#he did not tell me he was leaving and did not respond to my texts or calls

[usomads]

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process. 

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away. 

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe. 

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him. 

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?” 

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…” 

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-” 

“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you…  only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?” 

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him. 

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?” 

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him. 

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[inmyheaddd]

loving you forever can’t be wrong - rafe cameron x reader

summary: your ex has been non stop texting you for weeks, and you tell rafe. then he leaves as you fall asleep to go ‘handle some things’ warnings: mild language, sweet!rafe (to you atleast!!), mentions of cuts and blood wc: 1.5k

another notification came from your ex, insulting you in one paragraph, then begging for you back in the next. 

as rafe sat on the couch next to you typing away at his phone, you pulled your bottom lip through your teeth anxiously as you thought on what to do about the situation, ultimately deciding on speaking up.

you cleared your throat —a nervous habit, before calling out. “rafe?”

he hummed lowly in response, signaling he was listening as his eyes stayed glued to his phone.

swallowing thickly before speaking, you said,“there’s this guy who keeps bothering me— well, it’s my ex, and i keep blocking him, but he keeps finding ways to text me.” 

you would’ve found the way his head snapped up so quickly at the mention of a guy, more so your ex, in any other situation hilarious. but nothing really felt funny right now.

“what the fuck?” his attention was fully on you now, as that angry glint in his eyes reserved for his fights began to reappear, along with that oh so familiar clench of his jaw. “bothering you?”

“yeah like, texting me and stuff and calling m—“ 

he clicked his tounge, visibly frustrated as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “nah, what? let me see this shit.” he motioned for you to come closer, and you placed your phone in his hand as you sat next to him, bringing one knee to your chest and hugging it. 

as he read through the messages, you told him the multiple stories on how many times you’ve blocked this guy, how many accounts he’s made, and how you never even respond to him. 

his tounge poked the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his anger in check, shaking his head and scoffing in disbelief, even laughing at the guy. 

“the fuck?” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the messages, seeing just how far they went back. “he’s been texting you for weeks? how pathetic is this fucker, huh?”

you simply pursed your lips in response, shrugging as rafes eyes flickered between yours and the phone.

his eyes slightly narrowed, then came the question, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

you weren’t really too sure, if you were being honest. you truly believed the blocking would’ve put him to a stop, but the messages only kept getting more and more aggressive. 

“well, i thought that he would stop, and, well, i don’t know…” you trailed off, your voice getting quieter as your eyes flickered to the phone, then back to rafe. “he just didn’t.” 

his jaw ticked as he heard the way your voice slightly quivered, and you could’ve sworn his eyes almost softened, but who were you kidding? this was rafe cameron you were dealing with. 

“listen, next time, you tell me first fucking thing when anyone’s bothering you, alright?”

he pointed a finger at you as to further get his point across, and you let go of your knee, sighing as you did so. 

“rafe i’m fine, i promise.” your voice involuntarily pitched higher towards the end of the sentence, coming across as a whiny child more so than the grown person you were. 

“alright?”

you opened your mouth to speak, then shut it again as he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, his finger still pointed. you nodded, mumbling a small, “yeah, alright.” 

there wasn’t any room to argue. 

he mumbled under his breath as he resumed scrolling through the messages, a thick vein becoming prominent in his neck. “there won’t be a fucking next time, after i’m done with this sick fuck.”

“what?” 

he didn’t take his eyes off the phone, then he smiled, and the only way to describe that smile was wicked. “nothin’, baby.”

—

you were drifting in and out of sleep off watching shitty reality tv, cuddled up in your fuzzy blanket. you faintly felt rafe come up to you and press a kiss to your shoulder before he got up and left, causing you to stir awake. 

when you were fully awake, and realised he had left, you texted him countlessly, worrying where he was. he didn’t respond until 2 hours later with ‘handling things’ and ‘open the door baby’. 

you instantly hurried to the door, anticipating what you were going to see behind it. your breath hitched as you opened the door anyways, as rafe stood infront of you. his chest rising and falling heavily, his knuckles bloodied, and a slight bruise forming on his jaw — it was nothing you hadn’t seen before from him, but your heart still dropped every time. 

you couldn’t manage anything but a whisper as you brought a hand to your mouth, “oh my god, rafe.” 

he side stepped past you, running a hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. standing there, he looked like the complete opposite of you, with his disheveled clothes and sweaty skin. 

your hair was freshly blow dried after the shower you took to calm yourself down, still smelling like your shampoo, and your face was in a complete frown.

you knew what happened, but that didn’t stop you from asking anyway as you stepped towards him. “what did you do?”

“nothin,” he said, with that same smile from earlier as he brought a hand up, stroking your hair as he looked down at you. “you’re real pretty, you know that?” 

you sighed annoyedly as your lips took on a slight pout, but you leaned into his touch nonetheless. “rafe.” 

“what?” he replied in the same tone as you, you’d say he was mocking you if you didn’t know any better. 

he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he stepped even closer, your head slightly craning up. “baby, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.”

clearly you weren’t doing a very good job at hiding how worried you were. 

“what if you got hurt? or- or if he called the cops or something? you need to be careful, rafe.”

you tried not to worry, to just let him do his thing, and be all laid back, but it was so hard when he came back to you all bruised and bloody and acted like nothing happened. 

he let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor behind it— more like he was trying to make light of the situation.

“the cops can’t do shit. i know what im doing.” when you didn’t respond, only sighing as you broke eye contact and looked at the floor, he clicked his tounge, pulling you in close and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

you couldn’t wipe the pout off your face, but you moved your arms to wrap around his torso. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair as he gently swayed you side to side. “won’t do it again.“ 

you laid your head on his chest. you knew that he did this every single time, but a small part of you wanted to believe it anyways. 

“promise?” you asked.

