#and undeniably best season opener | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago

Text

Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

1K notes · View notes

propertyofwicked · 6 months ago

Text

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

978 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 4 months ago

Text

Fishy Business

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: you are Lando Norris' girlfriend, determined to get him to try fish despite his stubborn refusal

______________________________________________________________

Lando Norris, your boyfriend and an undeniable force on the Formula 1 circuit, was also the most stubborn eater you’d ever encountered. For all his daring maneuvers on the track, he approached food with the caution of someone facing a life-threatening situation. His diet was the carefully curated mix of nutrients and proteins that a professional athlete needed to stay in peak condition, but there was one thing you couldn’t get him to eat: fish.

It wasn’t that he was allergic or that he’d had a bad experience with it in the past—Lando simply detested the idea of eating fish. The mere mention of it had him crinkling his nose in distaste. You’d tried multiple times to introduce it into his meals, always to be met with that same stubborn resistance. It was the one challenge he refused to take on, no matter how much you teased or coaxed him.

But tonight, you were determined to change that.

You had carefully planned the meal, choosing a recipe that would be impossible for anyone, even Lando, to resist. The centerpiece was a perfectly seared salmon fillet, seasoned with lemon, garlic, and herbs—flavors you knew he loved in other dishes. You’d paired it with his favorite roasted vegetables and a light, refreshing salad, hoping that the overall appeal of the meal might disguise the fact that the main course was, in fact, fish.

As you set the table, the delicious aroma filled the kitchen, making your mouth water. You knew Lando would be home soon, fresh from a day at the simulator, and you were eager to see how he’d react. Would he recognize the scent immediately, or would he only realize what was on his plate once he sat down?

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of Lando’s keys hitting the table in the hallway. He called out for you, his voice light and filled with the warmth that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“Hey, love, where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you weren’t plotting to get him to finally eat something he’d spent his whole life avoiding.

Lando appeared in the doorway, still in his workout gear, looking adorably disheveled with a few strands of hair falling into his eyes. He grinned when he saw you, walking over to wrap his arms around your waist and press a kiss to your forehead.

“Something smells amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a mix of hunger and affection.

You turned in his arms to face him, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. “I made dinner. I think you’re going to love it.”

He gave you a skeptical look, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffed the air again. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you sit down and find out?” you teased, gently pushing him toward the dining table.

Lando raised an eyebrow but complied, taking his seat and looking at the beautifully arranged plate in front of him. The roasted vegetables and salad caught his attention first, but then his gaze landed on the salmon, and you saw the exact moment he realized what it was.

“Is this… fish?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and mild horror.

You nodded, doing your best to keep your expression innocent. “It’s salmon. It’s really good for you, Lando. High in protein, rich in omega-3s—all the stuff you need to stay fit and healthy.”

He looked at you like you’d just suggested he eat a plate of raw liver. “You know I don’t eat fish,” he said, pushing the plate slightly away as if it might bite him.

You placed a hand on his, your touch gentle and persuasive. “You’ve never even tried it, babe. How do you know you don’t like it?”

“I just… know,” he replied, his voice lacking the usual confidence he had when making decisions. “The smell, the texture… it’s just not for me.”

You tilted your head, giving him a look that you knew he had a hard time resisting. “But you trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Lando said immediately, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to figure out where this was going.

“Then trust me when I say you’ll like this,” you said, your voice dropping to a soft, almost seductive tone. “Just one bite. For me?”

He hesitated, clearly torn between his aversion to fish and his desire to please you. You could see the internal battle playing out on his face, and you decided it was time to up the ante. Slowly, you stood up and walked around the table, stopping behind him. You leaned down, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, “If you try it, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Lando shivered under your touch, his breath hitching slightly. You could feel the tension in his shoulders as he considered your offer. He was being stubborn, as usual, but you knew you were close to winning him over.

With a dramatic sigh, he finally picked up the fork, speared a small piece of the salmon, and lifted it to his mouth. You watched as he hesitated one last time before taking the bite, his eyes closing as if bracing himself for the worst.

He chewed slowly, his expression shifting from one of grim determination to mild surprise. After a moment, he swallowed and set the fork down, looking up at you with a mix of resignation and amusement.

“It’s… not as bad as I thought,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice laced with a hint of defeat.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He chuckled, leaning back into your embrace. “Okay, you win. But I’m still not eating another bite.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, your lips grazing his earlobe again. “Just one more bite? For me?”

Lando sighed, but you could tell he was starting to relent. “You really don’t play fair, do you?”

“Never,” you whispered, your voice low and suggestive. “But you like it when I don’t.”

His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you around to sit on his lap. You let out a soft laugh as you straddled him, your hands resting on his chest as you gazed down at him. “I knew you’d be stubborn about this,” you said, your voice teasing.

“I’m not stubborn,” he replied, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. “I just know what I like.”

“And you like me, right?” you asked, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his.

“More than anything,” Lando murmured, his eyes darkening with desire as he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss.

You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of warmth and sweetness that made your head spin. Lando’s hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as the kiss grew more passionate, more demanding.

When you finally pulled back for air, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together as you tried to regain some semblance of control. But the hunger in Lando’s eyes told you that any attempt at restraint was futile.

“I tried the fish,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Now, about that reward…”

You grinned, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling the way his breath hitched under your touch. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” you replied, your voice filled with promise. “But first, you have to finish your dinner.”

Lando groaned, dropping his head back against the chair in exasperation. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone playful but firm. “But just think about how good the reward will be when you do.”

He sighed dramatically but picked up the fork again, spearing another small piece of salmon and bringing it to his mouth. You watched with satisfaction as he chewed and swallowed, his expression less pained than before.

“See? It’s not so bad,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again, this time softer, more lingering.

Lando hummed against your lips, his free hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m only doing this for you,” he murmured between kisses. “You know that, right?”

You smiled, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “I know. And that’s why I love you.”

His expression softened at your words, a warm, adoring smile spreading across his face. “I love you too,”

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando noris

557 notes · View notes

saintobio · 4 months ago

Text

⊹★⋆ two wheels and a hot guy.

pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader tags. 1k wc, biker boy x biker girl au, non-sorcerer au, crack, fluff, dirty jokes (?), satoru rides an s1k, biker!sukuna mentions, same au as my other fic. sparked by a random idea bcos why haven't we thought abt biker!gojo honestly? he would be so funny on tiktok if he was a biker boy lmao

You’ve all heard about Biker!Sukuna. That famous biker boy on biketok who has tattoos and rides a blacked out Yamaha R1.

But have you heard about Biker!Gojou?

Well… For starters, Satoru Gojou wasn’t a seasoned biker.

In fact, he was more of a poser than anything, but you’d never catch him admitting that. His prized BMW S1000RR, the crown jewel of superbikes, was more about image than skill. The sleek, aggressive lines of the machine, combined with the prestige of the BMW logo, were all he needed to keep up appearances on TikTok. And he learned that appearances were everything, especially when Sukuna, with his obnoxious face tattoos and natural charisma, hogged the limelight (especially from all the girls!) with every post, even with a girlfriend already in tow. The sheer audacity of that scum was enough to drive Satoru up the wall. Fine, he had to admit. He was jealous of Sukuna’s popularity and the fact that he snatched a cute booktok girlfriend as his backpack.

Suguru, his best friend and fellow biker, didn’t let him forget it either. As they stood by their bikes outside Barnes & Noble to spot booktok girls, Suguru glanced at Satoru’s liter bike and smirked.

“Pretentious motherfucker,” he muttered, slinging a leg over his Yamaha MT-10, the less flashy but undeniably badass naked bike. Unlike Gojou, Suguru didn’t care about clout. The MT-10 was all about raw power and agility, the kind of bike a real rider appreciated. “You only got that thing because it’s a BMW. You gonna actually ride it for real one of these days?”

“Shut up.” Satoru rolled his eyes, adjusting his white Alpinestars riding gloves while holding his phone up to go live on TikTok. Starting with a 1000cc as a beginner bike wasn’t a very wise choice, but still... “People love the S1K, you know that.”

And let me tell you about Satoru’s favorite time of the day (or night). It was whenever he would go live, and the comments would pour in as soon as his stream started. That was when he could lavish in his social media presence the most.

user19463: Bro, when are you gonna show us some actual riding content?

anon875biker: All that thirst trapping. Bet you don’t even take that thing out of the garage.

harleysRbetter: U punks R ruining the riding community!

Gojou grinned at the screen, winking at both his followers and haters. “Alright, boomers, calm down. I’ll post some riding content soon. Don’t cry too much before then, yeah?”

r1.skn: Sir, can you do wheelies?

Suguru found that comment hilarious, recognizing the username and knowing exactly who it belonged to—Sukuna. But Satoru’s competitive nature kicked in instantly while he continued to scroll through the comments. “Yeah, I can do wheelies. Ignore Sukuna, guys. Focus on me!”

msbikerluvr: Still looking for a backpack, Gojou? Lmao.

“About the backpack… you know, I’m just waiting for the right one. Applications are still open—” He was about to launch into another witty retort when a sound cut through the chatter of his stream—it was a deep, throaty rev that sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Satoru’s head immediately whipped to the direction of the sound, just in time to see a flash of race blue zipping down the street.

There you were, riding a Yamaha R7, your black Dainese jacket hugging your curves as you leaned into the wind. The way you handled the bike, so smooth and confident, it was as if the motorcycle was an extension of you.

“Damn, she’s hot.” Without a second thought, Satoru ended the live stream abruptly, “Gotta go, guys. Someone just stole my heart,” and pocketed his phone.

“Did you seriously just—” Suguru started, but Satoru was already mounting his S1000RR.

“Catch you later, Suguru!” he called, gunning the engine without even looking at his best friend. Soon enough, the 1000cc bike roared to life when he shifted into first gear, and he sped off in pursuit of the blue R7.

He caught sight of you at the next red light, the signal holding you in place just long enough for him to catch up. Thank God there was no sign of a biker boyfriend around when he pulled up alongside you, visor down, adrenaline still kicking him alive. He tried to get your attention by revving his S1K, and you turned your head slightly, barely acknowledging him as you pulled your visor up and revealed the prettiest eyes Gojou had ever seen.

Satoru flipped up his visor too, then flashed his most charming grin. “Hey there,” he said, trying to keep his voice smooth and casual. Like it was a normal encounter. “You’re fast. I like that.”

You may have rolled your eyes, but he could tell you were smirking underneath the balaclava as you talked through the Cardo intercom linked to your AGV K1s. “And you’re obnoxious. I don’t like that.”

Oooh, she’s spicy. He laughed at the silly thought in his head, unbothered by your dismissal. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get to know the girl who stole my heart in the middle of a live stream.”

“Your heart, huh?” you teased, revving her engine just slightly. “Sounds like you’re more interested in what’s under my jacket.”

“Now that’s a baseless accusation,” he retorted, leaning in slightly. “I don’t do anything on the first night, you know. I usually wait until the second, after a nice dinner. I’m a gentleman like that.”

His remark made you snort, shaking your head at his boldness. “You’re a ridiculous guy.”

“But I’m also serious,” he added, his voice sincere despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Let me take you out, just dinner. No strings, no funny business—unless you’re into that kind of thing. I don’t mind that, either.”

Your laughter sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. “You’ve got guts, mister. I’ll give you that.” Has anyone told you how hot you looked while leaning into your bike? Damn. Satoru was distracted, checking you out for a moment until you spoke again, “Fine. One dinner. But don’t think you’re getting into my pants just because you ride a fancy bike.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, grinning from ear to ear.

The light turned green, and without another word, you revved your engine and took off with Satoru right on your tail. The chase was on, but this time, it wasn’t just about the thrill of the ride.

For Satoru Gojou, it was about something far more exhilarating—winning the attention of the most intriguing biker girl he’d ever met.

And perhaps, the biker boyfriend and backpack girlfriend content he’d been hoping to post on Tiktok may slightly change into a different direction than he expected.

#bruhh him and suguru would be like bongo and takaro fr #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #biker!gojo #biker!gojou #biker boy au #jjk x reader #gojo x reader

507 notes · View notes

cookielixie · 20 days ago

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable.

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually.

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside.

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’”

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost.

But then Jisung appeared.

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing.

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful.

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside.

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful.

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway.

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix.

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?”

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?”

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.”

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.”

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?”

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?”

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?”

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.”

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers.

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either?

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this.

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter.

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?”

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.”

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?”

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.”

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way.

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.”

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.”

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.”

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.”

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.”

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it.

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why.

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads.

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics.

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it.

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two.

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh.

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?”

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache.

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery.

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?”

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.”

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?”

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.”

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.”

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not.

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?”

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.”

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.”

