#let's all ignore first's mic

[khaotunq]

Seduction 101, according to Ayan: Step 38/?: Use your enforced time together to get to know him better.

[screampied]

GOVERNMENT HOOKER ?! — GOJO & GETO ☆

ᡴꪫ headline. what happens when you’re the popstar too? even better question: what happens when you show up to a show with no panties thanks to your band mates gojo and geto?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, thrēesomes, semi-public themes, unprotected, fucking backstage, praise, dirty talk, geto showing gojo how to touch you, cucking, hair pulling, double penetratıon, size kink, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), gojo gets cancelled (again)

an. ignore alejandro that chapter never happened hahakdlf

popstar!gojo mlist

“um hello. if i wanted to watch you two make out i’d watch corn or something.” gojo pouts, scowl and all. he watches as his other bandmate—geto, the star bassist shove his tongue down your throat. he was so jealous, maybe having intimate relations with your two mates wasn’t the best idea but who cares, right?

“porn not corn,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from geto to stare at the popstar. gojo had the biggest frown on his face, he wanted some too. besides, it was about an hour before the show would actually start and he was bored out of his skull. he couldn’t help but roam his eyes all down your attire, the bedazzled rhinestones that stuck against the fabric, your fishnets, the way they effortlessly stuck against your skin. “what?”

geto leans back with a desirable slouch, tangled knots of his hair falling against his broad shoulders before he hums. “oh, he’s jus’ jealous. he wants to kiss you too, princess,” and geto briefly unstraps his mic that was attached near his chin. “to be fair though, gojo doesn’t know the first step on pleasing women.”

“uh huh, and you do?” gojo glowers, purposely sitting right between the two of you. the both of you dramatically groan, the mood suddenly ruined from the spoiled popstar before he slings an arm around you. “h-hey, pretty.”

and his voice cracks— oops.

you giggle and it only makes gojo’s pout deepen. he mopes and you cup his face with a cheeky grin. “satoru, stop whining. if you wanted to touch me too, you could have just asked,” and with irises as azure as a blue day sky, they dilate. gojo melts from your touch alone, a thumb of yours strokes his left temple and his attention’s suddenly captivated. “do you want a kiss too?”

“y- yes,” he stammers, hearing geto snicker directly next to him. he glares, uttering a, “shut up,” and as his eyes focus back towards you, he subtlety glances at your foxy glossed lips that were cutely pursed. “i wanna kiss you, please..”

it was winsome in a way. out of all the times gojo kissed you, he acts like this was his first time. but in actuality,

he’s always been a bit addicted to you. you sort of came out of nowhere, he’s always been a well known popstar all around the world but with you, he’s had to share his spotlight. not that he ever really minded, gojo would always share if it was with you.

currently—the two of you were touring together, you weren’t as influential to the famed pop genre, but you had a bit of a fanbase yourself. you started about a year ago, gojo was a … secret fanboy of you back when the two of you first met. he heard your voice and knew he had to have you.

have as in, have you as an opener for one of his shows which then turned to many. and now, he’s on his highly anticipated world tour with you. die hard fans immediately wanted to know more about you as you started to make your mark in the industry.

whilst your lips gingerly press against gojo’s, he lets off a sweet harmonic moan.

you taste so sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s always had a craving for sweet things, you’ve just helped him indulge in it further.

a tongue of his runs against your bottom lip. he sucks on it succinctly, tasting the syrupy flavor of lip gloss that bedaubs over your lips. he deepens the kiss by a mile—gojo brings two hands toward your waist, two thumbs swiftly rubbing against your sides as each tongue rummages through and through. a smile compresses against your lips as you make out with him, sucking on his tongue and he whines for more.

“he’s gonna fall ‘n love at this rate,” geto titters, prying his best friend off. gojo pouts once the kiss devestatingly breaks. a slippery concoction-like string of spit wrests away from each lips as gojo exhales deeply. geto leans in to kiss underneath your neck before speaking in a perky purr. “hm, we’ve maybe got a good… what—” and the bassist glances at the watch that sticks to his wrist. “forty minutes left?”

“hey, don’t hog her,” gojo grumbles, and they’re both practically fighting over you. geto smugly grins, lowering his head towards your thighs to nip more near your cobweb-styled fishnets. you lie back against the sofa as the two both stare at you with such lust piercing into their eyes. “you’re so pretty,” he puffs, a thumb of his stroking against your chin.