“promise.” 

you lifted your head up from his chest to look at him, and you couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on your lips. 

he chuckled at just how fast your mood changed, running a hand up and down your arm. “that happy, huh?” 

you didn’t answer, only looking down as you smile widened. when you looked down, you saw his other hand with its beat up knuckles, and remembered the whole reason you were worried in the first place. 

you unwrapped your arms from him, carefully picking up his hand with the both of yours, wary not to touch any of the cuts.“oh my god,” you muttered, “we need to get that fixed up.”

—

rafe sat on the closed toilet lid, as you stood in between his legs. you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration as you wiped down his cuts on his knuckles with an alchohol wipe. 

“you know, if you didn’t get into a fight, we wouldn’t have to do this right now.” you murmured, your eyes flitting between his hands and his eyes. 

he clicked his tongue, “he was askin’ for it, talking to my girl like that.” 

you said nothing, only looking at him briefly, as you moved to his other hand, which was evidently worse than the one you had just done. he took a sharp intake of breath as you gently wiped his over cuts, turning his head to the side and clenching his jaw. then he blew out a breath, almost like a whistle.

you immediately stopped your actions, placing your hands back to your side as you went to get a better look at his face. “i’m sorry, are you okay?”  

“yeah,” he breathed out as he looked at you,  and he nodded forward slightly, motioning for you to continue. “jus’ keep doing your thing baby.” 

you managed a small smile in response, resuming but attempting to be even more careful. 

after a couple beats of silence, you spoke. “you better not split these open, and have us sitting here again.” 

you tried to sound serious and warning as you put a band aid on some of the bigger cuts, but rafe only let out a breathy chuckle at your words.

“you sure you don’t like doin’ this?” 

“that’s…” you bit back a smile and avoided eye contact, but you knew rafe was somewhat grinning. “that’s not the point.” you were finally done now, and your hands fell back to your sides.  

“yeah, you’re funny, alright.” he let out another one of his laughs before he stood up, wrapping an arm lazily around your shoulders as he steered you both back to your room. 

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?�� 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Female reader and Leona Kingscholar, heat and breed please!

Warnings: Leona in a rut, oral (f! receiving), biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick lion ig?, always have your partner’s consent just like Leona has yours, creampie

Leona Kingscholar

When this man goes into his rut, he is an insatiable beast. It’s not even that he actually wants kids, but the thought of filling you up made him so hard that he couldn’t help himself but keep you full of his cum.

It was a mistake, really, walking into his room because you were so worried about him. Actually, a lot of Savanaclaw was on lockdown, and you were worried about your boyfriend. A few of the students who were still out and about warned you about going into the dormitory, let alone Leona’s room, but that made you even more concerned.

Once you opened the door, you heard the lion in question groaning. You called out his name, worried that he might be in some sort of pain. 

“Y/N, I need you to leave… now,” he growled.

“What’s wrong, Leona? Your dorm is on lockdown-”

You were cut off by him, because you blinked and suddenly you were pinned to the now-closed door.

“I said that you need to leave.” You expected him to be angry, but instead he had a look of desperation. He was pleading with you. You could feel the intense heat with how close he was. His hair was more disheveled than usual, a telltale sign that something was wrong.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” You insisted. He bore his teeth, his canines showing. You were starting to get a bit scared before he pushed off of you. “Leona?”

“Some of the beastmen in the dorm are going into their ruts. Did you walk all the way over here? In the midst of all this?! Where all these guys can smell you?!!!” His mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could you be this stupid? How could you come here, to a place with a bunch of guys going through this??

“You weren’t responding to my texts or calls, and I was getting worried!” This guy must have purchased his audacity because any girlfriend would be understandably worried when their boyfriend wasn’t responding.

He went quiet for a few moments. He was looking away from you, and you were worried that something was truly wrong. But, in the light, you saw a sheen of sweat on his face and you saw that his face was tinged with red. He was panting. You also noticed the not-very-subtle bulge in his pants.

Oh. Oh shit.

Now is when you process his words. The entire dorm was on lockdown because they are in their rutting seasons…

A certain familiar wetness made itself known between your legs, and Leona’s pupils dilated at smelling your arousal. What have you gotten yourself into? And why were you excited to find out?

In a matter of seconds, you could feel passionate kisses trailing up and down your neck, and you were powerless against it. The lion that you had called your boyfriend up to this point was nowhere to be found, and he had gone quite feral. However, he was still a gentleman.

“Y/N, this is your last chance to leave. If you stay, I won’t be able to control myself.” Leona managed to pull away for a few seconds to utter those words right next to your ear, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“Good, because I don’t want you to control yourself.” Was all you said, and you were hoisted up into the air, pinned to the door once again. You wrapped your legs around his torso to make sure you didn’t slip as you both began to make out. 

The beastman pulled away first, making sure to bite your bottom lip. However, the space wasn’t open for very long. It was just enough time to take you from the door to his bed. If he was going to make you his mat, he wanted to do it properly. Wait… mating? When did that come into play??

Doesn’t matter because he places his hands on the inside of your thighs a bit to separate them so he could slide your shorts and panties off easier. The smell emanating from the heat between your legs was heavenly.

Leona found himself quickly climbing off so that he could unbuckle his belt and take off his pants and boxers, revealing a length you weren’t sure you could handle. He saw your eyes widened, and so he crawled between your legs and started licking at your exposed folds.

His tongue had a bit of a rougher texture, not quite like a cat, but not quite like a human. It was something in-between, and it worked for your benefit. The sensation had you writhing and squirming in pleasure… that was, until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders.

“You’re not going anywhere, herbivore,” he mumbled straight into your pussy before going back to eating you out. 

Even though this was supposed to be to prepare you for his cock, this was also for his pleasure. Being surrounded by your smell and getting to taste your juices was all he could ever ask for. He left hickies and bite marks on your thighs as well. His canines drew blood on one of the marks, and he licked it up which made you whimper.

When he deemed you wet enough, he climbed up and lined his tip up with your entrance.

“It’s going to hurt, and you can tell me to stop whenever you want. If I don’t, slap me or some shit. I don’t want to do anything without your consent,” you nodded at his words, but he shook his head. “I need words, Y/n.”

