea. I am also curious how Ateez would react in this situation, so let’s dive in to see what I’ve come up with! 😈🙏

Ateez's Reactions to You Using a Pheromone Perfume Around Them

A/N: Sometimes I changed the prompt to have already established the pheromone perfume or it wasn't necessarily used to seduce the member. I hope that's okay! I just got bored of essentially writing the same thing in different fonts so I had to change it up a bit for my sake, but all stories still involve the perfume! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

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

Hongjoong

Going for a night drive with Hongjoong, being the passenger princess like you loved. Listening to the music playing from the stereo and taking in the beautiful scenery of city life at night. The peaceful humming of Hongjoong singing along to the song currently playing and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Sitting at a red light waiting to turn, you decided to dig in your bag for your perfume to "touch up your scent." Fortunately for Hongjoong, the perfume of choice for the night was the pheromone perfume that has been seen all over the internet. You saw videos of how crazy it made everyone’s boyfriends react, and you wanted to try it out on him. You opened the cap and rolled the perfume on your wrists and neck, snapping the cap back on the perfume and placing it into your bag. The light changed, and Hongjoong was able to turn. Your body leaned closer to him since you were turning left, and the air in the car blew the smell of your perfume over to him. He glanced over at you to make sure you didn’t spill anything since the smell was so strong. It was a smell he had never smelled before, but it was making his body react in an animalistic way.

“Mm, b-baby what did you just put on?”

“Nothing..just my usual perfume.” You smirked, realizing it had such a quick effect on him.

“Can’t be.” He shifted in his seat with his eyes forward. “This perfume is different than your other kind.” His grip on the wheel tightens, and he looks for a place to pull over. His breathing increases heavily as he keeps leaning over to your side of the car to catch a better whiff.

“Hongjoong what are you-?” You say as he quickly whips into an almost empty parking lot, harshly puts the car in park, and unfastens his seatbelt, crawling over to you. His face dove straight into your neck, and he was sniffing you like a wild dog. You reached your hand up to his face as he breathed in your smell. 

“I’m sorry baby. We’ll get back to our drive later. I need to get more of you right now.”

Seonghwa

You were sitting in front of your vanity, getting ready for your date with Seonghwa. You were almost finished with your routine. Just a few more touch-ups you had to do. You had this perfume that Seonghwa loved when you wore it because it made him find you irresistible. Little did he know, it was a pheromone perfume that was meant to drive him crazy. You had seen it everywhere online and decided you wanted to try it out on him. You picked up your favorite lip gloss and rolled it across your lips. You see Seonghwa walking up to you in the mirror. You smiled softly as you watched him approach you.

“You look amazing darling~.” He said this as he kissed the top of your head, looking at you in the mirror.

“Thank you baby. I always try to look nice for you.”

"Well, you don’t have to try that hard~ since you always look amazing.” He rests his head on top of yours as he gently wraps his arms around you. You finished getting ready as he cuddled you. Shortly after, you finished your makeup and turned to Seonghwa.

“All done~.”

“Mmm, not yet. You’re forgetting something.” He says this as he gets up off your head to reach for the vile of pheromone perfume on the desk.

“Seonghwa I can’t wear that.”

“Please darling? I wanna put it on you.” He said it with a slight pout as he popped off the cap of the perfume, and you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he seemed so excited to help you out. He dotted the bottle along your collarbone, careful not to put on too much as it would drive him absolutely insane. He placed the cap back on the bottle and set it down. He looked you in the eyes and up and down, taking in the view before him. Leaning down to take a small whiff, the smell of the perfume fills his senses and his head. 

“Now I’ll have to fight all the men who try to come after you tonight.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand and helps you up off the chair to go on your date.

Yunho

You felt bad that every time Yunho would talk about Valorant or Spider-Man, you always had to just nod and smile. The guilt was setting in because you could not really understand what he was saying. The excitement and passion on his face was enough to keep you interested, but the information would never stick because you had no baseline, and then you felt bad when he would ask you, “Oh, remember this thing I told you?” and you couldn’t remember. To make your teaching interesting, you put on a pheromone perfume that you recently bought online. Apparently, the perfume had an effect on men that activated their hormones and made them go crazy over you. Gliding the perfume on your wrist and across your neck, making sure to put it on your sweet spots. You picked up a notebook and pen to be able to take notes to study. You walked over to where Yunho was.

“Yunho I want you to teach me about Valorant.”

“H-huh? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! I feel bad when I can’t remember the things you tell me, so give me the basics so I can study and be able to remember better.”