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?”

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.”

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?”

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.”

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again.

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.”

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care?

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?”

Felix blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?”

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.”

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.”

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.”

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.”

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.”

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.”

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.”

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist.

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside.

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to?

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze.

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view.

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady.

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.”

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?”

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.”

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.”

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you.

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?”

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below.

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless.

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile.

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.”

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.”

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek.

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.”

260 notes · View notes

leeny-leens · 8 days ago

Text

Money talks | T.N. X Reader

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theodore loves giving you his credit card on the first of December

Warnings: a mild innuendo but it’s nothing bad, not proof read

Content: Reader gives mild gold digger vibes but I promise she’s not, fem reader, obsessed Theodore, Theodore being a rich bitch, established relationship

WC: 1.53k

A/N: credit to @bunny-1111 for the whole scenario/idea! You can find the post here

Theodore had never quite liked the holiday season, until you that is. It wasn’t anything special to him, all that festive junk shoved down his throat left and right ever since he moved to England was mildly annoying at best. It didn’t help that Christmas at the Nott household was a rather cold affair, no affection, no family spirit, just another day in the calendar. The most fun he had during that time was spending unholy amounts of money on the most unnecessary things on earth, but even that lost its spark on the third year.

After meeting you however, his view on the holiday season changed quite a bit. While you weren’t an enthusiast about it yourself, you always mused how much you liked the aesthetic of it all. The seasonal specialities, the atmosphere and the lights never failed to make you smile, and by proxy, him too. Early on, he realised that this time of the years was the perfect opportunity to spend money on you without any protest from your side. No matter how much you muttered and cursed, he knew that deep down, you did in fact enjoy him buying you gifts, the thoughtful ones where it was evident he had put effort and time into them. And over the years, he’d successfully worn you down, enough to unveil the greedy thing that you were underneath the walls and layers of modesty and financial hyper-awareness.

And that led to what Theodore believed to be his favourite holiday tradition between you both.

The annual card giving.

Oh how he looked forward to it every goddamn year, watching the calendar with hungry eyes as November flew by and the first of December approached. And today was finally the day he’d been waiting for, the first of December had finally arrived, ushering in his favorite time of the year; the time where he got to watch his girl spend his money as she pleased.

Like every year ever since the two of you moved together, he found himself on your shared bed, a book in his hands as he sat with his back against the wall. His eyes glanced at the clock - 06:02 pm- and his entire body tensed with smug anticipation as the sound of keys at the front door echoed through the empty halls. He heard the door swing open and click shut softly, and in his mind, he could picture you discarding your jacket and bag at the entrance before padding through the apartment to the bedroom in your socks.

“Theo, love, I’m home,” you called out, voice laced with exhaustion yet an undeniable edge of eagerness. He didn’t have time to get up from the bed before you entered the room, your gaze set on his form with adoration and a hint of expectation. His book had officially been abandoned now, tented on the bed to the side as he took in your form. You’d worn one of your favourite dark knit sweaters, the one that was long enough to be passed as a dress in its own right, and the dark tights underneath confirmed that you’d gone with that look on purpose. Despite you coming home straight from work, he knew you’d chosen this rather unconventional outfit in the morning specifically for your outing after work, for you liked to look put together when you started off your spending craze.

“Welcome back, tesoro,” he drawled, his eyes scanning every dip and curve of your body with that half smirk he knew drove you crazy. He watched as you beelined for your dresser, rummaging around for something while you rambled on and on about your day. He listened to every word, occasionally adding comments or noises of agreement with whatever you’d just said. When you bent down to retrieve a pair of shoes from the bottom of the dresser, he let out a particular long hum, eliciting a chuckle from you. You straightened up and turned around to stare at him, hands on your hips with an amused expression on your face. “Did you just stare at-“ “Yes, I was staring at your ass,” he replied, cutting you off before you could even finish the sentence. His brazen and shameless admission only caused you to roll your eyes as you stepped closer to him, tossing a small leather purse and dark shoes on the bed as you stalked up to him.

“Think ya should compensate that behaviour, Mr.Nott,” you hummed when you stood right in front of him, your hands moving to cup his cheeks gently. Instinctively, his hands held your hips firmly, kneading the flesh gently. “Oh?” His eyebrow rose as he stared up at you through half-lidded eyes, giving you that look that made you weak in the knees. One of his hands dropped from your hips, and he didn’t miss the minuscule pout on your lips at the action.

Without once breaking the eye contact between you both, his hand blindly reached to the first drawer of his bedside table, fishing out a black card that he held lazily between his fingers.

“Is that compensation enough, doll?” He asked, an amused smile tugging on his lips as he watched your eyes darken with hunger when you spotted the card. You bent down, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek and lips before snatching the card from his fingers with a grin. “You’re the best Theo, like really the best thing in the whole world,” you declared, quickly stepping away to retrieve your shoes and bag. You were in a hurry, that much was certain, and Theodore had an inkling that you’d return very, very late tonight with many, many bags in tow. Not that he minded of course, he was a man of patience and he knew that he’d get to remind you exactly why he was the best thing in the world. It helped immensely that every year, you made sure to get him a little gift on your first day of spending spree, something he could unwrap later so to say.

“You’d look nice in green this year,” he said while watching you fix your clothes and adorn yourself with accessories he’d gotten you over the years. A pearl necklace with a matching bracelet and earrings, a multitude of rings raging from simple bands to more intricate designs and lastly, just a bit of lipstick before you slung your bag on your arm. You turned to face him, giving him a twirl to show off your outfit. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied amused, “What do you think?”

He didn’t answer at first, taking his sweet time to ingrain in every detail about you into his mind. His eyes lingered on your neck, where the pearl necklace sat and when they finally faced yours, his face had broken out into the smuggest expression you’d ever seen on him. “You look good in my money,” he answered, pride evident in his tone, “Like a fucking goddess, all dressed up with things I gave you.”

The comment brought a faint blush to your face, yet your confidence didn’t falter or break, it only surged at his attention. You turned to the door, swinging it open before giving him a look over your shoulder. “Well, this goddess will go spend more of your money then,” you announced with a wink “I’ll see you later, I love you.”

“I love you too, bella.” His eyes watched your form disappear down the hallway, and only when he heard the door open and close did he pick his book back up again, the small smile tugging on his face never once faltering as he thought about whatever you would get up to tonight and for the rest of the month.

Just a few days later, he got his answer while sitting on the couch in the living room. He’d just retrieved the mail that had been delivered this morning, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the heavy envelope bearing his name and his bank’s seal. After sorting through the rest of the mail, he sat down on the couch, legs spread in his usual casual yet elegant manner as he leaned back to inspect his bank statements. He skimmed everything from November, a few purchases here and there and then chuckled upon seeing the string of numbers and purchases from the first of December onwards. His low laugh was tinged with pride and satisfaction, scanning each and every item and transaction to take note of what you’d gotten, any new projects you might be into and what new, daring investments you decided to splurge on this season. A six figure transaction drew out a particularly satisfied hum from him, feeling nothing but proud of his girl for spending what was rightfully hers. Theodore Nott was not generous or kind to anyone, but when it came to you? He’d buy you Earth itself if it meant seeing that bright smile even for a second.

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys #reader #x reader #hp #slytherin

225 notes · View notes

misojunnie · 3 months ago

Text

FRIGHT NIGHT 𖣂

a collection of horror stories…

with halloween around the corner, everything in your life begins to change. nothing feels right. your coffee tastes bitter, you toss restlessly in bed, even the gentlest breeze feels like ice. it’s undeniable; things are changing.

general taglist: @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf @shixna606 @kumiwon @heeaxvhhoon

COVET 𖣂

yang jungwon & nishimura riki.

how far would you go for love?

your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to kill a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 5/10

status: available

see the trailer.

TRUTH & JUSTICE 𖣂

jay park & lee heeseung.

those who sin, must repent.

brothers jay and heeseung had always been the sweethearts of the school. heeseung; devilishly handsome, the brawn of the operation. and jay; stoic but sweet tempered, the brains. there was something mysterious about them; it’s what generated the obsessive fans. you’d always wondered why they never took interest in the girls who hysterically chased them—but you’d soon find out.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 7/10

status: available

see the trailer.

KEROSENE 𖣂

there's a fine line between delusion and reality.

jake sim & park sunghoon.

jake sim was your boyfriend. park sunghoon was your best friend. neither knew about each other. you weren’t sure where your heart belonged, and you watch as your life begins to tear in half from the secrecy and guilt. but just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, an earth-shattering secret changes everything.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 5/10

status: available

see the trailer.

PAPER DOLL 𖣂

beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

kim sunoo & park sunghoon.

you had known sunoo since you were children. your best friend for as long as you could remember, you had always assumed that your relationship was strictly that of friends. but when you develop an intense crush on your classmate, you begin to notice sunoo’s behavior rapidly changing.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 6/10

status: unavailable

GUMI 𖣂

everyone has their secrets.

all.

gumi used to be a dreary town where nothing interesting happened. that all ended when a psychotic killer was set loose in a high school, leaving a classroom full of students wondering who to trust, and if they knew each other in the first place.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 8/10

status: unavailable

ALL EYES ON US 𖣂

trust no one. not even yourself.

all.

young and beautiful, your life has always been a whirlwind of popularity, parties, and lighthearted fun. but your perfect life begins to fracture when a relentless stalker comes out of the dark to haunt you, and as you find yourself running out of time, the lines between paranoia and reality start to blur.

taglist: open!

scare rating: 7/10

status: unavailable

a/n: hello all!! I’m dropping an enhypen october series (which will hopefully be completed hehe) in celebration of halloween! I love the scary season, so I’m veryyy excited to connect back to my horror roots ❤️ get excited!

239 notes · View notes

fuckyeahimafangirl · 10 days ago

Text

I come here late to give my opinion on what Nicole Maines said in her book about the Supercorp fandom (go to Twitter for more info, but she basically gave her point of view of things as a queer actor on the show having expected things from the queer fans, confirmed we were being queerbaited while also blaming us for some actors getting fired). I appreciate her side of things and feel for her. But reading that I felt that A LOT was overlooked, especially the context of it all. So sit back if you care enough to read this and come with me as I go on a rant and we go down memory lane to give some context into what it was like to watch Supergirl live as a Supercorp fan.

The first season of Supergirl had its fair share of ships. People liked Kara/Cat, Kara/James, Kara/Win maybe anyone? I don't remember that one but I'm sure there were people out there who liked them. Some people even liked Alex/Kara (a conversation for another time). Kara/Cat shippers could also like Kara/James, because both ships had some strong foundations in the narrative, they were undeniably good ships, regardless of how you feel about age-difference relationships or straight relationships lol. There wasn't mostly an issue, except with the ones that liked Kara/Alex.

In between the first and second season of Supergirl it was announced that a main character would be gay. They didn't say who, though. Speculation began, of course. They did say that Maggie Sawyer was coming to the show but it was not confirmed that she was going to be a lesbian and even less whose love interest.

Then the second season premiered. And in the very first episode Kara Danvers meets Lena Luthor. Their scenes together were filled with sexual tension from the very beginning, look at their meeting scene without context and a bit of an open mind and most people will see their chemistry and think that maybe Kara was meeting her soulmate. And the first scene of Supergirl meeting Lena Luthor? It was already drawing a parallel between them and Lois/Clark, one of most iconic, recognizable and undeniable canon ships of all time. Drawing parallels between these two ships was the creators of the show's favorite pastime and it started from day one, before the ship had any fans because we hadn't met Lena just yet.

But in that episode we did meet her. And we fell in love fast. Because their interactions and the interest concept of Lena's character were good. Could it really be that Kara was the main gay character? Could it really be that they were going to give us an epic love story with Supergirl and a family member of her family's historically known enemy? Could they dare to make the famous superhero anything other than straight?

It wasn't just a delusion on our part at that time. It was a real possibility based on real facts. Kara had suddenly dropped the guy she spent the entire previous season chasing after. She got him and dumped him for no good reason (the writers didn't bother to give it a good excuse) and in the same episode she meets this woman, at the start of the season we were going to discover a main gay character.

These are all facts.

A few episodes later Maggie Sawyer makes her debut and it's clear that she's Alex's love interest from the first moment. Cool. It's not Kara but at least it's Alex (because, at the time, we know, WE KNOW, that they don't have two lesbian/queer women characters in the same show unless they're dating each other. How could we think that gay people will surround themselves with other gay people? silly us), that was the reaction: We still LOVED that it was Alex, because it still made sense. And it was difficult to find Sanvers fanfic without it having Supercorp in it because we were all the same people, of course most of us liked both ships.