“Please, Leona! I want you in me!” You moaned, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. That’s when the last shred of sanity was barely hanging on.

He slowly entered you, giving you time to adjust to his size. You winced in pain, and once he was fully inside, he stopped. Your walls were squeezing the life out of him, and a groan made its way from out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower not to just rail you into oblivion.

After a few moments, he started slowly pulling back out, and the feeling was unlike anything else. He thrust his cock back in, and your eyes rolled back. Leona took this as an okay to start moving quicker. Your pussy squeezed him so hard, every time he pulled out it was like a magnet, calling for him to go back in. 

The coil in your belly unraveled not too far into your session with him. You soaked his cock in your juices, and he let out a deep, sexy growl before speeding up even more. Your overstimulated cunt was weeping and begging for more, and she got what she asked for. 

“Where do you want my cum, herbivore?” He was nearing his own release, and he looked into your eyes.

“Inside… Inside, please!” You mewled. You locked your legs around him, locking him in place.

Not too long after, you felt an explosion of warmth inside of you, and Leona leaned into your neck, biting into it and drawing even more blood. His tongue gently ran over it to clean it up, and he placed kisses along it as well.

He tried to pull back and admire his work, wanting to see you in your entirety. However, your legs were not letting go. Where you both remained connected, your juices were mixing with another, and some were getting on the sheets as well. Not that the Housewarden minded; it would remind him of the day he got to claim you as his own.

Your walls began squeezing him again, also not wanting to let go of him. Even though it hasn’t even been a full 5 minutes since you both came, he was hard again and you were aroused again.

“If we go again, herbivore, I might knock you up. Shit, I might have already. Do you want that?” He leaned more towards your ear, whispering. “Do you want to be filled with my cubs?”

And with that, you both fucked in every. possible. position. for the entire week he was in rut. You barely caught a break, and you were often on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

[goldsbitch]

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

//

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

[sstargirln]

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ variety

art donaldson x fem!reader

TW: smut MDNI - p in v, oral m receiving - infidelity, art is a little bit of a perv, derogatory language

word count: 2047

¡! ❞ a/n: bold = art's thoughts!

art knew it was wrong. he knew it was wrong when his eyes tracked your body with every stretch, every jump, when his dick began to rise as he watched you play, when he caught himself thinking of you while fucking his wife.

he knew it was all so, so, so wrong.

but yet, when you came up to him, after winning his match at the tournament the two of you were playing at, asking if he coached (he didn't), he found himself blurting out a desperate and high-pitched "yes!"

you raised your eyebrows slightly at his tone, but smiled brightly nonetheless. "great!" you responded, looking up at him through your lashes. "i'm gonna try out for the olympics, sooo. i need a really good coach."

i'm not a coach. tashi's a great coach, art thought. my wife, she's a great coach.

"well, i'm a great coach!" art assured you. why did i say that? "at least, that's what, um, they tell me." who's they? shit, just shut up. he clamped his mouth shut.

"good," you nodded. "here's my number. just text me your availability." you fumbled with your purse, producing a wrinkled piece of paper with your phone number scrawled on it.

"will do," art answered, curt, dry, and professional so he wouldn't say anything too stupid like i'm super infatuated with you and i was staring at your tits the whole time you were talking and i want to bend you over and fuck your brains out every single time you make eye contact with me. or something along those lines.

you smiled again, flashing your perfect teeth before turning around on your heels and flouncing out of the court, leaving art standing there, jaw slightly agape as he watched your hips sway. he felt a tent begin to form in his pants and he cursed under his breath.

✮✮✮

"i'm so fucked." art downed another shot of vodka, slamming the glass down on the chipped wood veneer of the bar. "she's got, like, fucking pornstar tits, pat! it's so crazy."

patrick sat on the barstool next to him, cigarette dangling from his lips and fingers tapping a rhythm onto the bar. "and you're not gonna do anything about it?"

art looked at him with a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lip captured by his front teeth. "obviously not! i have a wife."

"well, that's clearly not stopping you from thinking about her pornstar tits."

art sighed loudly, leg bouncing on the stool. "nothing wrong with having a little crush." he definitely wasn't thinking about how you'd look under him, pinned against the mattress of his fancy hotel room, eyes crossed, mouth agape, yelling his name. definitely not.

" 's long as you don't fuck her at your little private sesh," patrick sang, taking a long drag of the cigarette. art shot him a glare. "i'm not even discouraging it, bud. i think it'd be good for you."

"cheating on my wife would be good for me?"

"variety feels good," patrick said, passing him the cigarette. art took it gratefully, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling deeply. the two boys sat in silence for a few seconds, art surveying the dingy bar and patrick surveying the group of girls in the corner.

"i think i should tell her i don't coach."

"i think you should have sex with her."

✮✮✮

the day of your first private practice, art was wracked with emotion — mostly lust.

the night before, he called your number, almost creaming right then and there when your voice rang out, soft and sweet, exclaiming his name. he was perched on the bathtub of him and tashi's hotel room, afraid that simply talking to you was infidelious, and that any moment, tashi would burst in and just divorce him on the spot. but the conversation went smoothly, and the next morning, art was stumbling out to a private court, racket and a bucket of tennis balls in hand.

you were already there when he arrived at the court, dressed in a white tennis skirt and black tank, stretching your legs. you smiled when you saw art and bounced up to your feet. "you're late," you quipped.

"a little," art responded, already flustered. "sorry." he gave you a crooked smile.

you smiled back and beckoned him over to where you had been stretching. a notebook sat flipped open on the ground, and you bent over to pick it up, skirt hitching up high enough that art could see the beginnings of blue lace panties.

fuck.

"i watched over the recording of my match yesterday," you explained, handing him the notebook, which was filled with pretty handwriting and tennis diagrams. "my boyfriend and i just kind of wrote down everything we thought i needed to work on."

art didn't hear anything else you said after boyfriend. 'course she has a boyfriend. why wouldn't she? he nodded anyway, distracted by the light brush of your arm against his hand as you pointed out different things on the page. he can smell your shampoo. the scent of your perfume invades his senses, making him feel a little dizzy.

you looked up at him as you finished explaining, grin widening at the expression on his face. he was staring straight at you, eyes slightly glossy and breathing slow. you had him right where you wanted him.