“toru, c’mereee,” geto slyly says, ushering him with two moving fingers. gojo gets beside him and they’re both hovering over you. leaning back against the cushioned furniture—you sprawl your legs out a bit, tossing off your high inched stilettos. “feel how wet she is for me— eh, i mean us.”

you were a bit wet, profusely wet after making out with geto previously for so long.

with his hands meandering all down your body in the process, his knee goes between your thighs every few seconds. your laced panties were merely stuck together against your skin—gojo feels himself pant once he notices the little dampened spot near the middle of the cottony fabric. “hurry up though,” you stammer. “kento’s gonna kill us if we show up late for another show.”

kento nanami being gojo’s stern manager,

“i got you, princess,” geto hums, grabbing ahold of your wrist. gojo however was quite eager, desperate to run his fingers near your soaked entrance. “satoru, don’t drool over her now. have some manners.” he teases, showing him how to skim his fingers against your now exposed clit. your panties were now pulled to the side and you gnaw on your bottom lip to suppress a few of your incoming moans.

“shut up, s-suguu,” he scoffs, a thumb of his ghosting down your swollen slit. gojo’s already mesmerized, oh, you were sopping wet. it should be a crime to be this drenched. although— he’s a bit timid on what to do next. gojo leans right between your legs, planting a soft kiss near the inner crevice of your legs. “m-mmh.” he coos out, the scent of your arousal immensely pouring into his nostrils. you were so addictive, he barely even had a taste of you and he already wanted more.

“she’s pretty isn’t she,” geto whispers and as you look down, they’re both right between your thighs. greedy, you knew they’d probably share. geto playfully sinks his teeth into your thigh before he trails his face up. he creates a single licking trail against your folds and you moan. gojo watches, the direct spot he licks against was your sweetened clitoral hood. “get her wet, like this,” and his long black lashes close. the warmth of geto’s tongue already makes your back arch. he’s gentle yet precise—he slurps you for a few more moments before a stubby thumb of his prods inside of your pulsating clit. after a few quickened seconds he pulls away, furtively smiling at gojo. “can you do that orrr do i gotta hold your hand?”

“oh fuck you, man. i can eat pussy.” gojo glares, and their banter was always so entertaining to watch.

you giggle, seeing gojo’s annoyed frustration before the bassist gets up to stand. you glance up at him—he’s towering over you, immediately you lick your lips at the sight of his skin tight jeans.

oh, how they perfectly stuck against his skin, quite literally skin tight. he had such a big bulge already poking out, his zipper wouldn’t even zip fully. geto’s fly was proudly open, he hums to himself as he sees your eager hands paw against his pants. with a big hand grabbing onto the crown of your head, he cheeses. “hmm, you want a taste of somethin’ too, huh? need me to train those pretty vocal chords before the show?”

you nod, but his hand snakes its way to cup onto your chin. “words,” he purrs, a thumb peeling down your bottom lip. you moan once you feel gojo starting to lay his tongue flat against your cunt, relishing in your precious flavor. he’s already drooling over you, making you ten times more wet. gojo was gonna order something before performing—but eating you out was cheaper, and far more tasty than his original craving dish. “tell me what that throat wants, pretty.”

as you’re pursing your lips to speak, you moan at the way gojo’s right between your legs, teeth of his playfully gnawing near your thighs whilst he’s buried face full into you. “w- want your cock,” you mewl out with pretty polished eyes. geto’s jeans, the bulge was all pressed against your face— he yanks down his pants only to rub your face against the printed fabric. “suguru, need it.”

“fuck,” he grunts, feeling how you voluntarily roll out your own tongue, flicking it against the edges of his boxers. his bulge, it leaves you with a non-taste in your mouth, your legs start to quaver from gojo’s tongue. the popstar’s eating you out as if he’s haven’t had a good meal in years. he’s cutely moaning into your cunt, feeling the growing strain in beneath his briefs himself. geto delicately grabs a fistful of your hair before he raises a brow. “teeth, pull ‘em off with your teeth. we won’t use our hands today, baby.”

with a pout, you comply—leaning in, the pointed areas of your canines latch onto his underwear. its stretchy. you whine, reaching a hand down to touch yourself but gojo lightly smacks your hand.