Now, I obviously don't know her, but I seriously don't think that Chyler can say she felt overlooked by the fans that season. Alex's coming out scenes were some of the best we had seen in our entire lives up until that point, and we made that known. Not all of us might have been on board with Sanvers (some storyline choices could've been questionable) but with Alex? No one loved her more than the queer Supergirl fans. And in the meantime Supercorp kept getting screen time, their friendship progressing in a Clois kind of way that was beautiful to witness. While Maggie and Alex's relationship advanced pretty quickly from an "I'm not gay" to a rejection to a proper first kiss, Supercorp was building a bit more organically as Supergirl kept saving Lena's life, as Lena opened up only to Kara, trusting her all the while Kara was keeping this huge secret from her. We ate that shit up, of course we did.

After season two was over we got the news that Floriana Lima (Maggie) was going to leave the show. I remember Chyler saying that she wanted to do right by us and whoever came next was gonna stay. And I'm not faulting Chyler for what came next, at all. Chyler was and always will be one of the best things on Supergirl and she has always treated the fandom with the utmost respect and love. And I hope she only received the same treatment back (and I hate to know she got those letters from people threatening to kill themselves, but let's have a little compassion for those people and their mental health, I hope they're doing well).

So Maggie left. And while some fans were not coping well with that, most fans understood it was the actress' decision. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the decision the writers made by making the breakup about not wanting babies when they were about to get married. How on Earth (any Earth) a couple don't talk about that particular issue BEFORE deciding to get married? It was an easy way out. But okay, it's just a TV show, I don't write it, we can move on from that... In the same season, at the same time this whole discussion and breakup occurs, the very same person who wanted to have kids has a meet-cute with a SINGLE MOTHER, Sam. The story was full of promise, she had a kid already with whom Alex got along amazingly, there was great chemistry between all three of them, Sam also had a dark secret being basically her sister's most powerful enemy, their relationship was mostly well built throughout the entire season. But guess what? She wasn't her new love interest, and left at the end of it.

A lot of Supercorp fans LOVED AgentReign (Sam/Alex), by the way. A lot of Supercorp fans also loved ReignCorp (Sam/Lena) and a few even loved AgentCorp (Lena/Alex) and SuperReign (lol what was the name of this ship? I don't remember but Kara/Sam). And guess what? There wasn't a war between us. We were mostly the same people multishipping because it's fun and because these were interesting characters with interesting relationships created by the writers. We were inventing and wishing for stuff, but the foundations were laid for us, some (most) things were there and most of us were just screaming that we liked what we were being given and wanted more of that.

And that's why come season 4, some people were having a hard time accepting Dansen. Because we were mourning the loss of Sam and her relationship with Alex, the what ifs are always the worst, no matter the situation. But most Supercorp fans embraced Kelly (and Azie, we love Azie and what we got to see of her relationship with Chyler, and Katie and Nicole), the vast majority of us ended up loving Dansen despite the writers not always doing a great job at writing their arcs. And it's awful that some fans treated her and other members of the cast horribly, but that was by far a small portion of the Supergirl fandom in general, and especially the Supercorp fandom. And, by the way, as a side note because racism was part of the problem for a minority of the fandom, A LOT of us in the Supercorp side of it are not white people from the US, A LOT of us are from other countries/races/cultures (that can be racist too of course, but the point is we don't know the races and motives of everyone behind a keyboard).

And that season most of us also embraced Nia because she was the first trans superhero, because of her queerness, because she was an awesome fun character, because she was relatable and geeky like most of us. We embraced her, her relationship with Kara and her relationship with Brainy. And we showed that by trending Nia related things, by adding Nia to our fanfics and fanarts. Nia was a Supercorp ally for most of us and we didn't exclude her from the art because we loved her as much as we love some of the other characters in the show.

Now, if Kara would have had, after the first season, one male love interest that was decent enough, we would have still love and wanted Supercorp, that's true (especially when it had been years of build-up) but most of us probably would have liked the pairing anyway, because we loved Kara Danvers and wanted her to be happy and to have the love she wanted at the beginning of the show (which she didn't get, by the way).

But the writers decided to give her, instead, another man who didn't treat her well. And I couldn't honestly tell you half of William's storyline because I couldn't care less. The creators of the show didn't make me care. Hell, I didn't even see Kara cared enough about that character. The writers should know their audience and should know that the audience needs moments to make them care about the characters, the writers have the power to make that happen. Many times I've seen a fandom hate a character one episode and love them by the next one, because sometimes all it takes is one good scene, or one good arc. William never had that. And now we have confirmation of what we knew all along, that maybe they were writing half-assed storylines for their love interests because they were too busy trying to figure out new ways to queerbait us. If they would have put a quarter of that effort into creating good love interests for Kara and/or Lena (but especially Kara), most of this conversation wouldn't still be happening 3 years later.

We embraced Andrea Rojas, we embraced her so much that we shipped her with Lena. Most of us weren't the blind Supercorp-or-nothing crazy fans a lot of people to this day make us out to be. When things were good, we mostly liked them. But please, please, let's be honest here, a lot of the time Supergirl was not a great-written show. And I get that those are Nicole's friends but a little objectivity, especially after all these years, would have come a long way.

These past few days I've read a couple of people saying Supercorp was the only good thing about the show. Those kinds of people were and still are a very very minority. A lot of us started the show before Supercorp existed and LOVED (still love) the Danvers sisters with all of our hearts. And the writers, at times, didn't know how to keep up with that relationship, the one that at first was the very center of the show, all that well either.

Most Supercorp fans didn't actually like that the 100th episode revolved all around Supercorp. 1) Because it was queerbaiting at its finest. 2) because it should've been about the Danvers sisters. Or at least about all Supergirl's most important relationships in equal measure. Yes, Lena was a big part of her, but ALEX EVEN MORE SO. The fandom didn't make that happen, we didn't fire any actor either. These were decisions made by the people who had the power to make anything in the show happen. If we would have had our way we all know what we would have done, and no, it definitely was not p**n (the most used AO3 tags for our ship speak for themselves).

I didn't see Nicole's last paragraph on the subject shared much. A lot of people didn't see that she acknowledged a small portion of the good the Supercorp fandom did.

But by the time you get to it, you already have a bad taste in your mouth. Because it still reads as if she's talking about us all without a care that "the toxic fans" were just a loud minority. Not to say that the good guys weren't louder, because Supercorp is still what it is to this day because we're still loud. So why is there very little mention of that? The way we supported Nia's episode? The way we supported Kelly's?

And because we were having fun and we were loud about our love for two fictional characters, WE WERE ALSO RECEIVING THREATS from some toxic fans, hell, the day before yesterday some fans were receiving death threats like it's 2017. Everything she says the cast and crew were dealing with, the Supercorp fans were dealing with it as well, and more so because the toxic people felt validated by the choices the creators made. Validated by some writers on Twitter making it worse. Validated by some of the actors who were also mocking us. We were all called delusional, and that was the most chill thing you could be called.

I understand her point of view, and I imagine that was not a great first experience in that kind of set, and I would love to have the opportunity to talk to actors about this topic that fascinates me (relationship between fandoms and cast/crew). But context is important, to see other people's point of views is important when having these conversations. She felt her own community wasn't supporting her when most of us were and that didn't come across at all. Not even with her final words.

The fact is, they were hurt by a small part of their own fandom (which, by the way, they have no idea how old those toxic fans were. Not to say that adults are not toxic. But we, as the non-toxic adults, should also think of the demographic and react accordingly). And most of us, the queer Supercorp shippers, were also hurt by the toxic part of the fandom and by some of the people she's trying to defend. Let's be clear, there's not "mayyyybe," they were 100% wrong in queerbaiting the hell out of us from day one and mocking us for believing the bait. Make no mistake, most of this is a consequence of THAT.

#supercorp #supergirl #nicole maines #text post #fandom things

156 notes · View notes

sparklingchim · 2 years ago

Text

ego season; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 6.3k

rating: 18+

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother's best friend, college!au

warnings: jungkook's a lil flirt <3, unprotected sex, shower sex, doggy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), creampie 🤭, cum play/swallowing, they like almost get caught 🫣, sum head in the locker room, disgusting kisses, CHANYEOL CAMEO!!!, nipple play, spanks, a teeny tiny mark, cursing, dirty talk, praise, spit

summary: pov: you make ur secret fuck buddy jealous.

a/n: hi hi besties enjoy i love u m going sleepies now <3

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You like the illicit.

Which is why you’re in the shower with Jeon Jungkook.

The guy who is your brother’s best friend.

Starting college and being away from your overbearing parents has its perks – the freedom it has given you has swayed you straight into Jungkook’s arms.

Turns out that despite the beginning of your little secret feeling quite mutinous and thrilling, it soon became apparent that maintaining it hidden from your brother Taehyung is substantially ridiculous when you share an apartment with said brother.

It gets even more ridiculous when you consider that they see each other every day because they play for the same hockey team.

You admit, choosing Jungkook as a fuck buddy was an inconvenient choice in which you had not considered the intricate aspects that would make sneaking around hardly possible.

But

The two of you are undeniably compatible in bed.

Luckily, you found out a few months ago at a frat party when you both were completely wasted and out of your minds.

After that night, there was no going back.

Being in college can be overwhelming at first. Lots of choices and opportunities. But it’s a vast contrast from your previous life, and you’ve fully committed to this lifestyle.

All your life you’ve longed to be in charge if your own decisions. Now that you're in college, living in a swanky apartment near campus, you have a little more freedom.

When there are no parents around to keep an eye on you, you can – almost – do whatever you want.

College is fun.

And taking a shower with Jeon Jungkook is fun too.

You giggle when Jungkook snatches your shampoo bottle from you before you can reach for it.

“Lemme do it.” He squeezes a generous amount on his open palm and rubs the fluid between his hands.

“Jungkook,” you scold. “That’s way too much.” You ogle the ample amount of shampoo coating his hands. Your lips drag into a pout as you watch Jungkook’s excessively besmeared palms extend to your hair. But it promptly fades when he begins to massage your scalp.

“But I like how it feels. Gets really foamy and bubbly.” He has a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he watches the solution grow into a rich foam of frothy bubbles on your head.

“Using too much can dry out your hair,” you mumble. Concentrating is a little difficult with Jungkook’s way too experienced fingers working on your scalp. “It can remove the moisture.”

“Oh, really?” His eyebrow twitches for the briefest second, that’s how you know Jungkook is actually listening to you because judging by his expression, he’s trapped in his own thought bubble.

It’s actually something you adore about Jungkook – whenever he is occupied doing something, whatever it is, he’ll put so much care into it and work diligently. Sweet – admirable, actually. It’s a characteristic you want to achieve as well, but you’d have to tweak on your impatience at first.

“Really,” you confirm.

“And I thought you were just saying that because your shampoo is expensive.” He teases you with a bob of his covered finger on your nose.

“That too.”

You reach behind Jungkook to grab your brother’s weird three in one shampoo. You squirt some on your hand and put it back. On your tippy toes you start to shampoo his hair as well.

He has his mouth twisted in a cocky smirk when he says, “The way you opened the door for me earlier seemed a little...” Jungkook cocks his head and ponders for a fitting word.

When he doesn’t come up with one you suggest, “Desperate?”

“Hmm.” Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he’s in thoughts. “I wanted so say rushed, but sure. Desperate will do.”

Your eyes roll in playfulness. “You were dripping with sweat, Jungkook. Didn’t want any of it dirtying my apartment floor,” you reason.

You texted Jungkook a good morning message and good luck on today’s game. He instantly replied with a thank you and told you that he had just finished his morning jog through the campus park. And maybe you offered him to stop by at your place because conveniently you also wanted to take a shower... (You hate morning showers). Taehyung had left a couple minutes prior to visit the gym.

“That’s the only reason?” A challenging twinkle flashes across his eyes.

The tip of your tongue touches your upper lip as you try to hide your smile. “Wouldn’t know why else.”

Jungkook nods. He grabs the shower head and tips your head back by grabbing your cheek. Carefully, he washes the shampoo out of your hair.

Jungkook is cautious not to accidentally splash water on your face and gently runs his fingers through your wet hair to remove the excess shampoo. You taught him well.

When he’s done, he offers you the shower head and it’s your turn.

Standing on your toes while trying to wash the shampoo out of his hair is always a little battle.

Usually, Jungkook comes to meet you by lowering himself, but at the moment his mind wanders elsewhere.

You first feel his hand on the curve of your waist. It’s a soft grasp. A gentle squeeze of your flesh that transiently side-tracks you from your task.

“Jungkook.” You try to pull him out of his little bubbles he’s trapped in. There’s a thickness to your voice, undoubtedly from his wandering hand on your body.