"art?"

"yeah, sounds great!" art's voice was strained, and he blinked quickly to focus back in on your voice, which was now detailing how much time the two of you had to work.

two hours. that's all. c'mon, you can get through that without a boner.

✮✮✮

no he could not. the way you moved on the court, combined with your little squeals every time you hit the ball, combined with your tiny little skirt, combined with the grin you were flashing him, combined with you just being you, made his dick strain against his pants as he watched you from the bleachers, hitting balls into the wall.

"try to, um, keep your knees bent a little more." he was trying to coach, imitating the way tashi would talk to him when they were on the court. he barked commands that didn't really mean much and drew diagrams on the book that looked less like people and more like limp noodles.

you didn't really need the coaching — you were a beautiful player, fast and relentless with perfect technique. but you wanted art there, wanted to feel his gaze burning into your ass, or your tits, or the curve of your spine while you hit the tennis balls with amazing accuracy. he hadn't seemed to notice that you didn't need his help, because he continued to order you around in a tone that made your thighs clench and your panties soak.

after an hour, art joined you on the court, expression neutral but eyes still trained on your chest as you played a couple of sets. you kept making low eye contact with him, and it was driving him crazy.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

your skirt flipped up as you jumped to the side for the ball, flashing him a gorgeous view of your underwear. it flew up again, and you seemingly didn't notice as you bent over to grab another ball. art noticed. he also noticed the prominent wet patch that was forming around your entrance, making his breath hitch in his throat yet again.

she's wet. for me?

you continued to play, but art was distracted, faulting again and again. "are you okay, art?" you called from across the court, noticing his troubled expression.

art nodded and replied with a pained smile, holding up a thumb.

"your serve."

✮✮✮

after your practice, you made your way back to the locker rooms. you were chattering about technique, taking great pleasure in the way art was looking at you, pupils blown and eyes low.

you split at the entrance, art making his way to the men's showers and you to the women's. "shit," you muttered, looking up at the big CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE sign.

art was just standing under the water, letting the cold hit his skin as if to rid him of the thoughts he was having and the absolute raging desire that coursed through him. he jumped when he heard the creak of another shower knob turn behind him.

you were already undressed, and the sight of the perfect tits art had been dreaming about bare made him dizzy. you gave him a crooked little frown. "women's showers are closed. hope you don't mind."

art shook his head slowly, eyes locked on your figure. "not at all."

fuck this.

he couldn't contain himself any longer. he sprung at you, grabbing you by the hips and latching his lips onto yours as water continued to cascade over the two of you. you reciprocated the kiss sloppily, hands roaming over his toned skin as your tongues tangled.

you didn't really care, but you felt like you had to say something to protest, make up some type of excuse that made you seem like a little less of a bad person. "we really shouldn't," you panted, pulling away. "you have a wife."

"you have a boyfriend," art spat, hands still freely exploring your chest. "an' that didn't stop you from being a little slut back at the court." art's words were stinging, because this was all your fault. how was he supposed to focus on his wife when you were here, so beautiful and willing?

that was all you needed to kiss him again, nodding and swirling your tongue against his. art continued to grope at your tits, pinching and pulling at your nipples. you glanced down at his dick, which was brick-hard and glistening under the water. dropping to your knees, you tease his tip with soft, sloppy kisses, making him buck his hips against your mouth.

slowly, you took his dick down your mouth, sucking at the tip hard enough to elicit a low groan from the man. up and down up and down up and down on his dick went your mouth, your pace quickening as his hands reached down to grip onto your hair. "shit, love," he grunted, snapping his hips so he was fucking your throat, causing tears to spring into your eyes. you had never looked more beautiful in art's eyes, sopping wet, mascara smudged and hair sticking to your face in little ringlets. he continued to shove his cock down your throat despite the little gagging sounds you were making. with each thrust, his moans grew louder, his fingers tangling in your hair. finally, he pulled out of your mouth with a pop!, spurting cum all over your face and some into your open mouth.

"turn around."

you turned your body so you were flush against the wall, ass sticking up and chest pressed up against the cold tile. art surveying your folds, unable to tell if the sopping entrance was covered in just water or arousal too. either way, it served as the perfect lubricant, allowing his cock to slip right into you, making you arch your back against him. the moans slipping past your lips were practically pornographic as he rammed into you hard enough that you could feel the bulge in your belly. art grunted with each snapping movement of his hips. "fuck," he hissed lowly, the feeling of your beautiful, tight little pussy around his cock so good he heard himself whimper.

your whole body moved as he pounded into you feverishly, hands slipping against the wall as you tried to stabilize yourself. your pussy clenched around him, legs shuddering as your release rushed through your body like an avalanche of pleasure. you glanced back at him, taking in the way his eyes fluttered and his mouth shook. "does tashi feel as good as i do?"

and that was it. 8 words that threw him right over the edge, spurting into you with fervor. infidelity shouldn't turn him on this much, shouldn't feel so fucking good. but it did.

and when he stumbled back to the hotel room, pecking tashi lightly on the lips, cock still throbbing, he thought to himself — patrick was right, variety felt amazing.

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.

[redzie02]

San comes home from tour in the middle of the night

needed the comfort so here’s a short San fic

warnings: none ?/ maybe slightly suggestive at the end/ comfort/ dialogue starts under the cut lol masterlist

You'd been thrashing around for hours, trying to find comfort, but no luck. The bed was uncomfortable. Your pillow was too warm. Even your comforter annoyed you.

Peaceful sleep was not something you were well acquainted with the last few months, especially considering the absence of your favorite person. San.

You knew what you signed up for when you and San started dating, but it didn't make times like these any less difficult. Daily phone calls and texts only did so much to ease the longing.