“Ah..o-okay. Have a seat.” He said, patting next to him, smiling and looking at you. You walked over and sat down next to him. The breeze from you sitting down went over to Yunho, and a new scent filled his nose. His breath hitched in his throat, and you gave him a confused expression.

“You alright love?”

“I-I don’t know.” He leaned in closer to you and took a deep breath. “Did you get a new perfume?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to try it.” You admitted it shyly, hiding what the perfume actually did and admiring the way Yunho was acting.

“It- it smells really good. I like it a lot.” He leaned closer to you and breathed in heavily again. Placing a hand on the back of your neck and sticking his nose into the crevice.

“Yunho- what about Valorant?”

“Valorant is the least important thing right now. Give me a few minutes with you instead.”

Yeosang

Trying out the viral pheromone perfume that so many ladies on the internet said worked wonders. After doing dozens of hours of research to find the best one, you placed an order and waited for it to come in the mail. You were busy doing other things at the time it was delivered, so Yeosang brought the package in for you.

“This has your name on it baby.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You say as you take the package and smile to yourself.

“What did you order?”

“Ah, n-nothing. Just something I saw on the internet that I wanted. People have been saying it’s really good.” You shyly smile and set the package on your side. Yeosang nods and lets you get back to your work. When he leaves the room, you excitedly open the package and examine the product. You open the box and slide out a little dark blue vial that has a ball-roll cap on the end. You took the cap off and sniffed it. You couldn’t really smell anything, but you thought maybe it would smell different on your skin. You applied it generously to your skin and popped the cap back on. Waiting a few minutes for it to soak in and trying to sniff your wrists. There was a soft vanilla scent; it was quite pleasant, but not like your everyday perfume. You wanted to see how Yeosang reacted to it, since the internet made it seem instantaneous. You walked out of your room and went over to him. 

“Did you try your thing out?” He asked as he watched you walk in. You nodded and hummed a “mmhmm”, walking over to him, hoping the smell would permeate over to him quickly.

“What do you think~?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you got.”

“It was a new perfume I wanted to try.” You said this as you held your wrist near his nose. He leaned closer to take a whiff of it and pondered for a moment.

“Did you...put enough on? It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I-I think I did..” Your voice trails off, feeling saddened and tricked by the internet yet again.

“I mean, I smell something, but it’s just not that strong.” Yeosang says a little more upbeat cause he could tell you were getting slightly upset. You sniffed your wrist again, and it still smelled the same.

“Maybe I got the wrong kind?” 

“Everyone’s skin takes perfumes differently darling. Don’t feel bad.” Yeosang reassured you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. You nodded softly and laid your head on his shoulder. He breathed in softly and noticed that something felt different about him. His body was reacting in some way to this new perfume you had on. He tried not to notice what was going on, but as he breathed in more, the scent only got more and more overwhelming for him. He fidgeted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but notice. 

“You alright Yeosang?”

“I-I think I understand what this perfume does now.” He quickly said this under his breath before he turned over and placed you down on the couch, diving his nose into your neck to take in more of the scent. "Y-You should wear this more often my sweet."

San

Secretly applying this new pheromone perfume that you bought online in the room next to San’s gaming room. You bought it because you heard it smells really good, and men will find you irresistible. You unexpectedly got a call from one of your friends begging you to meet up for dinner, as you haven’t hung out in forever because of being busy with work. You accepted, seeing as San was busy with gaming. You walked into his room, tapped on his shoulder, and he removed his headphone from one ear to listen to you. You tell him you were going to go out with your friend. He nodded quickly, breathed in, and was immediately stunned by what he was smelling. He excused himself from the game and removed his headset, standing up and touching all over you, pushing himself closer to you.

“Darling, d-did you do something different?”

“No, just the usual.” You smirked to yourself, surprised it had this quick of an effect on him. He pressed his nose into the crevice of your neck, breathing heavily through his nose. “S-Sannie I have to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls as he pushes his body even closer to yours and breathes in quicker to gather more of your scent. You bring your hands up to try to push him off of you so that you can get ready to go meet up with your friend. 

“San…I-I have to go- my friend-“ Your words are being cut off by San kissing and rubbing his nose along your neck. 

“Sorry darling, but you’re not meeting with your friend tonight. I need you here with me instead.”

Mingi

“I got this for you love.” Mingi said as he handed you a small gift bag. You smiled and awed as you were taken aback by his sudden and kind action. Mingi always loved buying you things that he thought you would like. You carefully opened the bag and unrolled the tissue paper that was wrapped around the small, long, rectangular box inside the bag. You examined the box and saw it was a type of roll-on perfume. The label had a bunch of different fruits on the side, so you assumed it had a fruity smell. You smiled and looked at Mingi with loving eyes. He had a flustered look on his face.