“Mmmh?’ He doesn’t look you in the eyes. Solely fixed on your body as his fingers mould against the supple form of your tit. You’ve always reckoned him to be a tits man, but he denies it and says he loves your ass equally as much. Liar.

“Bend down a little so I can rinse off the shampoo,” you request. His lashes flutter as he averts his eyes to you. A tiny crease appears between his brows like he has actually forgotten where he is and what you two have been doing. “Believe me, you really don’t want remnants of shampoo lingering in your hair.” You cock your head, fruitlessly waiting for a reaction from his head empty and hands full with tits haze.

Suddenly, Jungkook does bend forward. But not in favour of you, but to satisfy his own selfish desire to suck on your boob.

“Oh!” you squeal, pressing the shower head against his back. “Jungkook,” you chide, but your voice turns into a soft whine at the end.

“Hmm?” His hum together with your nub between his lips twists something in your tummy. His tongue begins to swirl around it, and you have to force your eyes to stay open. Jungkook’s inked hand reaches down your lower back. His subtle touches leave a trail of shivers, until his pads brush over the slope of your ass. He squeezes your cheek, firm fingers digging into your skin.

A small gasp escapes your throat.

With a lewd pop he releases your nipple. A lopsided smirk appears on his face, conjuring the little dimple on his cheek.

Jungkook’s dimple. So banal but so endearing. It’s a pretty contribution to the soft contours of Jungkook’s features – except for the sharp outline of his jaw. That adds to his image of the college jock. You like to tease him with that name, and he loathes it, but the sex afterwards is always so good.

You feel his other hand sneak down, grabbing a handful of your ass. He closes the distance between you again, pressing languid kisses along your neck. Begrudgingly, your eyes fall closed.

“Is this what you wanted?” A whisper of his mellow voice coaxes your breath to stutter.

“Yeah.” It’s merely a murmur. The tender nudges against your skin with his mouth unfold spellbound clouds in your mind, looming over your rational thoughts. “But the...” The shampoo you want to remind him, but he starts to suck on your skin and no more comprehensible thoughts form in your head.

You raise the shower head to Jungkook’s hair and wash off the remaining bits of shampoo. You make sure not to let the water run down his face.

“But what?” he asks, planting a soft peck on the flesh below your collar bone where his teeth have just sunk in. You’re not trying to act like a brat – you just care for his hair.

“Nothing,” you utter between pouting lips. “But no marks,” you alert.

“Just a tiny one.” Jungkook kisses the spot again. “No one will see,” he persuades.

Presuming you won’t wear clothes with a deep cleavage. Jungkook just made sure you won’t.

You put the shower head back on its place on the wall beside you. You struggle to secure it in the holder when you feel Jungkook’s hand move from your ass to your tummy.

Usually, you’d coax him into allowing you to put conditioner in his hair, but you can only concentrate on his hand slowly trailing down your belly button. When he cups your pussy, your hands clasp his shoulders.

A tantalising grin pulls the corner of his lips up. “You want this?”

You nod, your teeth capturing your bottom lip.

“Use your big girl words.” Jungkook runs his pad over your folds, eliciting a shudder from you. “Talk to me.”

“Want you,” you plead. Your eyebrows knit the further Jungkook dips his middle finger in. “Been wanting this for so long.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Last night wasn’t enough?”

The mention of last night shoots arousal and need straight to your core. An exchange of innocent text messages led to a phone call containing dirty words and hushed moans.

“No.” You shake your head. “I need you feel you.”

A chuckle bubbles in his throat. “That’s my girl.”

He spreads your wetness with his finger. Your hand wanders down to Jungkook’s tatted arm, squeezing his biceps when he brushes past your clit. His finger dwells there, putting pressure on your swollen bud. Your hips impulsively start to rock, a shaky whimper rolls past your mouth.

“Always so needy.” He draws his hand back. A petulant whine from you echoes in the bathroom.

“Shh,” Jungkook hushes you. Glimmers of tease spark in his eyes. “Bend over for me, love.”

With a puff, you turn around, bend forward and catch yourself on the tiled wall. It’s cold on your palms, but you’ll endure this if it means that Jungkook will make you cum.

He hisses behind you. “So fucking pretty.” A hand travels over your ass to your spine and back. “The prettiest girl,” he rasps. You earn a smack on your cheek, the pain leaving your walls clenching around nothing.

You turn your head, catching him just as he aims a trickle of spit at your pussy. He rubs it over your folds. His inked fingers vanish between your thighs.

“Oh fuck,” you moan as his index finger slowly enters you. He reaches deep, curling his finger to graze your spot. “More.” He’s teasing you, rubbing over your sensitive area in slow strokes.

“What do we say?” he taunts, specks of mock painting his voice.

“Please,” you reply. “I need more, please.” You’re putty in his hands. The desire to be touched bigger than your general wayward behaviour.

“Good girl.” Jungkook adds another finger. It’s just two, but you feel so full. So good.

While his fingers pick up on the speed, you feel Jungkook’s kisses on your ass. He has you rolling your eyes at the way his pads curl against your sweet spot, the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening.

Jungkook bites down on your flesh, drawing a squeal out of you. Your head twists to him again. He’s on his knees, his cheek resting against the curve of your ass as he captivatingly watches his fingers move in and out of you. A faint smirk hangs on his lips.

He meets your half-lidded eyes. His smirk deepens. “Can take a third one?”

You know you can – he knows it too – but you’d rather have his cock inside you.

“I wan’ you.” It’s a sulky request, but Jungkook’s eyes soften.

“You think you’re ready for me?” He pushes his fingers deep, remaining there for a while. Your knees buckle.

“Yes,” you pant. “I’m always ready for you.”

Jungkook hums. Your eyes focus back on the white tiles, expecting Jungkook to move behind you to bury himself inside you. With a pounding heart you wait. A gasp springs from your chest when

Jungkook’s tongue is on your pussy. He retreats his fingers from your quivering hole, using both his palms to spread your cheeks open. His tongue dives between your folds, inciting breathless whimpers from you.

“Taste so good.” Jungkook muffles indistinctly between licks on your wetness.

The sloppy sounds of his tongue lapping on your pussy fill your ears. Your throat constricts, the pleasure sends you spiralling, not permitting you make another noise.

One hand smooths over your back. You arch your back for him and Jungkook voices an approving hum against your core. Tingles sprawl everywhere, eyes falling shut as Jungkook swirls his tongue over your clit. He sucks on your tiny nub, and your thighs shake in response.

His thumb gathers your juice mixed with his spit and begins to circle your other hole.

“Jungkook,” you mewl. Your voice is small, barely having the vigour to drown out the noise of running water and Jungkook’s wicked mouth.

“Mhmm? What is it, princess?” His playful baritone timbre rumbles through your body, sparking the tight knot in your belly. The pad of his thumb continues to sweep over it, jolts of arousal teeter in your veins. He pecks your ass. “Want more?”

“Yes – please,” you answer hurriedly, voice laced with an equal amount of desperation and lust. It’s still early in the morning but Jungkook has you begging for his cock with no effort.

Jungkook straightens up to his full height. He squeezes your waist, his other hand pumping his thick cock. He rubs the glistening precum on his tip over his length. His eyes are glued to your inviting pussy, the urge to fill you to the brim fogs his mind, but he controls himself. He’ll get you used to his size before fucking you silly. The filthy thought of having you cum around his dick lures a restrained groan out of him.

Last night, when he heard your hushed whines and little whispers of his name, Jungkook was thirsting to come over and have his way with you. It had him lusting over you even after the phone call ended.

Jungkook taps his tip against your aching pussy. The wet sounds it elicits makes his front teeth dig into his lower lip. So wet. Just for him.

His head nudges your entrance. You inhale sharply, zealously anticipating the feeling of his cock sheathed deep inside you. Jungkook pushes his cock inside you. A mutual moan reverberates in the bathroom.

“Fuck.” Your eyes are tightly closed.

“It’s just the tip,” Jungkook mutters, fingers trailing up your spine.

“So big,” you babble.

“You can take it.” Jungkook’s hand finds your tit, firmly palming the smooth flesh. “You’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, right?”

The pet name makes your heart flutter. “I can take it,” you promise.

Gradually, Jungkook eases his cock inside you. He’s so deep. Your head hangs low. You’re so full.

There’s an inkling of burning pain from Jungkook’s size, but he allows you to adjust to him. His fingers tugging at your nipple steals your attention. A whine flies past your lips at his ministrations on your pebbled nipple.

“You can move,” you tell him once the pain dulls.

A delicate kiss is pressed on your shoulder blade before Jungkook draws back. His hands are firmly anchored in your hips. Jungkook pulls back until only the head of his cock is left between your walls. In a fluid motion, he bottoms out.

“Damn, you feel so fucking amazing,” he grunts, a harshness surrounds his tone. Jungkook loses himself. He finds his rhythm and thrusts inside your pussy with sharp motions.

You’re a mess beneath him. A moan of his name flees your throat. He smacks your ass and the sting rattles through you, tiny sparks fuelling the fire inside you.

“Faster,” you utter between pants. “Faster, Jungkook.” He picks up on his speed, hitting the sweet spot inside you in hastier succession. “Please don’t stop.” You sneak a hand between your legs. You press your index finger to your clit, stroking in swift circles.

Jungkook gathers your hair in one hand, twisting it around his fist. Your head lifts, back arching.

“You’re gonna cum for me?”

You’re barely able to register Jungkook’s question. Your high is inbound, threatening to spill over. “Y-yes.” It’s a broken cry, Jungkook’s rapid lunges of his hips make it practically impossible to talk.

“Please make me cum.”

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?” Mock sympathy laces his voice. His makeshift ponytail tugs you back. Your hands are merely touching the wall for support, but Jungkook has a secure hold on you.

You reply with an impatient whine.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Jungkook muses. His grip on your waist tenses, delivering a particularly hard thrust. You curse at the way his cock kisses the deepest part inside you. “I think you deserve to cum.”

Oh God.

His hand with your hair bundled in his palm pulls you back to him. You reluctantly let your hands slip from the tiled wall.

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook assures. He snakes both his arms around you, keeping you safe. He gently nudges your hand between your thighs. You comply, allowing Jungkook to replace your fingers. “I’m gonna make you cum.” His voice promises into your ear. A shiver crawls up your spine. His possessive ass likes to receive credit for everything.

Jungkook’s middle finger rubs over your clit in circular motions. Your head tips back, completely engulfed in Jungkook’s enchanting touches on your body.

“So close.” Your head falls back against his shoulder. Your sweet moans fill his ear.

“Pretty girl.” Jungkook’s nose nuzzles your cheek. “Cum for me.” His other hand rests against your lower tummy. His palm puts pressure on that spot. Your eyes roll in utter euphoria.

When the taut coil snaps inside you, a fuzzy feeling rushes through your entire body. It makes your body tingle with bliss. The feeling is overwhelming your senses, your eyes can’t stay focused. You moan weakly, legs shaking.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. His words send warms chills on your skin.

His finger on your clit slows down. Jungkook lets you ride out your high, his thrusts deep and lazy.

When you peek a glance at him, you see him with brows knitted in pleasure. His dark hair is wet, long hair a mess on his head that you can’t wait to comb later. Jungkook’s sturdy body glistens with water and sweat, his shredded chest momentarily steals your attention until your eyes get distracted by the shimmering tattoos adorning his entire right arm, from hand to shoulder.

His colourful tattoos complete the look and add something irresistible to him, ridiculously charming – an impeccable portrayal of a ravishing man you should keep your distance from, but what can you say, your connection is like a magnet pulling you to him. You had kept your distance from him – even back when you two were still in high school and he was a grade above you – but once a taste of what it’s like to be with Jungkook and you became, mutually, addicted.

And as long as your brother doesn’t get a whiff of it – everything's fine.

“Wanna cum inside,” Jungkook breathes. His hand grips your ass tightly. “Can I cum inside?”

You rarely allow him to cum inside, but the way a desperate, whiny pitch accompanied by little puffs and moans colour his voice lets you decide otherwise.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Cum inside me, fill me up, Jungkook.”

“Oh, fuck.” His fingers sink into your waist. Jungkook fucks you relentlessly. “Gonna fill your pussy.”

With a guttural moan he pounds deep inside you, painting your walls white. Sloppy thrusts follow as he spills everything inside you, breathless noises hanging in the air.

Jungkook’s gingerly pulls his cock out, lightly tapping it against your pussy coated in your mixed juices.

“Bend over.”

Your hands are flat against the wall again, arching your back for Jungkook.

“Shit.” His palms smooth over the expanse of your ass. “Your tiny pussy looks so good filled up with my cum.”

You giggle. You feel his digits gently trace over your folds. He dips his finger in your cum filled hole.

“Up,” he instructs.