Frustrated and miserable, you sat up and dramatically snatched your pillow and smacked it onto the opposite end of the bed. With a huff, you laid down and exhaled deeply, satisfied with the new sleeping arrangement. It was somehow exponentially more comfortable, but something was missing.

You couldn't be bothered to sit up again, so you slid your foot under San's pillow and gently tossed it to the other end of the bed. You held it tightly to your body, inhaling the subtle mixture of San's shampoo and fresh body odor before tucking it under your chin- the same way he holds you.

The remnants of San's faint aroma hit you straight in the gut. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your throat starting to tighten.

Just one more week and he'll be home. Don't cry. You repeated these words to yourself while blindly patting down the bed in search for your phone. You squinted at your screen before sending a text.

3:58 am my y/n♡: i miss you :(

You tossed your phone to the side, not expecting an answer. You'd sent San over a dozen texts yesterday, but he only responded back by hearting a few of the messages. A bit infuriating, but you understood he was most likely just busy.

-

You awoke with a startle when you felt something lightly dragging up and down your arm. The lamp in the furthest corner of the bedroom was on, casting a soft yellow glow, but still bright enough to leave you squinting at the figure before you.

You almost whimper when you realize San was standing just a few inches away from you. You practically leapt up, throwing your arms around San's neck, almost causing him to stumble. You couldn't help the whine in your voice as you spoke, your voice groggy from the fatigue. “I thought tour ended next week.”

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, constricting your breathing a bit, but you didn't care. “I got the dates mixed up, that’s my fault, baby, I'm sorry. I texted you when I was on my way thirty minutes ago, didn’t you see it? I sent it right after I saw your text.”

“I don’t even know where I threw that thing, if we’re being honest." He chuckled into your neck. "Ugh, I don’t care. You’re finally home.”

You pulled him backwards until he was laying on top of you on the bed. He lifted his head from your shoulder, his smiley eyes taking in every millimeter of your face as you did the exact same. He freed his right arm from under you and smoothed your hair out of your face. His breath tickled your cheek as he quietly spoke, “It was four in the morning when you texted me…Why were you up, hmm?”

You wrapped your legs around San’s waist, your whole body clinging to him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, your fingers caressing his warm, soft skin. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you.”

He raised his eyebrow, but his body relaxed even further in your embrace. “You never mentioned this.”

“The last thing I want is for you to worry about me when you’re about to perform for thousands of people.” You sighed.

He hummed in understanding, but rebutted, leaning down to place kisses on your cheek. “I want to worry about you. You’re the most important person in my life.”

“I’m telling your mom that.”

“Please don’t.” He pouted and took a moment to run his index finger across your eyebrows and down your nose. “I haven’t been able to sleep either.”

You pinched San's waist, drawing out a small yelp from him. “San! You promised you were taking care of yourself.”

“I was, I swear…but it really started to hit me a month into the tour. It was so hard not seeing your clothes all over the floor.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh? You make me sound like a slob…”

“What I mean is…the only reminder of you that I had with me was the pendant you gave me and your pictures in my phone. Nothing felt like home.”

“Oh. I almost wish that was all I had of you. Everything in this apartment and this city reminded me of you. It only made me miss you more.” His thumb stroked your cheek. "I know it's your job, but I hate when you leave."

“Me too, baby." San's eyes softened when they met your glossy ones, a small pang in his heart. He couldn't help himself as he brought his lips to yours, inhaling your sigh. What started off as soft kisses, grew more eager, months of deprivation just barely being chipped away.

San let out a noise between a whine and a groan as he pulled away. "I missed this,” he cups your face before dragging his thumb from your cheek to your now wet bottom lip. “And this.” He kisses the tip of your nose and continues to leave a perfect path of pecks down the side of your face. “This.” He places a kiss on your earlobe before taking it between his teeth, gently nipping. “You,” he whispers in your ear. “Us.” His lips leave a trail of kisses down your neck. The breath of his sigh tickles your skin, sending chills up and down your body.

You push San’s hair out his face, running your fingers through his silky, dark locks. You close your eyes, feeling your body relax just a bit too much. As badly as you wanted to keep going, exhaustion was beginning to eat away at you. “Sannie.”

“Hmm?”

“We should sleep.”

“Continue later?”

“Yes, please.”

a/n: San took a shower before falling asleep btw he is not stinky.,,,all my fics are lowkey the same lol

[nitewingbabi]

↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night? 

➤ parents aren’t home. 

➤ neighbours are out of town. 

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 

Unknown Caller 

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

[icysab]

more niki boyfie hcs — falling for you edition!

requested here!

wc: <350 i think

a/n: this is a little different than my standard boyfie hcs but i wanted to try something new, so let me know your opinion in comments, reblogs, asks, etc. of this format !!

a/n no. 2: idc what anyone says riki is a DORKY, RIZZLESS LOSER SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD BOY AND I WILL WRITE HIM AS SUCH.

- bro was CAPTIVATED by your smile

- that was literally the first thing he noticed about you— how your smile lit up the room he was in

- you were one of jungwon’s friends and so he introduced you to all the members

- and when i tell you niki’s heart STOPPED when he saw you

- but niki is loyal to his bros!! so he swallowed the lump in his throat so jungwon didn’t kill him

- (jungwon, in fact, introduced you to the members because you mentioned that niki was cute. he would not have cared one bit.)

- only realizes he’s staring after sunoo nudges him with his elbow

- literally stuttering trying to introduce himself

- “i, uh, my name is- uh- riki”

- (failed) attempts at acting aloof fly out the window when you repeat his name back and smile

- the second you leave jake and sunghoon RELENTLESSLY tease the poor guy

- and he gets so defensive too, like he wasn’t acting like a lost puppy dog

- before jakehoon can strip niki of too much of his pride though, won tells them to knock it off

- after scolding the two goofballs (scary leader) won decides to tell niki

- “you know, i don’t care if you go for her”

- poor riki is not following

- “??”

- “she thinks you’re cute too, and besides, you’d make a good match”

- he malfunctions

- “no nono why would you think that!! HAHA- wait. she thinks i’m cute??”