“girl, ‘m eating.”

geto giggles, watching the pout on your face only squeeze against your expressions tighter. as you’re peeling his boxers down with your teeth, slowly, his thick cock springs out. it’s so big, and of course—gojo pauses to take a quick look himself. his jaw faintly drops at his best friend’s hefty size, and as he’s staring—geto catches him gawking before he sneers.

“oh, you’re lookin’ like you wanna suck me off too, satoru,” and he hums once he feels your tongue lick against his leaky base. “don’t be ungrateful, popstar. your meal’s right in front of you.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, feeling a sudden wave of heat wash against the entirety of his face. gojo goes back to sliding his tongue against your sensitive nub, listening to your sweet whimpers. you’re barely able to hold still. in the background, all that could be heard was the clamorous sounds of chants and screams—the audience, awaiting for their beloved satoru gojo who was currently occupying his own vocals between your thighs. he was never once to complain, the softly padded cartilage part of his nose swipes against your folds and your tummy zealously caves in. he licks you in all the right spots, licks that gradually turn into deep, sloppy sucks. “m-mhm, so sweet.”

“heyy,” geto whispers, craning your head to stare back up at him. as you’re met with the thickness of his shaft standing tall right in front of your face, you lean in to kiss the very tip of his frenulum. he groans, the outer parts of his abs clenching in pleasure. he couldn’t wait to feel the very inside of your throat, the tightness, the sheer warmth. with your tongue exploring everywhere—every specific spot, tracing the outline of his size, you whine.

with plump, spit-glossed lips—you dangle your jaw down a bit, preparing to take him inside. “good girl. no slobbin’ on it, okay? you don’t wanna be a messy girl this time, do ya? not before a big show, yeah?”

you reply with a subtle head nod, your sweet lips happily opening around his ample fat cockhead.

“yeah? you want me to really throat train you, that bad huh. warm up that pretty diaphragm?” geto sighs, his darkened arch brows lowering once you start to slowly sink your throat down onto his excited length. geto’s barely a few inches in and you feel a sudden pulse race down his dick.

so cute, geto keeps his eyes on you the entire time—occasionally, his eyes detour from you to gojo. he was already lost in your pussy as if it was a maze he’d never escape from. gojo’s all underneath you as you sit over him on all fours. his tongue had already located everywhere—his tongue making its metaphorical mark in every secluded area inside of your wet folds.

you were melting, muffled moans started to spew out of your mouth from gojo’s tongue and the sudden bitter taste of geto’s pre-cum.

sweet, yet bitter..

three perfect words to describe geto’s taste— it lives on your tongue for a long time before you start to lower your mouth down on him. it’s a tight fit at first, you can already feel a few sloppy remnants of your own saliva trickle down the sides of your lips. “ah,” you gasp out, grazing the tip of your tongue over the fat crown of his dick. a taste you wanted to always savor. you moan, feeling geto sneak a hand down to pry a bit more between your already openly exposed legs. he’s almost all the way down your throat before you start to suck him off. he’s so thick that you merely gag from the first few thwacks his tip makes against the roof of your mouth.

“wider for me. lay out that tongue, yeah,” and a thumb of his traces against the curvature of your lips. you can’t help the drool that’s starting to trickle down near the very corners of your mouth. you whine, feeling that pang of a throb welt within your folds from gojo’s slurping. he was in fact, a messy eater. he couldn’t help it, especially with how sugary you taste for him, the more his tongue traverses throughout every part of your walls, the more he craves for more. he yearns for more of your taste. gojo prods two fingers against your slit before running them down, whining himself from his poking boner that’s grinding against the sofa. geto pulls his dick out to smear his dripping tip onto your lips—only to then shove it back in. you breathe through your nose before you start to suck again. timelessly, geto’s hitting against the back of your throat with ease.

gojo’s tongue already has you feeling a sense of numbness in your toes, wiggling it was little to no use. you eagerly wanted to touch yourself but each time you’d even attempt, he grabs your wrist so you won’t distract him from his meal.

gojo was dead set on making you make a mess on his tongue. “m-mph,” you’d gasp out in a muffled manner, geto’s firm grip on your hair makes your eyes merely roll into its backing depths of your cranium.

the bassist gives you a sweet head pat, shoving you all the way in before pulling you out, your nose tickles against the curled black pubic hairs that glue against his skin and he grunts. the perfect throat for a singer. after this, he was sure you’d be hitting high soprano notes like his loser best friend of a popstar in no time.