When you stand in front of him again, he holds his finger coated with his cum in front of your face.

On instinct, you open your mouth for him.

You close your lips around the pad of his tatted finger. Your tongue swirls around it, the taste of his cum spreading in your mouth.

Jungkook wears a fond smile on his face. He removes his finger when you swallow. “Good girl.”

Suddenly, someone yells your name from outside the bathroom.

You shriek.

“Relax, it’s just me.” Taehyung.

What the hell is he doing here so early?

You take a step back from Jungkook. “What do you want?” you yell.

“I think I left my AirPods here.”

Your eyebrows draw together in annoyance. “You came all the way back for that?”

Taehyung ignores your accusatory tone. “Can I come in? They gotta be here.”

You send a worried glance at Jungkook. But he just nods, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.

The shower curtain is opaque. If Jungkook stays silent he won’t notice anything.

Jungkook pushes the shower curtain aside, pointing at the pile of clothes. Your pyjamas mixed with his jogging attire. Shit.

“Hold on a second,” you tell Taehyung, trying not to sound too panicked.

“I won’t look, _ _ _.” Taehyung’s voice drips in impatience.

“Just wait.”

You hurry to bend down, careful not to slip, and pick up Jungkook’s clothes from the floor. Jungkook hands linger on your hips to keep you safe. As you draw back, he pulls back the shower curtain and covers you both in the tiny shower.

“You can come in now.”

You hear him push down the doorknob. The door creaks a little as Taehyung enters the bathroom.

“It’s like a fucking sauna in here,” Taehyung comments.

The water is steaming hot – your choice, not Jungkook’s.

Your heart runs lapses in your chest. Your hand reaches for Jungkook’s arm, tightly holding onto him.

“Don’t forget that mum and dad are coming over this weekend.”

You mentally groan at his reminder.

Your first semester has just barely started a few months ago, but your parents can’t wait to check up on you.

“I know,” you reply.

“I think they wanna have dinner with Minho and his parents.”

Now you can’t suppress your piqued groan. Your forehead hits Jungkook’s biceps.

Taehyung chuckles. “You’re gonna pretend to be sick?”

“Mum will know.”

“Is me breaking his nose for you better?” You hear the smile on his face, but if you said yes, he’d totally do it.

You laugh. “Leave him alone. I don’t even know who he is.”

“Found them!” Taehyung calls. “Gonna leave now. Love ya!” You hear his steps leading him outside the bathroom. The door shuts close.

Jungkook and you remain silent until you’re sure that Taehyung left the apartment.

You heave a relieved sigh.

“That was close,” you mutter against his skin. Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

“So who’s Minho?” Jungkook briefly moves his arm to nudge your head.

“Just a guy who studies here as well.” You prop your chin up on his arm, looking up at him. “My parents are friends with his. They want me to meet him.”

Jungkook nods pensively. His palms slide down your back.

“Jungkook,” you warn when you feel him give your ass a squeeze.

“What? Lemme play with you a little more.”

“But it’s time for conditioner.” He grabs your hand mid-air, before you can fetch the conditioner.

He intertwines your fingers. “Just a little more.” Jungkook nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.

Your eyes flutter close.

Your arms loop around his shoulders. A shaky breath springs from your chest when you feel Jungkook’s fingers between your legs.

“Gonna make you feel good. I promise.”

Jungkook is insatiable and you’re willing to give him every part of you.

The perfect match.

Hours later, you sit in class.

The lecture is almost done. You find yourself habitually scribbling doodles on your iPad, next to your notes.

You keep thinking back on the incident this morning and how Jungkook and you could’ve gotten caught. Maybe there shouldn’t be any visits from him at your place anymore – it's way too hazardous.

You don’t want Taehyung to find out. But you also don’t want to lie to him if you continue tackle this matter imprudently.

Your phone vibrates with a new message. You tilt the screen to your view. An immediate smile unfurls as you read Jungkook’s name.

Jungkook

hey

just wanted to make sure that you’re coming to the game later?

You

i am !! i'm excited

Jungkook

i’ll make sure to win for you

You

hihi

Jungkook

watchu up to rn

You

i’m in class

i’m bored

i don’t have friends

and i'm hungry

Jungkook

poor girl

you wanna come a lil earlier to the game?

You

why?

Jungkook

just so I can see you before the game starts

You

you’ll find me in the bleachers

like you always do

Jungkook

my eyes detect the pretty real fast ;)

You

🙄

Jungkook

so you don’t wanna give me luck before the game :(

You

how early are we talking about?

i still have classes

Jungkook

i dont know

enough time to give me sum good luck

You

what kind of giving luck are we talking about

🤨

Jungkook

you know

just

a little good luck kiss

You

good luck kiss?

you're annoying

Jungkook

i miss your lips

You

you’re sure no one will be there?

Jungkook

if you come early enough

You

i’ll come

just briefly

Jungkook

see ya princess

You’re gonna skip class to give Jeon Jungkook head.

The woman you are.

Jungkook slips you in the empty locker room without anyone noticing.

You both have mastered the ability to sneak into places unobserved, it seems.

“Just wanna stress that I skipped a class for you.” An accusing tone resonates in your voice as you turn to him, a finger poking his chest.

A bewitching smile swirls on Jungkook’s mouth. “Well, I’m happy that when you do, on a rare occasion, it’s to spend time with me.” He catches your finger easily, wrapping his hand around your wrist smoothly. Jungkook steps closer.

You can’t deny the giddy bubbles in your tummy whenever Jungkook flirts with you. It’s a prompt reaction – almost natural.

“You want your good luck kiss now?” The way he is staring down at you makes you feel a little jittery, but you keep his intense gaze, bashing your eyelashes up at him.

He traces a line with his knuckle along your jawline. “Whatever,” he answers. “Just the time I spend with you will bring me enough luck.”

A frustrated pout adorns your face. “I skipped class for this?”

“You don’t like spending time with me?” Jungkook’s brow quirks, a small playful smile curving his lips.

“No,” you deny vehemently. “I do like it. I just thought we were gonna do a little more than that.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I think you want it even more than me.”

Heat crawls into your cheeks. “So what?” You try to hide your growing shyness. “You were the one begging me to come here.”

“That’s right.” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, just the hint of a touch. “ ’Cause you always make me feel so good, princess.”

Shivers, everywhere. Jungkook leans down. He wants to tease you, you know it, but you stand on your tip toes and close the distance. You catch his mouth in a fierce kiss, fingers going straight into his hair, dishevelling the mess of his curls.

He walks backwards, pulling you along him until his calves hit the locker room bench and he slowly sits down. With his hands gripping your waist, he tugs you onto his lap.

“How much time do we have?” you whisper against his neck when he presses kisses down your throat.

“Don’t worry about it.” His lips move to your earlobe and he sinks his teeth into your soft skin.

“Jungkook.” You wanted to sound solemn, but it falls from you like a moan when his hands squeeze your ass. “I don’t want anyone finding us like this.”

“Then lets hurry.”

You shoot him a wide-eyed glance. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook ignores you and pulls you in for another kiss.

You are used to this, though. Spending your time with Jungkook like this always meant hurried touches and second look glances at the surroundings.

Your hips grind on his lap. Jungkook curses, his forehead falling onto your chest.

“I love this place,” he murmurs, palming your boobs through your tight sweater top. You giggle.

The bulge in his pants is pressing against you. Your hand clasps around it, squeezing a little. Jungkook groans at the feeling of your hand.

“I need you on your knees. Right now,” he commands in a rasp.

With a mischievous smile you sink down to your knees. Your trapped between his thighs. Jungkook quickly gets rid of his pants and briefs, pushing them down to his knees.

Jungkook’s cock lies against his abdomen. It’s pretty and salivating, his veiny length coloured in an angry red.

He strokes his cock, his thumb swiping across his glistening tip. “Open wide for me.” You feel his hand on the base of your neck. You obey nimbly, tilting your head upwards and sticking out your tongue.

Jungkook taps his cock against your tongue. The wet sound it produces sinking straight into your core. When he pushes his dick inside your mouth, you swirl your tongue around him. A string of curses follow the warm feeling of your mouth.

His cock is heavy between your lips. It reminds you of how his sheer size stretches your pussy when he fucks you, his mushroom tip rubbing against your sensitive spot and making you roll your eyes at the intensity. Your nails leave crescent marks in Jungkook’s thighs when you take him deeper.

“Just like that.” His voice gains something sharp and piercing.

You’re breathless when you pull off. You hold his length to your mouth; a dribble of spit runs down from his tip.

Jungkook moans at the sight of you spitting on his cock. He wants to shut his eyes and let your sinful mouth overtake every sensible part of him, but he can’t draw his eyes from you – his cock between your plump lips, your sparkly eyes looking up at him, a little teary because his size is still a little too much for you. Angelic.

Jungkook wants to blow his load right then and there.

Your head bobs up and down, palm stroking the part you can’t reach. The air is filled with wet, slurping sounds alongside Jungkook’s scratchy groans. You lap at the underside of Jungkook’s cock, tongue rolling around his head when you reach it, a kitten lick at his slit to add your teasing.

His dick twitches in your grasp. “Fuck.” He gathers loose strands in his palm. His hand lingers on the back of your head with your hair in a bundle to support you.

He urges you forward and your mouth closes around him again. Jungkook pressures you to take his cock deeper and you take his length further until your nose pokes his crotch. With shimmering eyes, you blink repetitively, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

“God, you look so fucking pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth.” Jungkook hisses, keeping you down there. You swallow and his cock twitches again, the curse that flees his chest is low and it does something to your pussy.

He pulls you off his cock, just to push you down again. You gag, eyes tightly closed as Jungkook has his way with you.

“Love to hear you gag for me.” A deep crease appears between his eyebrows. “So good at taking my cock. Gonna make me fucking cum.”

Jungkook’s muscular thighs shake beneath your palms. His hips move desirously upwards, full length sheathed in your throat.

“Gonna cum – fuck ‘m gonna cum. You’re gonna swallow like the good girl you are?”

Jungkook’s cum shoots inside you. His hand in your hair goes limp. You suck on his tip, lazily stroking his dick to pump everything out while he’s breathing heavily above you. He hisses when your gentle touches are too much from him, pulling his cock from your mouth.

“Swallowed everything?” His voice is low, a little drowsy from his high. His fingers smooth over your hair to tame the mess he has created.

“Uh-huh.” A smile is on your face. You give his spent cock a peck before you rise.

Jungkook pulls his clothes back on. You walk to your bag discarded on the floor to search for tissues.

“There’s no way we’re losing the game today,” Jungkook says, smirking.

While you somewhat clean your hands you say, “Don’t jinx it.” When you’re done, you grab your phone.

“I’m not. We’re winning this.”

You stand in front of him. “Can you hold this?” You hand him your phone with the camera app opened, the screen showing you. Your fingers fold around his wrist to get the perfect angle of your face and you start fixing the mess of mascara Jungkook was the cause of.

“You don’t believe in me?”

“No, I do.” Impishness sways in your tone.

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Princess, you should know me better than that.” He cocks his head, eyes intently watching you. “If we win, I’ll have my way with you tonight. If we don’t, you’re in charge.”

A tiny giggle escapes you at his proposal.

“Sure.”

You’re in for a ride.

Watching a hockey game of your brother has always been fun.

Not particularly because you are a fan of the game, but because you like to see Taehyung beam in his love and passion for it. You’ve always been a big supporter of his.

What made the games a tiny speck more enjoyable for you was his hot best friend playing with him.

You can’t keep your eyes off Jungkook. You keep searching for him, observing every move and play.

Sometimes you have to force yourself to pry your eyes away and see what your brother is doing.

It’s hard to force your attention away from Jungkook, but it’s even tougher to feign nonchalance because you attended the game with Chanyeol – a friend from class, but you two initially became friends at a frat party.

He usually tags along with you, together with your friend Naeun but she couldn’t accompany you today – too swamped with work.

“Taehyung’s really amazing.”

Chanyeol’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your eyes fly from Jungkook to Taehyung, your throat constricts like you’ve been caught in a criminal act.

“I know,” you say, a little awkward. “He’s always been this good.”

It’s half-time. The fifteen-minute break has just started. The bleachers are crowded, though some are leaving to use the small break.

Suddenly, the huge screens show close ups of the viewers.

The kiss cam.

The couple shown on the screen starts kissing and the entire audience cheers.

You’ve never been on the kiss cam. There are too many people in the audience anyway, the chances to appear on it are low.

Unbothered, you turn to Chanyeol.

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday?” he asks.

“My parents are coming over this weekend.” You sigh at the thought of it. “I doubt I’ll be able to go out.”

“Yikes.”