- he’s all red and blushy

- at this point jakehoon are CACKLING at poor riki

- won explains that you thought riki was cute too and that’s why he introduced you two, but he didn’t expect him to be such a nervous wreck around you

- riki is shocked 😮

- after MUCH coaxing from the members, won finally gets riki to text your number

- riki’s leg won’t stop bouncing with nerves as he types out a message

- “hey, this is riki from earlier. i just wanted to say that your shirt was cool”

- all the members facepalm at his attempts at playing it cool

- you respond almost instantly, to riki’s surprise

- “hi riki!! thank you, + i thought your outfit was cool too :D”

- before he can breathe a sigh of relief that your text was super nice and simple, he sees the typing bubble pop up again

- “did you ask won for my number? hah you must have wanted an excuse to talk to me again ”

- he freezes again

- HOW DID YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH HIM??

- he’s about to deny, deny, deny, but won stops him

- “dude, just tell her the truth. did you already forget that she thinks you’re cute too?”

- riki’s brows furrow in thought at that, but before he can even begin to construe a cool, smooth response, jake rips the phone out of his hands

- RIKI SCREAMS SO LOUD THE ENTIRE DORM REVERBERATES while jake books it to the bathroom to lock himself in

- after a minute, he walks out with riki’s phone and the most devilish smirk on his lips

- before jake can do anything else, riki snatches the phone back and apprehensively starts to read the damage jake had done

- “lol you caught me. if you want, we could get to know each other better over some ice cream tmr? it’ll be my treat”

- “woah, that was smoother than i expected. ill see you tmr riki :)”

- riki is dumbfounded. did jake actually just score him a date with YOU?? there’s no way this worked

- “thank me later,” jake teases

- he is so in shock that he doesn’t even have the capacity to kill jake. tomorrow, a date (???) with you? he can die a happy man.

- to be continued…. ?

[wonryllis]

☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[grandprixprincess]

hermana part 2 || ln4

lando norris x fem!reader smau + written

part 1!

warnings: some language, slightly steamy scene (no smut but mdni!!), carlos being a protective big brother and lando being down bad

a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1! I decided to do a mix of written + smau for this part. requests are open for smau and text fics <3

landonorris posted

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others

landonorris perfect day in the sun with the best company. getting lots of rest and relaxation before the triple header 🤙

view all comments

user1 "best company" aka just y/n

user2 wait she was with him again today??? user1 yes! f1gossip just posted the photos. they were alone all day 👀

user3 omg this means y/n took these pics! y/n.jpg when?

maxfewtrell looks like my invite got lost

user4 💀💀💀

yourusername ☀️🤗

user5 queen y/n thank u for taking these great pics

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N were spotted getting cozy this afternoon. The two embarked on a private yacht for an afternoon filled with swimming and laughter. Eyewitnesses say the two were alone all afternoon. It seems like things are rapidly heating up with these two. The next time Y/L/N is seen in the paddock, will she be rocking red ❤️ or papaya 🧡?

view all comments

user2 LANY/N NATION WAKE UP

user3 i can't believe lany/n is real omg

user1 right?? people used to ship them during the carlando mclaren days and now it's REAL

user4 the hand placement omgggg

user5 i wonder what carlos thinks

user2 who cares? it's their lives not his

user6 y/n in papaya at the austin gp pleaseee

user5 ain't no way. she'll always support carlos first, he is basically her brother

yourusername posted a close friends story

story replies:

yourbestfriend not the private yacht on the FIRST DATE

yourusername technically our first date is tomorrow night yourbestfriend literally stfu you know what i meant

carlossainz55 don't stay out too late

yourusername 🙄

landonorris posted a close friends story

story replies:

maxfewtrell did you tell her that you've been secretly in love with her for like 5 years yet or

landonorris OBVIOUSLY NOT i'm trying to play it cool

oscarpiastri I think I missed a chapter

carlossainz55 get my sister back home early cabrón

landonorris leave us alone carlos carlossainz55 excuse me? landonorris NO SORRY THAT WAS Y/N SHE TOOK MY PHONE landonorris I'll make sure she gets home safe mate! 👍

You giggled as you watched Lando frantically type a message back to Carlos. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!"

You played with the stem of your wine glass. It had been a dream of a day. You were now sharing a bottle of wine together to end the night.

"Your brother is going to have my head!" He finished typing his message out, feeling satisfied, before setting his phone back down.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you said, "You know he isn't really my brother, right?"

Lando chuckled. "You try telling him that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You swirled your glass a bit, taking another sip. "He's always been protective like that."

Lando let out another chuckle. "Oh trust me, I know."

His response and tone piqued your interest. You turned your head towards him, seeing a sly smile on his handsome face. "What do you mean?"

Lando opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke. "I may have tried to ask you out in the past, but Carlos sort of, put a stop to it."

Your jaw dropped in shock. "What?!" You tried to fully understand what he was saying. "When was this exactly?"

Without hesitation, Lando responded, "During Carlos' last year in McLaren."

The shock was evident on your face. Silence rang in the air as you tried to find your words. Lando took the opportunity to speak again.

"And again during his first year in Ferrari."

"What?!" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. When Carlos was at McLaren, you were taking a few years off from school to travel. Traveling the world ended up being easy to do when Carlos agreed to let you tag along to all the races as his "assistant". Carlos was on a new team in F1 with a rookie teammate that was your age. You and Lando became friends quickly, and it wasn't long until you began to harbor a crush on him.

It was a secret only you and Y/BSF/N knew about. You definitely didn't tell Carlos, because you knew how that would go.

Once Carlos left McLaren, you went back to school and your appearances at the races dwindled down to one or two a year. You and Lando went from spending every weekend together running around the paddock, to seeing each other in passing as you made your way to Ferrari and he made his way to McLaren.

"That little shit. I'm going to kill him."

You weren't sure if it was the wine or just how carefree and fun everything with Lando was, but you couldn't stop the fit of giggles that escaped you. After a few moments, Lando joined you in your laughter. Tears began to escape both your eyes.