in which you were though, as you’re still perfectly on all fours with your mouth occupied and gojo directly propped underneath you, eating out your cunt like a starved man. you gasp, a sudden feeling of agitation leaking into your arousal.

it was approaching,

with the abrupt twitch of geto’s brows, he was coming the same time you were. “s-shittt,” he swallows, the ball stuffed in his throat, known as the adam’s apple. it occasionally shifts inside of his neck continues to move as he lets off guttural moans. with the way your tongue teasingly glides across his sensitive slit, he’s steadily preparing to shoot such a whopping load down your throat. “good girl, gonna make me cum, gonna make me c-cum with that pretty tight throat, yeah.”

geto’s low voice judders a bit, he’s that close that he almost starts to spasm.

with a concise bite on his lip, stopping himself from drawing blood—he leers down at you, a thumb of his stroking your lip. you were a mess, amounts of your own drool seeping down the corners of your lips before he wipes it away. “c’monnn, cum with me pretty, make a mess on that loser’s tongue for me.”

“fuck you s-suguru.” gojo grumbles, the rapid tempo of his tongue having you start to feel all kinds of pleasurable feelings. your legs had already gave out. two hands of gojo’s grip against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before you clench against his mouth. whilst gojo’s goading at you with his tongue, again—geto’s cock reaches all the way to the roof of your throat. your tongue dances against the prodding veins that coats his dick once more before within seconds, he shoots out.

he’s still got a hand cupped over your head. the leather of his glove on his right hand tugs against the hairs of your scalp as he’s emptying a gooey volume down your tongue. “ugh, ‘s it. so much i’ve been savin’ so much for you,” he pants, lengthy strands of his hair continuing to block his view of vision in his face. as geto’s abs tenses, the minute you taste the viscous spurts of his bitterly sweet cum, it slowly starts to drizzle in your mouth.

it pours down your throat like the niagara— not even seconds later and you finish also, body twitching and overcoming with the hypnotic feelings of ectacsy and fucking salaciously lewd nirvana,

as you rut your hips against gojo’s face a few more times, he grips your hips whilst you come undone. he groans, the tent in his pants practically poking through his designer ‘toru briefs that costs well over four hundred dollars. but leave it to the popstar to spend his money on pretty boxers, blue too, his favorite color.

geto inhales a single breath, nostrils flaring all up before he wraps a hand around his length—finally pulling it out of your mouth.

he had a sheepish grin while he stares at you being laid back against the couch, slouching, and that’s when he huffs, a thumb poking your cheek to open it. “l-let’s see that tongue,” and he rubs his swollen tip against the edges of your tremoring lips. you swallowed, lolling out your pink, needy tongue and gojo sits up to see also. he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealously, he wanted your attention. “mhm, good girl. nice ‘n clean, swallowed it all ‘n didn’t waste a drop,” and his eyes peer towards gojo who had a cute scowl on his lips. ah, he was already starting to feel left out. “satoru, kiss her.”

“uh? don’t tell me what to do, i was gonna do that anyway,” he pouts, his pretty eyes rolling back.

such sass, geto snickers at him before he kneels down to bring you up close to him. gojo cups your face, inching his wet lips toward you before he presses his own against yours. you moan, feeling the popstar’s hands wander through your dazzled blouse. with the taste of yourself still residing on his tongue, you grow addicted immediately.

a hand of his ghosts around the back of your neck, pulling you close and another hand of his ghosts between your spread open thighs. “grind against me, y-yeah, fuck,” he whines, feeling you already rub against his body. gojo’s a sloppy kisser too. the moment his tongue delves into yours, tangling with your own, he starts to feel volumes of his saliva dribble out from his mouth.

messy, a perfect way to describe the popstar. he’s had plenty of action throughout his life— it usually comes with the fame, but he’s never felt like this with someone like you.

sure, this was probably all counts of unprofessionalism but he didn’t care. you didn’t care either. geto, well … he was just geto.

“princess, keep grindin’ against him like that ‘n you’re gonna make him cum through his sweats,” geto chortles, pulling you off of him to press his own lips against you. gojo grumbles, watching his two band mates make out — oh, it was just something about your taste that made them both so drawn to you. they were driven to your lips, to your taste, to you in general. like moths to a flame. geto’s kisses were more passionate and sincere, he wraps a hand around your neck gently, a thumb caressing the passageway of your throat whilst he starts to suck against your tongue. with lips crashing amongst each other, he parts your legs open just a bit more before he departs away. “can never get enough,” and he hums to his best friend with a wry grin. “satoru, aw. what? are ya mad at me?”