Your phone vibrates. You unlock it to find a new message from Naeun. You’re occupied with texting Naeun when Chanyeol faintly nudges his knees to yours.

“I’m sorry, I-” When you look up, you see yourself on the big screen. “Oh!” you squeal surprised.

Chanyeol laughs beside you. A rush of excitement and nervousness courses through your system.

Chanyeol’s eyebrows raise in question.

Should you? Chanyeol doesn’t have a girlfriend, you don’t have a boyfriend. There’s nothing to lose, really. Exhilaration is clouding your judgement.

Slowly, a timid smile curves your lips upwards.

You lean in closer. Chanyeol takes the hint and cups your cheek. When his lips touches yours, your tummy tingles. You share a heated kiss, your body leaning in closer as you get lost in it for a brief second.

The applaud and cheers are blocked by your ears. You only focus is Chanyeol.

The moment doesn’t last long. When you both break the kiss, you smile at each other, giggles surrounding you.

The kiss cam isn’t focused on you anymore, another couple on the screen.

“You’re a good kisser,” Chanyeol compliments teasingly.

“That was fun,” you reply, the thrill of it all making you feel light in the head.

When you cast your glance to the field, it slowly subsides.

Taehyung is looking at you with a sharp look. You know your brother too well. His expression translates to are you fucking serious?

Yes, you want to answer. Lemme have fun for once.

Your eyes roll unintendedly when you avert your gaze from Taehyung. But somehow, they instantly land on Jungkook.

Your chest flutters, even from a distance his effect on you is intense.

The look he gives you is blistering, straight into your soul.

No matter how this is will end, Jungkook is gonna have his way with you either way.

Oh, now you are definitely in for a ride.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

read pt 2 here <3

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook college au #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

7K notes · View notes

oldsoul007 · 2 months ago

Text

dancing with the stars

nicholas chavez x pro-dancer!reader

summary: nick goes on dwts

Nicholas, a talented but introverted actor, decides to take a bold step and join the cast of Dancing with the Stars. His professional dance partner, y/b, is not only skilled but also incredibly charismatic and outgoing. From the start, y/n realizes that getting Nicholas out of his comfort zone will be a challenge, but she's up for it.

During our first rehearsals, Nicholas is hesitant and reserved, unsure of how to express himself through dance. With my patience and encouragement, I slowly help him open up. I introduces fun exercises and games to make him feel more at ease, and gradually, Nicholas starts to enjoy the process. We spend long hours practicing, and with each passing day, Nicholas becomes more confident and expressive.

As the season progresses, their bond deepens. Nicholas finds himself looking forward to their time together, not just for the dancing but for the genuine connection he feels with y/n. Her support and belief in him make a significant impact. Towards the end of the season, during a particularly heartfelt dance, Nicholas realizes that his feelings for y/n have grown beyond friendship. He's falling for her, and the realization fills him with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The journey on the show has not only transformed him as a dancer but also brought him closer to someone who means the world to him.

In one of our practices, Nicholas and I decided to take a break from their usual intense routines and just enjoy the dance. The studio was filled with upbeat music, and the atmosphere was light and playful.

Nicholas started by attempting a goofy dance move, making me burst into laughter. "What was that?" I giggled, trying to mimic his awkward steps. "Hey, I'm just warming up!" Nicholas replied, grinning. We both knew that sometimes, letting loose was the best way to connect and improve our chemistry on the dance floor.

We spent the next hour experimenting with different styles, from silly hip-hop moves to exaggerated ballroom steps. At one point, Nicholas tried to dip me but ended up almost falling over, causing both of us to collapse into a fit of laughter. "Okay, maybe we should stick to what we know," I said, still chuckling.

As the practice went on, we found themselves naturally falling into a rhythm, blending our playful energy with genuine skill. By the end, we had created a spontaneous, fun routine that was uniquely ours. "That was awesome," Nicholas said, giving me a high-five. "We should definitely incorporate some of this into our next performance."

I nodded, my eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely. I think we just found our secret ingredient." We left the studio that day feeling closer than ever, our bond strengthened by the joy and laughter we shared.

In the dimly lit rehearsal studio, the music starts, and Nicholas and I begin their routine. The dance is a passionate tango, filled with sharp movements and intense eye contact. From the very first step, there's a palpable energy between us.

My hand rests on Nicholas's shoulder, guiding him through the intricate steps. "Focus on me," I whispers, my voice steady yet filled with an underlying intensity. Nicholas nods, his eyes locked onto mine. With each turn and pivot, our bodies move in perfect sync, the chemistry between us undeniable.

As the music crescendos, the dance becomes more heated. Nicholas surprises me with his newfound confidence, pulling me closer with each step. Our faces are inches apart, and the air between us feels electric. The tension builds, and for a moment, it feels like the world outside the studio fades away.

Suddenly, we stop, breathless and staring into each other's eyes. The room is silent except for our heavy breathing.

Nicholas can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he knows that this moment is about more than just the dance. It's about the connection they've built, the emotions they've shared, and the undeniable spark that's grown between them.

The lights dimmed in the studio as the announcer introduced Nicholas and me for our performance. The audience fell silent, anticipation hanging in the air. The music began, a slow and haunting melody, setting the stage for our contemporary dance routine.

Nicholas and me stepped onto the floor, our movements fluid and synchronized. From the first lift, it was clear that this dance was something special. Nicholas, usually reserved, moved with a newfound grace and intensity, his eyes never leaving me. I reciprocated, my expressions conveying a depth of emotion that captivated everyone watching.

As the dance progressed, our connection became more evident. Each step, each turn, was executed with precision but also with a raw, unspoken emotion. The choreography told a story of love and longing, and the chemistry between Nicholas and I brought it to life. The audience could feel the intensity, the passion, and the vulnerability in every movement.

Towards the end of the routine, Nicholas lifted me effortlessly, holding me high above his head as the music swelled. The moment was breathtaking, a perfect culmination of their journey together on the show. As the final note played, we ended in a close embrace, our foreheads touching, both breathless and emotional.

The studio erupted in applause, the judges on their feet. Nicholas and we stood there, still holding each other, knowing that this dance was more than just a performance. It was a testament to our hard work, our growing bond, and the feelings that had blossomed between us.

During the wrap up of the show for the week, Nicholas turned to me, his eyes serious. "Y/n, I need to tell you something," he began, his voice soft but steady. "I think... no, I know that I've started to fall for you. It's more than just the dance for me."

I looked at him, my expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. I took a deep breath before responding, "Nicholas, I think what you're feeling might be because of the intensity of our dances. The emotions, the connection – they can sometimes blur the lines between reality and performance."

Nicholas shook his head, taking my hands in his. "No, y/n, it's not just the dance. It's the way you laugh, the way you care about everyone around you, the way you make me feel like I can be myself. It's everything about you."

My heart raced, but I tried to stay grounded. "Nicholas, we've spent so much time together, it's natural to feel close. But we need to be sure that what we're feeling is real and not just a product of our routines."

He nodded, understanding my caution. "I get that, and I don't want to rush anything. But I needed you to know how I feel. Maybe we can take it slow, see where this goes outside of the studio?"

I smiled softly, appreciating his honesty. "Okay, let's take it one step at a time. We'll figure this out together."

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholaschavezimagines #dancing with the stars

103 notes · View notes

centaurianthropology · 2 months ago

Text

Victor Frankenstein (1957): The Could-Have-Been Tumblr Sexyman

Tonight I watched 'The Curse of Frankenstein', the first of the Hammer Horror Frankenstein series, and all I could think was that if this film had come out more recently than the late 1950s, Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) would have been the absolute lust object of the best and most unhinged Tumblr-goers.

Look at this man. He is elegant, he has a thousand great Victorian-era outfits. He has cheekbones for days and pretty blue eyes. He's tall and thin as a rail. He exudes a palpable aura of superiority and bitchiness at all times.

GIF Credit: @doctor-frankenstoned

GIF credit: @docandbat

GIF credit: @theolikeworld

But all this gentlemanliness is a facade, barely covering the feral wet-possum-man hidden underneath. He's twitchy, he's weird. He has absolutely crazy blue eyes. He's obsessed with SCIENCE.

GIF credit: @petercushings

GIF credit: @jihyo-x

He's committed unspeakable crimes! So many crimes, and is constantly one scene away from being roughed up (mostly choked, because I swear the director of this movie had a thing about Peter Cushing getting choked by Christopher Lee ... it happens a lot).

GIF credit: @theolikeworld

GIF credit: @petercushings

GIF credit: @atomic-chronoscaph

He is absolutely, undeniably a freak and a monsterfucker.

He would be cancelled a thousand times. He is the absolute worst. A terrible human being. He would be so many people's Problematic Fave(TM). He would have so many Tumblr-goers cheering on his crimes and hoping he gets worse. And he would! For multiple slutty, slutty sequels.

GIF credit: @lonelyzarquon

And he was played by a genuinely sweet actor who adored his wife, liked painting miniatures, and was very open about being best friends for life with his looming, 6'5" oft-costar (who another large chunk of Tumblr would be absolutely feral about, but that's another story for another day).

Truly one of the great losses of the passage of time (and the fact that the Hammer Horror flicks really do take a certain sort of taste to actually enjoy), is that Peter Cushing's Frankenstein doesn't get his moment as the Tumblr It Girl of some fabulously-dressed, unhinged, crime-filled, bitchy Halloween season.

#the curse of frankenstein #hammer frankenstein #victor frankenstein #peter cushing #the would-be Tumblr sexyman #Hammer Horror-a-thon

145 notes · View notes

lxndonorris · 14 hours ago

Text

games - Franco Colapinto

Y/N x Franco Colapinto Theme: Smutty, Teasing, Touching playing teasing games with Franco word count: 3520+ taglist: @game-set-canet @cloud-55 open for requests :)

The hum of the paddock was always the same. Mechanics bustled between the garages, engineers huddled over laptops, and the faint smell of burnt rubber and motor oil lingered in the air.

It was race weekend, and as a member of Williams' strategy department, your mind was consumed with tire degradation rates, fuel calculations, and weather forecasts.

This weekend was different, though; Franco Colapinto had been brought in as a replacement for the remainder of the season. It wasn't uncommon for drivers to shuffle in and out, but his arrival left you with mixed feelings.

While his talent was undeniable, his presence also underscored the volatility of the sport.

One moment you're on top; the next, you're replaced.

You tried to keep your head down and focus on your work, but Franco had other ideas.

From the moment he stepped into the Williams garage, he exuded confidence—maybe too much. His charming smile seemed to disarm everyone around him, and his jokes quickly won over the mechanics.

You wanted to be immune to it. After all, you weren't here to be dazzled by a driver; you were here to perform as best as possible.

Still, there was something about his energy that made him hard to ignore.

Friday morning was spent poring over practice session data. By the time the clock struck noon, you were desperate for a break. Slipping away from the chaos, you found a quiet corner of the hospitality area. The cool breeze and a cup of coffee were all you needed to reset your mind.

But, of course, that peace was short-lived.

"Found you," came a smooth voice from behind.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Franco had a knack for making his presence known.

"What do you want, Colapinto?" You asked, keeping your tone neutral as you sipped your coffee.

"Is that how you greet all our teammates?" He teased, sliding into the chair across from you.

He didn't wait for an invitation, naturally.

"I'm not sure we're teammates," you countered, setting your cup down. "You're here to drive; I'm here to strategize."

"Semantics," he said with a shrug. "We're both here for the same goal, aren't we?"

His casual confidence was maddening, but you refused to let it get under your skin.

"Did you need something, or are you just here to disrupt my break?"

He grinned, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better. You seem... interesting."

"Interesting?" You echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's vague."

"Charming, sharp, beautiful. Should I go on?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"Flattery doesn't work on me."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. "But if it doesn't, I'll just have to try harder."

It was infuriating how effortlessly he pushed your buttons. And yet, you couldn't deny the thrill of it.

If he wanted to play this game, you'd make sure you won.

Careful, Franco," you said, letting your fingers brush over his arm as you stood. "You don't want to bite off more than you can chew."

His breath hitched just barely—a subtle reaction, but one you didn't miss. He tilted his head, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

"I think I can handle it."

"Good luck, then," you said, walking away before he could respond.

---

The day went on, and you managed to avoid Franco for the most part. But by the time the evening rolled around, you found yourself thinking about your brief encounter.

He was charming, funny, and annoyingly attractive. And yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that getting involved with him was a bad idea. He was a temporary replacement, after all. What was the point in letting yourself get tangled up in something that might not last?

But Franco wasn't the type to give up easily.

---

Saturday morning brought more practice sessions and strategy meetings. You were buried in data when Franco strolled into the engineering office, his helmet tucked under one arm.

"You look busy," he said, leaning casually against the desk.