As the laughter died down, the moment suddenly felt very intimate. Lando's face was extremely close, the rest of the world melting away. "I'm pretty sure I started having a crush on you after that first race weekend." You suddenly felt shy, but you couldn't stop the confession from slipping out.

Now it was Lando's turn to express his surprise, his eyes widening for a moment. He searched your face for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to tell him you were kidding. Finally, he spoke.

"I really want to kiss you."

You were grateful that the sun had fully gone down now, so there was minimal lighting to help hide the blush creeping on your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you whispered out, "Why don't you?"

Lando's adoring gaze had you captivated. "I've wanted to do it for so long now," he confessed, "I want to do it right."

You couldn't help the sly smirk on your face as you teased, "I think we've been pining after each other long enough, don't you think?"

Lando reached his hand forward, cradling your cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed against your cheek, causing goosebumps down your arms.

You wanted to live in this moment forever; Lando being this close, his lips inches from yours. Finally, you both instinctively moved forward, your lips colliding after what felt like an eternity.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to rack your brains over the realization that this was actually and finally happening. After a few seconds, you melted into the kiss, sliding your hands up to rest around his neck.

The two of you moved in sync. It felt like your lips were made for each other. Lando's hand around your head tightened, while his second hand found its home on your waist. One of your hands slide up Lando's neck and into his hair, playing with his curls lightly.

Lando slightly pinched your waist, causing you to gasp, which allowed for his tongue to sneak in. You responded with a slight tug on his curls, causing a groan to escape out of him and into your mouth.

You giggled slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment. "You like that, huh?"

Even though it was dark, you could see how Lando's eyes darkened. With no shame, he responded, "Yes," suddenly his hands slipped down, grabbing your thighs and easily moving you to straddle his lap, "You have no idea the effect anything you do has on me."

Now you were sure it was the wine giving you confidence when you ground your body down to feel his already hard erection. "Oh, I think I have somewhat of an idea." Your hands slipped back into his curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly.

You relished in the way that Lando's eyes fluttered shut, his hands moving to your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind your body with his.

Lando was putty in your hands. You began to feel the heat in your core. You tugged on Lando's curls again, pulling his head back and eliciting a small moan from his lips.

Bringing your head down, your lips connected with his jaw, peppering him with open mouth kisses on both sides of his face before moving down to his neck.

Lando continued guiding the movement of your hips, his hands tightening around your waist and moving them faster as he felt your lips on his neck. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, letting it ring out right in Lando's ear.

Lando was sure he was in heaven. Your moans were music to his ears.

He let one hand leave your hip and travel to your face, bringing you back towards his lips. Your lips collided again, this time with more urgency and desperation.

You both couldn't believe that you had let all these years go by wasted, when you could've been doing this the whole time. You were kissing each other like your lives depended on it.

Lando's hand moved up and down your sides, squeezing slightly, causing another moan to escape from you, and allowing his tongue entrance again.

You moved your hands down his chest, and began to play with the hem of his shirt.

Lando suddenly broke the kiss, breaking the blissful bubble you two had been caught up in.

"We should stop."

You felt fear creep up on you. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want this anymore? As if he could read your worries on your face, he softly brought his lips to yours again for a moment.

"Trust me, I don't want to stop," he began, chuckling lightly, "but I told you. I want to do this right."

You softened at his words. "You're right." You lazily played with his curls again. "Feels like we have to make up for so much lost time, but I'm not going anywhere."

Lando chuckled. "Me either. Now that I know you want me like I want you, you're never getting rid of me." Lando gave you a goofy grin. He moved his hand up, playing with a strand of your hair for a moment before tucking it behind you ear, "I could spend all night making up for lost time, and even then I guarantee I would be leaving wanting more."

You blushed, grateful again for the minimal lighting. Words lost you. Instead, you just gazed lovingly into Lando's eyes.

"Plus, Carlos told me to make sure you're home early, so..."

Lando relished in the way you rolled your eyes and chuckled softly.

The two of you always felt deep down that you had missed out on something great with each other. Now the universe was giving you a second chance to act on it.

yourusername posted

liked by yourbestfriend, iamrebeccad, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername 🌊🤙🖕

tagged: carlossainz55, iamrebeccad

view all comments

user1 not tagging lando is crazy 💀 girl we know

user2 shhhh let them cook up a soft launch user3 why would she tag him in this tho user1 that's literally lando's jolly lol

charles_leclerc hahaha the last photo

yourusername yeah that's actually me to carlos rn charles_leclerc never a dull moment with you two 😂😂

user2 her and lando used the same emoji. she posts his car but doesn't tag. he's in the likes. the soft launch of the century is about to begin. in this essay, I will-

user4 carlos in that pic is him reading these comments fr

user5 lando behind the camera of that first pic like 😍🤳

user1 we need y/n on lando.jpg stat

As you waited impatiently for Carlos to return home, your phone chimed, signaling another text had come through. You rolled your eyes, thinking it would be another message from Carlos, but you felt your heart skip a beat seeing Lando's name across your screen.

"Maybe Carlito thought you didn't like him, and was trying to help you out."

You stared at your sister's face on the screen in disbelief. "You're supposed to be on my side here."

Your sister laughed. "I am! I just also know Carlos wouldn't do something like this without a valid reason."

You heard a jingle at the door. "Speak of the devil, he's back."

"Call me later, don't give him a hard time, mana." She gave you a wave. "Oh, and have fun tomorrow night."

"I will, talk to you later." You gave your sister a wave back before ending the call.

You got up from your spot on the couch, walking towards the front door. You stood with your arms crossed as the door opened slowly. Suddenly Rebecca's head popped into view. You gave her a small smile.

"Your brother is behind me waving a white flag."

You couldn't help but laugh. "There shall be peace."

Carlos slowly came into view, his hands raised in defeat. He walked hesitantly towards you, waiting for you to react. Rebecca walked past you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before disappearing into the bedroom.