“Thank you Mingi! I appreciate it very much.”

"Ah, it’s nothing really…I-I saw that a lot of girls online were buying it and saying how good it was, and my girl always has to have the best.” He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides.

“I love you so much Mingi.” You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he smiled at your gesture. “I’ll go try it out right now.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and opened the perfume box. You sniffed the cap and couldn’t really smell anything at first. Applying it gently to your skin, you sniffed where you placed it and got a hint of a citrus smell. It was a light scent that you could use in case of an emergency. Setting the tube back on the bathroom counter, you walked back out to the room Mingi was in.

“This smells pretty good Mingi, thank you!” You said with glee as you sat down beside him. As you sat down, the air blew the perfume smell over to him, and he breathed in. The intoxicating smell immediately filled his nostrils and filled his head with thoughts. You saw him tense up as you sat down and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah everything’s fine.” He smiled and shifted in his seat. You dismissed his odd behavior and cuddled up next to him. Mingi kept shifting in his seat and leaning down to smell the perfume on you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi holted his actions and sighed.

“I have to tell you something….that perfume…it’s a..pheromone perfume.” He stuttered out and couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“O-oh…” Your face flushed as it connected why he bought it for you.

“Yeah…and now my brain and body are on fire, and I need to show you how you just made me feel.”

Wooyoung

You had had a small argument with Wooyoung earlier in the day, which resulted in you not talking to each other that much. You both had errands you needed to run, so you went together just to save time. Stupidly, you had forgotten something inside the house and asked if he could run inside quick and get it for you since you were already buckled in the driver’s seat. He silently nodded, let out a small "mhm,” and got out of the car to get your item. You couldn’t handle Wooyoung not talking to you even after you apologized, so you decided to try out this pheromone perfume that one of your friends had given you. You rolled it on your wrists and neck, the spots that make the scent stick the best. You saw Wooyoung coming back in the rear view mirror and quickly placed the perfume back in your bag. He opened the door and handed you the item you had forgotten, leaning close to you to make sure you didn’t have to stretch too far to reach it. You heard him take a sniff through his nose, and he paused for a second.

“Are you wearing that perfume?”

“What are you talking about Youngie?”

“That perfume. I’ve been seeing it all over the internet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just my normal perfume-“ Your words were cut off by Wooyoung diving his face into your neck and placed his hand on the other side. He kissed the side of your face.

“You smell so good baby.” You smirk to yourself, seeing how feral he was acting over your scent. Driving his nose further into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck.

“Are you not mad at me anymore?”

“I couldn’t be mad at you anymore, but our errands are going to have to wait a little longer.”

Jongho

Jongho was planning on going out with the boys today, but you decided to try to see if you could keep him home with you instead. You secretly rolled on the pheromone perfume that you got a while ago that he really seemed to like on you, for obvious reasons. Just before he walked into your room to tell you he was getting ready to go, he made a small knock on your door. You greeted him with a smile, and he smiled right back at you. Walking over towards you to give you a kiss goodbye.

"Alright baby, the boys are waiting for me outside."

"Okie, bye sweetheart. I love you. Have fun!" You tell him as he leans down towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves. After the kiss, he makes his way back over to the door of your room, but turns around before fully walking out, looking back at you and softly licking his lips. He walks back over to you again, and you're confused as to why he came back. Leaning down close to you to get another whiff of your scent. He has this huge smile on his face as he leans back up.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What do you mean Jongho?"

"The-the perfume? That I like. The special perfume?" The smile on his face is so contagious, you can't help but smile back at him as well.

"No~." You tease him as you softly laugh at his reaction to it, knowing that you are getting exactly what you want. "Just go have fun with the boys!"

"O-okay yeah, you're right. I'm going now." He says as he slowly walks backwards to the door, still smiling like a fool at you. "Love you!"

"Love you too baby." He reaches for the door handle and goes to pull it shut. Not a moment passes and he opens the door back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie instead?" Popping his head out from the side of the door.

"What happened with going out with the boys~?" You can't help but laugh at him wanting to stay with you, and it's all thanks to the perfume you put on.

"Y-yeah, I think I'd rather go out with you though babe. Stay in for the night, you know?" He waltzes his way back into your room, coming closer to you and catching another whiff of the perfume.

"I guess I can't say no to you~."

"Oh, I know you can't." His face is pressed into your neck, and you feel the gentle air coming in and out of his nose as he breathes in and out, taking in your scent.

~~

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