"I am," you replied without looking up.

"Maybe I can help," he offered, his tone playful.

"Unless you've suddenly become an expert in race strategy, I doubt it."

"I might surprise you," he said, stepping closer.

You glance up at him, your lips curving into a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure you're full of surprises."

His eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to crackle. Then, just as quickly, you returned your focus to the laptop in front of you, leaving him standing there.

But Franco wasn't one to be ignored. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

"You know, if you keep teasing me like this, I might start to think you enjoy it."

You turned to face him, your faces inches apart.

"And if I do?"

His grin widened. "Then I'd say we're going to have a lot of fun."

With that, he straightened up and walked away, leaving you to wonder what exactly you'd gotten yourself into.

---

A few hours later, the buzz of post-qualifying energy filled the air as team members analyzed data and discussed strategies for the race.

The car had shown steady performance, and Franco had managed to secure P13—a good result considering the car's limitations this season and his inexperience with it all.

You sat in the corner of the engineering office, reviewing telemetry and tire degradation patterns when the door swung open, revealing Franco. His white racing suit clung to him, the logos proudly displayed on his chest. His hair was damp, slightly tousled from the helmet, and a faint sheen of sweat made him look effortlessly rugged.

"P13," he announced with a grin, his voice bright as he strode into the room. "Not bad for the new guy, huh?"

You glance up from your screen and nodded.

"Not bad at all. You might even be worth keeping around."

His grin widened as he leaned against the desk beside you.

"High praise coming from you. I was beginning to think I'd never win you over."

"You still haven't," you said, letting your lips curve into a smirk. "But you're off to a decent start."

He chuckled, his dark eyes locked on yours.

"I'll take that as a challenge."

As the room cleared out, people heading off to dinner or more meetings, Franco lingered. His teasing continued, lighthearted at first, but his words grew bolder with each exchange.

"You know," he said, his voice low, "I think you like having me around more than you let on."

"And why would you think that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you're still here talking to me instead of running off like everyone else," he said, his tone smug. "Admit it—you’re intrigued."

You leaned back in your chair, studying him.

"Intrigued? Maybe, impressed? Not quite."

His laugh was soft, and he leaned in closer, his arms crossed as he rested them on the desk.

"You're tough to crack, you know that?"

"Maybe you're just not trying hard enough," you shot back, your tone playful.

Beneath the table, an idea crossed your mind.

Without a word, you let your foot drift toward him. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged the tip of your shoe along his calf. You felt him tense ever so slightly, his smirk faltering for just a fraction of a second before returning, sharper than before.

His eyes darkened, but he played it cool.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play?" he murmured.

You didn't respond, instead letting your foot continue its slow journey up his leg, brushing over his knee and toward his thigh. His breathing quickened, though he did his best to hide it. When your foot reached just beneath the edge of his suit, you stopped, withdrawing just enough to leave him wanting more.

"You were saying?" you asked, your voice innocent.

He cleared his throat, his grin never fading.

"I think you're enjoying this even more than I am."

You tilted your head, feigning indifference.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"How about we find out?"

Your heart skipped, but you kept your composure.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Meet me later," he said, his words deliberate. "My motorhome."

For a moment, you let the suggestion hang in the air, the weight of it pressing down on both of you. Then, with a coy smile, you leaned back in your chair.

"We'll see."

He laughed softly, shaking his head as he stood. In one swift motion, he unzipped his suit just enough to grant you a glimpse of the blue fireproofs beneath.

"You're going to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

"Only if you're lucky," you replied, watching as he walked away.

As the door closed behind him, you exhaled deeply, your mind racing. You didn't want to admit it, but the thought of meeting him sent a thrill through you that was impossible to ignore.

---

An hour later, you found yourself standing outside Franco's motorhome, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. Your heart was pounding. Was this the right decision? Yet, something about him—his charm, his confidence, his maddening ability to make you second-guess everything—had drawn you here.

You knocked, the sound feeling louder than it should in the quiet paddock. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was.

Franco stood in the doorway, still in his racing gear, the upper half loosely hanging down around his waist. The tight blue Nomex undershirt clung to his chest and arms, highlighting every contour. His hair was still slightly damp, and his grin was as infuriatingly cocky as ever.

"You came," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his voice laced with amusement.

"You invited me," you replied, your tone light but guarded.

"And I didn't think you'd actually show up," he admitted, stepping aside to let you in. "Come on, make yourself comfortable."

You hesitated for only a second before stepping into the motorhome. It was cozy, the space designed for function but with enough personal touches to make it feel lived-in. A small table and couch sat to one side, a kitchenette on the other. The faint scent of something fresh—maybe soap—lingered in the air.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you turned to find Franco watching you, his arms crossed and that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not bad," you said, glancing around. "I expected it to be messier."

He chuckled, stepping closer.

"What can I say? I like to keep things in order. Well, most things."

You raised an eyebrow. "And the things you don't?"

"Those tend to be more fun," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken again.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"You're relentless, you know that?"

"And you're impossible to ignore," he countered, closing the distance between you.

The teasing back-and-forth began almost immediately. His fingers brushed against your back as he passed you, a casual touch that sent shivers down your spine.

You retaliated by letting your hand linger on his arm, tracing the toned muscle beneath the fabric. His grin only widened.

"You're not making this easy," he said, his voice low.

"Good," you replied, leaning against the small table. "I wouldn't want to."

He moved closer, his eyes searching yours as he rested his hands on either side of you, caging you in without actually touching you.

"You're going to drive me insane," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Maybe that's the point."

His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension. Slowly, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. Your heart raced, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your back again, this time more deliberate, more lingering.

You let your hand slide up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Your fingers drifted to his shoulders, then down his arms, before finally brushing over his thigh.

His breath hitched, his composure faltering ever so slightly, and you knew you had him.

But just as his lips were about to meet yours, you pulled away, stepping aside with a teasing smile.

"Not so fast," you said, your voice light and playful.

His eyes darkened, and he let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

"You're cruel, you know that?"

"Am I?" You ask innocently, though the gleam in your eyes betrayed you.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mingled with amusement.

"You're going to be the death of me."

You shrugged, moving toward the couch and sitting down, crossing one leg over the other.

"Maybe. But you'll enjoy every second of it."

Franco stood there for a moment, his hands on his hips, as if deciding whether to let you win this round. Finally, he let out a breath, his smirk returning.

"You're trouble," he said, joining you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. "And I like it."

You lean closer, your voice a whisper.

"You have no idea."

The air between you felt electric, the tension thick as you leaned in just enough to close the distance without actually touching him.

Franco stayed still, watching you with a mix of amusement and anticipation. His restraint was admirable, but you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes.

He knew you were playing with him, and yet he let you—whether it was curiosity, confidence, or sheer temptation, you couldn't tell.

You let your hands roam over his chest, your fingers trailing along the lines of his toned muscles beneath the fabric of his Nomex shirt. His breath grew shallow, his chest rising and falling in time with the slow, deliberate movements of your hands.

You lingered at his collarbone, letting your fingers drift upward to his neck, where you caressed the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the faintest hint of a stubble grazing your fingertips.

With your other hand, you let your fingers slide down to his thigh, brushing over the firm muscle just barely. The touch was light, teasing, a mere whisper of contact that made him shift slightly under your hand.

His lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just watched you, his gaze dark and intense, as if daring you to push him further.

"You're quiet," you said softly, your thumb brushing over the edge of his jaw.

"You're in control," he replied, his voice rougher than usual, a low hum that sent a thrill down your spine. "For now."

The confidence in his tone made you smirk.

You let your fingers on his thigh press down a little more, moving in slow circles that barely grazed where you knew he wanted them. He shifted again, his composure slipping just enough to make your teasing worth it.

"Franco," you murmured, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his ear. "You're enjoying this too much."

He chuckled, the sound soft but strained.

"You don't know half of it."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still exploring his jawline while your other hand continued its slow, deliberate movements on his thigh.

His eyes were locked on yours, his restraint remarkable given the circumstances.

It was a game now—one you weren't sure either of you wanted to win.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was soft but purposeful. He hesitated yet gave in, his hand moving to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, his restraint giving way to the desire he'd been holding back.

The moment felt charged, every touch, every movement heightened by the tension that had been building between you.

Your hand on his thigh moved slightly, your fingers brushing against him just enough to draw a sharp intake of breath from him.

You smiled against his lips, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted. You let your touch linger, a faint stroke that sent a shiver through him.

When you finally pull back, his eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath shallow as he looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and frustration.

"Was that what you wanted?" you asked, your voice low, teasing.

He smirked, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"It's a start."

Your fingers, still on his thigh, pressed down a little more deliberately, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the firm muscle. He tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching just barely, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, a challenge glinting in the dark depths.

"Patience," you murmured, letting your fingers drift a little higher, teasingly brushing along the edge of where he wanted them most.

His jaw tightened, and you could feel the restraint it took for him to let you lead, to let you play this game.

"You're relentless," he whispered, his voice rough and low.

"Only because it's fun," you replied, your lips curving into a mischievous smile.

You leaned in again, letting your lips hover just over his, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against yours. At the same time, you let your fingers slide up his thigh once more, giving him the faintest, gentlest squeeze.

His breath hitched again, sharper this time, and you couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped you.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice tight, his control fraying at the edges.

You didn't answer, instead letting your hand linger, your touch slow and deliberate as you felt the tension coiling in him, the way his body reacted to every subtle movement.

Your other hand moved back to his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the tight, slightly damp fabric of his shirt, before sliding upward to cup his jaw.

His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, and you took the opportunity to lean in, pressing your lips to his in another slow, lingering kiss.

This time, he didn't hold back.

His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you with a hunger that made your heart race. His other hand cupped your face, his fingers warm and steady against your skin.

But just as he was beginning to take control, you pulled back, breaking the kiss and pulling away from his touch. Your fingers trailed down his chest one last time before sliding back to his thigh, giving him one final squeeze.

You smirked as his eyes opened, dark and heavy with frustration and need.

"So much trouble. You're impossible," he said, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you replied, standing up slowly, letting your fingers linger on his thigh until the last possible moment. "But you're still letting me win."

He laughed softly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch.

At first, he exhaled and raised an arm, stroking the back of his head. The movement made his toned chest stand out even more, the fabric of his undershirt clinging to him as he stretched slightly, trying to shake off the tension you'd left behind.

"I'm letting you think you're winning."

You turned back to him, raising an eyebrow, watching him closely.

As he leaned back against the sofa, his head resting against the cushions, he let out a long, steadying breath. His hand moved almost instinctively to his chest, following the path your fingers had traced moments before.

His fingers slid over the fabric of his nomex shirt, pressing lightly against his chest as though trying to capture the sensations you'd left behind.

His other hand drifted lower, brushing over his stomach and coming to rest near the visible strain inside his suit. His bulge was unmistakable, the tension evident even through the tightly fitted material.

"Oh, is that what you're telling yourself?"

He smirked, the heat in his eyes unwavering.

"You'll see."

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening as he let his hand hover over his bulge, his fingers flexing slightly.

It was as though he was chasing the lingering heat of your touch, replaying every teasing stroke, every deliberate squeeze in his mind.

The ghost of your fingers on his thigh, the press of your hand against his jaw, the softness of your lips—all of it hung in the air between you, even though you stood up.

He exhaled sharply, his hand brushing against the strain, his body responding to the memory of the game you'd just played. A low chuckle escaped his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Next time, I'll make sure to win."

You laughed, stepping toward the door.

"Goodnight, Franco."

Goodnight," he called after you, his voice rich with amusement. As you slipped out of the motorhome and into the cool night air, you couldn't stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

This was a game you weren't sure either of you wanted to end.

#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #franco colapinto x you

62 notes · View notes

elenasalvatore94 · 2 months ago

Text

Magnetic Hearts - Franco Colapinto`s Fanfic - 1

We are all fascinated by Franco's natural charm and intensely flirty personality, right? So let's go... Chris Almeida, a passionate Brazilian journalist with a deep love for Formula 1, navigates the fast-paced world of motorsport while managing a complicated and intoxicating relationship with the rising F1 star, Franco Colapinto. From the adrenaline-fueled chaos of race weekends to the quiet moments shared in private, their chemistry is undeniable and their connection deepens with every challenge they face.

Warnings:

Explicit Sexual Content – Contains detailed and explicit sexual scenes.

Age Gap Relationship – Features a romantic relationship with a significant age difference.

Strong Language – Use of mature or explicit language throughout.

Jealousy/Possessiveness – Themes of jealousy and possessiveness in the relationship.

Alcohol Use – Depictions of drinking or being under the influence.

Public/Non-Traditional Sexual Situations – Sexual activity in less conventional or semi-public locations.