"I don't want to argue, mano. I just don't understand."

Carlos stared at you for a moment before leading you back to the couch, sitting down and signaling you to do the same. "Listen, back then, you were so young and I was supposed to be looking after you on the road," he started, "and I know how it is once you get to F1. The fame, media, parties..." he paused for a moment, "The girls." He waited a beat before saying, "That's why I'm telling you to be careful with him now."

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Lando and I used to have movie nights every race weekend while you and other drivers would go out to clubs and party." You looked down, nervously playing with your hands. "And yeah, I know he does go out now and that he's been seen with different girls, but I know deep down he's still that same guy."

"You guys were kids back then, but now? Lando is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave the club now, always a different girl on his arm."

You finally looked Carlos in the eye, whispering out, "So you think I'm just another girl for him to flaunt around until he gets bored?" You felt your face get hot due to a mix of anger and shame. "I'm not good enough to be something real for him?"

The regret was evident on Carlos' face the second after you spoke. "No, no, hermana, you know that's not what I mean."

"Then what is it? Is it because he's your friend?"

Carlos chuckled. "No, no," he sighed, "I knew you liked him back then. I saw how you looked at him. That dreamy, goofy gleam in your eyes," he said, "and when Lando came to me and said he wanted to ask you out, I panicked."

You were listening intently now. "Why?" you whispered out.

"I think it was the first time I realized you were growing up. The idea of my hermanita dating anyone, nevertheless a driver, freaked me out." He laughed. "I just wanted to protect you from the craziness that comes with being with an F1 driver; I still do."

"Lando said he respects you, and that's why he stayed away back then. But now we're adults, and we're making our own decisions without interference from others." You couldn't stop the smile from creeping back onto your face. "I've always liked him, mano. I want to see where this goes."

Carlos couldn't help but match your smile. He liked seeing you this happy, and if that was because of Lando, then he was willing to be open-minded. "Okay, okay, I'm on board," he chuckled, "but I told you already. If he breaks your heart, he goes into the wall."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You'd have to catch up to his rocketship in your tractor first."

Carlos' jaw dropped, disbelief written on his face. "I can't believe I've already lost you to the papaya army."

You let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, family always comes first. I'm a Ferrari girl first, papaya girlie second."

"Good, because that would be where I'd draw the line."

"I'm ready for next year, though. Blue is much more my color."

The two of you shared a laugh, before Carlos leaned over to end the moment with a hug. "I love you, hermanita."

"Love you too, Carlitos."

As you and Carlos embraced, you heard a door open slightly. Rebecca appeared, smile evident on her face, happy to see Carlos back in your good graces.

"Anyone down for a late night ice cream run?"

yourusername posted stories

story 2 caption: making them pay for my ice cream like: 🥺 👉👈 i'm just a baby

story replies to story 1:

user1 LANY/N ANTHEM???

user2 "we were supposed to be just friends" omg omg omg

yourbestfriend dude has my girl posting love songs on main already 😭😭😭

yourusername 😂

landonorris is this what they call a soft launch

yourusername 😂🫣 maybe landonorris hmm brb yourusername huh?

story replies to story 2:

yoursister hahaha he really said here have some ice cream pls forgive me

yourusername no but fr 💀

user3 girl you can't just post that song and move on this quickly!!

landonorris posted a story

story replies:

danielricciardo is little lando norris in love???

yourusername 🥹😭

landonorris ❤️

user1 oh ya'll are in LOVEEEE

user2 you guys ain't slick posting these back to back 😭

carlossainz55 thanks a lot, she won't stop playing this song now

oscarpiastri okay I DEFINITELY missed a chapter

a/n: yep there will be a part 3 because I can't stop myself lol if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!

tag list: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her

alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, migraine

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as it’s sent. 

Do you have any painkillers I could use?

You feel guilty for commandeering Sirius’ bedroom like this. You’re supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries you’d asked meekly if he’d mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so it’ll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know you’d feel better back at your own place, but you don’t trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead you’re spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now you’re asking him to wait on you, too. 

Sirius doesn’t respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open. 

“Just a nap, huh?” he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. “Does something hurt, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water he’s brought you. “Sorry. My head.” 

“I thought something might be wrong,” he admits, keeping his voice low. “You got awfully quiet earlier. Why didn’t you say?”

You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin our night.” 

Sirius tuts softly. “Don’t worry about that.” His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. “It’s quite bad?” 

You make a low humming sound. “It’s a migraine. I get them, sometimes.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully it’ll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I don’t think I can make it there right now.” 

“What sort of things?” 

You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom it’s not with food. 

You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon you’re aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing. 

“Did you get that from my place?” 

Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. “Fuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didn’t want to ask you to give me your key.” 

You look at the essential oil diffuser. “Huh. Looks just like mine.” 

“Well, good. Hopefully it’ll work just as well, then.” Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. “Do you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?” 

“M’not falling asleep anyway,” you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. “Tell me you didn’t go buy a diffuser?”

Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. “Not sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?”

“Sirius.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “You didn’t have to. That’s so sweet.” 

“Oh.” He brightens. “Good then. There’s a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought I’d give it a minute to chill first.” 

You’re starting to feel slightly teary, which isn’t really what you want during a migraine. “That’s really kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?” He smiles softly, looking like he’s going to reach for your face again before he stops himself. 

“You can touch me,” you say quietly. 

Sirius’ brows twitch together. “Yeah? Are you sure?” 

“Mhm. I feel a bit better than before.” 

“Could I kiss you as well?” 

You can’t stop your lips from curving, just a little. “Yeah.” 

Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesn’t stop there. “Better than before doesn’t seem quite well enough,” he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, “but we’ll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.” 

“Yeah?” you ask on a breath. “I’ve never tried that.” 

“Do you wanna?”

You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. It’s not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Sirius’ touch bleeds affection into your skin. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you mumble, words slurred with relaxation. 

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” he hums back. “I told you, I have the world’s loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?”

You’re too enamored to even scoff.