Body Image/Insecurity – Mentions of weight gain, body image issues, and self-esteem struggles.

Mental Health (Migraine) – Descriptions of intense migraine symptoms and their impact.

The Monaco sun's glistening heat filtered through the hotel suite's curtains, casting golden streaks across the floor. It was the first race weekend of the 2024 Formula 1 season, and the paddock buzzed with its usual frenzy.

For Chris, it was another day on the job. She had spent a decade carving her name as one of the best motorsport journalists in the field. Known for her sharp questions and no-nonsense attitude, she was the go-to for every serious driver looking to have their voice heard. But this weekend felt different.

Chris had turned 30 just a week ago. While some would celebrate the milestone, she felt an odd sense of displacement. She had dedicated her entire life to her career, leaving little room for anything else. Relationships had come and gone, and somewhere along the way, she had forgotten what it was like to feel excitement outside of her work.

Until today.

"Chris, you're up next with Franco Colapinto. He's finishing with Sky Sports now," her colleague nudged her from the door.

Franco Colapinto. The name had been circulating in the F1 world for months. The 21-year-old Argentinian driver had stormed through the ranks, landing a seat with Williams. He had the talent, the looks, and the kind of charisma that made him an instant media darling. But Chris wasn't easily swayed by charm or good looks. At least, that's what she told herself.

As she prepared her notes, she heard the door creak open behind her. Franco walked in, and instantly, the air in the room shifted. His presence was undeniable - tall, lean, with sun-kissed skin, his messy brown hair falling perfectly into place, and those piercing green eyes that seemed to see through everything.

"Chris!" he greeted her warmly, offering a hand as he sat across from her. His accent carried a melodic rhythm, and for a moment, she was caught off guard by how genuinely charismatic he seemed in person.

"Franco, it's great to have you here. How's your first weekend in F1 been so far?" Chris began, keeping her voice professional and her mind focused on the task at hand.

Franco smiled, leaning back in his chair, legs spread confidently. "It's been surreal, honestly. But I'm ready. I've worked for this my whole life."

Chris nodded, her pen scribbling across her notebook as they began the formalities of the interview. But something about Franco's energy felt... off. Every time she looked up to ask another question, his eyes lingered just a little too long on her face. He'd smile in a way that was more intimate than a casual interview required. It wasn't arrogant - it was... curious, almost playful.

"Do you feel any added pressure being so young in a field of more experienced drivers?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

Franco tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "No more pressure than interviewing someone as beautiful as you."

Her pen stopped mid-sentence. Chris blinked, certain she had misheard him. "Excuse me?"

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "I think you heard me."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she cursed herself for the flutter in her chest. She was a professional - this wasn't her first interview with a good-looking driver. But something about Franco made her feel... different. The confidence in his gaze, the way his tongue darted over his bottom lip after every sentence, the soft undertones of flirtation. It wasn't the usual media banter. This was something else entirely.

"I... think we should stay on track," she replied, clearing her throat, trying to push away the strange attraction that was bubbling under the surface. "Your goals for the season?"

Franco leaned back, but the grin didn't fade. "Win races. But you know, life is about more than just winning. It's about the moments in between, don't you think?"

"Moments in between?" she echoed, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Franco's eyes locked onto hers. "The little things that take your breath away. The unexpected. The things that make you feel alive."

Chris swallowed hard, her legs shifting under the table as heat rose in her chest. There was no denying it - Franco was flirting with her. Boldly. Brazenly. And worse yet, she was letting him get to her.

She forced herself to look at her notebook, her hands trembling just slightly as she tried to maintain composure. "What about your relationship with your team? How are you settling in at Williams?"

Franco chuckled, clearly enjoying the dance they were in. "Williams is great. But I think you're avoiding the real question here."

Her eyebrow arched. "And what question would that be?"

He leaned in again, his voice low and intimate. "When are we getting drinks after this?"

Chris felt her pulse quicken. She was used to drivers being cocky, but this was different. Franco wasn't just cocky; he was deliberate. Calculated. And yet, she felt herself being pulled into his orbit, her professionalism slowly unraveling under the intensity of his gaze.

"I don't mix work and pleasure," she said, though the words came out weaker than she intended.

Franco's smile grew wider. "Who said anything about mixing? I'm talking about pleasure after work."

Her breath caught in her throat. There was no mistaking it now - he was coming on to her, and the worst part? She wanted him to. "Franco, this is an interview, not a date," she managed, her voice strained as she tried to regain control of the situation.

"Yet," he murmured, the word hanging between them like a challenge.

Chris stood abruptly, trying to put some physical distance between them. "I think we're done here," she said, her voice firmer now.

But as she gathered her things and turned to leave, Franco's voice stopped her.

"You can pretend all you want, Chris. But we both know you felt it too."

She froze, her back to him, her heart pounding in her chest. For a split second, she considered turning around, meeting his gaze one more time. But she couldn't. Not now. Not like this.

Without another word, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her. But as she walked down the hotel corridor, her mind raced with the dangerous allure of Franco Colapinto.

What the hell just happened?

The rookie had flipped her world upside down in a matter of minutes. And for the first time in a long time, Chris had no idea what to do next.

So? More?

#f1 2024 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #ferrari f1 #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader

80 notes · View notes

mr-mandalorian · 2 years ago

Text

there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

nikolai lantsov x reader, arranged marriage, angst/comfort, haven’t read to books so this strictly follows season 2

she was promised to the second prince. she didn’t know it at the time, but nikolai was the one to plead his parents to accept the deal. what a scene she caused that day, her father squeezing her arm a little too tight as he presented her to the royal family. she was all polite smiles and curated answers, her beauty undeniable in her satin gown. it was a perfected act, nikolai could only watch in amusement as guards swarmed her. when he reached to greet her with a kiss on her hand, she slashed at him with a hidden blade.

from that moment on, he knew that she would always be the woman to hold his heart.

and she hated herself for harboring similar feelings. she was an only daughter, an asset her father was sure to exploit. the last thing she expected was to find a kind man by her side, one who shared the same distaste for arranged union. when nikolai was preparing for sea, he didn’t ask for her to follow him. she was free to do as she pleased, and yet she chose to go after him.

and she was proving herself to be a valuable part of the crew. direct yet diplomatic, trusted by all as she unintentionally took the place of second in command. at times when there was a difficult decision to make, she felt crowds of eyes pointed at her instead of their captain. she didn’t mean to overstep, but the prince never dimmed her light.

she watched as the first army bowed to nikolai, the ravkan wind suffocating compared to the salt water breeze. and when no one took notice of the soon to be princess, she stayed silent. she should’ve been pleased, no longer a bride but just an acquaintance of nikolai’s that happened to tag along. and yet somehow it stung, feeling restless and out of place in the spinning wheel.

so when nikolai proposed to alina and turned to her for approval, she could only offer him stunned silence. y/n was no fool, she understood the need for this calculated move. and who was she to deny him? a prince was free to do his own bidding.

“dorogoya, please say something. it’s not like you-“

“right away, my prince.” she wished for the earth to open and swallow her whole, how embarrassing as she fumbled with her pockets, looking for the piece of jewelry that was just another secret out at sea. “you’ll be needing this.”

“you- you had this with you the entire time?” nikolai couldn’t help but grin as she revealed the engagement ring. he understood the weight of it, how she was never given a choice of who got to place it on her finger. and yet, when she was free to get rid of it, she continued to keep it on her person.

“just in case i needed something to trade if you ever got captured by pirates again.” she tried to save grace, ears tinting pink.

“you wound me, moya lyubov. you know i’m too good to let it happen again.”

his charm wasn’t working, y/n not in the mood for pet names without meaning. her eyes found alina and mal on the other side of the room, having their own quarrel about the proposal. she couldn’t help but feel like her and the tracker were the same.

“y/n, listen. i know you never wanted this and now we have a reason to end it. take as much as you need, your father won’t hear a word about it. return to sea, or-“ he cleared his throat, somehow more nervous asking this than her hand in marriage. “or stay as my advisor. it would be foolish of me to let go of your talents.”

hearing these words years ago would’ve had her over the moon. she’d be overjoyed, running through the door without saying goodbye. and yet she found herself unable to move, her breath hitching at his offer. he was giving her a reason to stay.

“i suppose it would be dangerous to leave you without supervision.” she tried her best to look nonchalant, but if a heartrender walked by, surely they’d think she was having a heart attack.

watching sturmhond flirt his way out of tricky situations was one thing, but seeing the way the prince treated his new lyubov was another. it was once y/n that got to intertwine their fingers, got to hear sweet nothings fall from his lips. it was all pretend but she couldn’t help the ugly feeling blooming inside her chest.

“i see changing brides is as easy as changing clothes, brother.” vasily mused after the engagement became public over dinner.

“good riddance to that feral girl you were so obsessed with before, no amount of money attached to her family could make her a worthy princess.” the queen nodded along, eyeing her second son.

alina watched as nikolai flexed his jaw, ignoring his family. instead his eyes were roaming the crowd, searching for someone. and when he found who he was looking for, alina had to bite down a gasp. there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

“y/n, it seems congratulations are in order.” zoya leaned over the the table, a smirk painted on her lips. “you’ve managed to escape a boring, pompous royal life.”

“pardon?” tamar leaned in just as close from the other side, nearly brushing noses with zoya.

“seriously? am i the only one who remembers that y/n was promised to nikolai?” the squaller stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. it should’ve been, but people only cared for saints.

y/n placed a gentle hand on tamar’s shoulder, ordering her friend to back down. instead she raised her glass, deciding the next best thing was to drown her sorrows. and soon she was laughing, her head thrown back like she was back at sea, enjoying a late night drink with her crew. with liquid courage and burning cheeks, she extended her hand to mal. she felt the need to cheer the tracker up.

her vision was becoming difficult as she danced, failing to notice that mal had twirled her into someone else’s arms. it was only when he spoke did she realize the warm hand on the small of her back belonged to her beloved prince.

“i barely get to see you now, moya lyubimaya.”

“don’t call me that.” she exhaled in content, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to the slow song playing.

“it’s never bothered you before.”

“i didn’t care if it was real or not before.” she admitted, the poison in her veins untying her tongue.

“and what if i said it had always been real, moya lyubimaya?”

“i would call you a liar.” she looked up at him, so beautiful with her doe eyes and long lashes. and then she was pulling away, leaving the prince lonely in a room full of people.

there was little time for sulking after that. the spinning wheel fell under attack and y/n was second in command once again. it was like second nature to stand besides nikolai, ordering people around and keeping the situation from spiraling further. when he was mulling over what to do with genya, she threw a warning glance his way. if an advisor he wanted, an advisor he would get.

there was no denying that they were good together. even when it came to facing the darkling and his army of grisha and shadow, y/n never lost her head. that was until the church, until a certain sharp shooting durast trapped them inside with a shadow of the size of two men. that was the only time y/n didn’t think, she just did as she pushed the now king out of the way, shielding him from the monster coming his way.

she couldn’t remember much after, just fragments of conversations and trembling hands trying to glue her back together. the thought of nikolai safe and sound lulled her to sleep.

when she rose, she was met with genya’s wide eyes. she was tending to her wound, the awful gash on y/n’s abdomen requiring everyday tailoring. the grisha smiled then, a genuine smile for the first time in days. she pulled away to reveal the king asleep in a chair next to y/n’s bed.

“wouldn’t leave your side.” genya whispered before walking over to wake him.

it was like he was struck by lightning, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to the woman’s bedside. grasping her hand tightly in his, he thanked the saints with tears in his eyes.

“please, moy tsar, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“you will send me to an early grave, woman.”

“clearly, it will be the other way around.” she dared to glance down, genya having left her abdomen exposed. it wasn’t pretty, thick dark stitching slicing her belly in half. she nearly jumped out of her skin as the king placed his palm on top of it.

“see this scar?”

he nodded towards his hand, revealing a long pale line trailing through all of his fingers.

“this is where you cut me the day we met. i refuse to get it tailored, to keep as reminder of you everywhere i go.”

“nikolai-“

“i know it was an act of protest, but you had me falling head over heels. from that moment on, i knew you’d be the one for me. my second in command, i would fall apart without you by my side. i had this whole grand gesture planned, to make up for how you were treated before. but i can’t wait a second longer.”

he pulled out the ring y/n had returned him. suddenly it held no weight to it, it was light as a feather sitting on her finger. like it was always meant to be there.

“and what of your pervious engagement?”

“well my advisor was out of commission for a while, so i haven’t really thought it through.” she rolled her eyes at the king’s teasing. but she couldn’t help but allow herself to smile, wiping the smug look off his face with a kiss.

#nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond x you #shadow and bone

1K notes · View notes