“i was kissing her, man.”

“more like swallowing her face whole, come on baby-”

as they continue to bicker right in front of you, gojo leans back against the couch and geto props up directly behind you. he yanks down his sweats from last minute rehearsal and you hover over him in preparation to straddle him.

“satoru, you’re pouting.” you point out, cupping his face. indeed he was, cute pink bottom lip sticking out and he’s about to melt at how hot you look on top of him.

“it’s because he’s gonna live up to his other stage name as a two pump champ.” geto yawns,

gojo glares, desperately wishing to wipe that sly smirk off of geto’s face. then again he wasn’t exactly lying. the popstar’s known for a lot of things but most importantly—he was known for being the two pump champ, how he could barely last a few solid minutes inside of a girl before he completely spazzes out, finishing prematurely.

that only happened sometimes,

according to gojo.

“i’ll fuck you,” gojo bleats.

“what?” geto smirks.

“i said fuck you.” gojo corrects himself, barely even comprehended what he said the first time.

“yeah? maybe later.”

“stop flirting,” you roll your eyes, lifting yourself a bit on top of gojo. feeling geto’s hands suddenly cling onto your waist, you let out a soft murmur. “can i take you both?”

in a hoarse whisper, geto sneaks a few kisses against your collarbone. “are you asking, princess?” and his touch alone sends you a plethora of shivers everywhere. you lean back against his chest, still straddling gojo before biting your lip—replying with a subtle nod. “ah, ‘toru she wants to take us both. got enough energy for that?”

he shoots him daggers and the bassist only grins.

“f-fuck, jus’ . . hurry up. ‘m fuckin’ hard,” he swallows, his own fingertips brushing against the very curvature of your rocking hips.

white strands of his hair practically binding against his forehead. he’s undoubtedly hard, feeling his breathing slow down a bit as he looks down. your wet cunt was all swollen and preparing to be destroyed by them both. you weren’t even sure if you could take them both at the same time time—but where there’s a will, there’s a way,

you were far too pent up to even think about tonight’s show. your throbbing only increases before you get a hold of gojo’s length. he’s more thin with a lot of inches while geto’s more thick and bulky. just picturing the mere image of them both stuffing you full has your panties in a twist. speaking of panties— they were still leisurely pulled to the side of you, not bothering to take them off fully.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” gojo mewls out, his voice sounds more like a whine than anything. it was a contest between the both of you though — who was the most louder. gojo satoru or your pussy, he couldn’t help it. his whines only continue to ring across the small, claustrophobic room the further you take them both. “that’s it, yeah. jus’ keep those pretty eyes down h-here.”

a shaky breath cuts out from gojo’s lips as you feel him start to gradually sink inside of your cunt.

you moan almost immediately, holding onto his thighs whilst geto’s right behind you, following the same. you’re straddling gojo and taking him from the front and also taking geto from behind. the entirety of your pussy was lukewarm, it makes gojo already start to spasm—a familiar candied texture lingers in his mouth, his saliva that trickles inside before he can eventually swallows. you’re so tight at first, the grip you have against them both does wonders..

if it was anything though, gojo would take pussy over publicity any day.

you felt way too good. it doesn’t take them long before they both start to bottom out inside of you. geto nips a few kisses near the outer areas of your collarbone—he could never get enough of your taste, both of them couldn’t.

you were sweet like candy, gojo always did have a sweet tooth after all. as they’re both easing their ways inside of your slick entrances, you slump back against geto’s chest. “fuck, ‘s right. nice ‘n slow baby. takin’ us both so well.”

the stretch was purely appetizing—your cunt instinctively squeezes down against them, clamping.

as you start to jerk your hips forward with them being all the way in, you feel geto’s hands slither its way inside of your dazzled blouse. near the very skirts of the fabric, he fondles against your neglected breasts, giving them a nice firm grab. the tips of his soft padded thumbs strum against your nipples and you whine. “f-fuck,” you moan out, your hips rutting against them both in harmony—in perfect sync. even the sofa’s producing a tune of its own with the constant repetitive creaking. with geto’s hands still roaming against your body, it trails down to your chest and near your tummy. he cunningly grins once he feels the written lines of his signature displayed on your body. his signature—earlier, you’d ask him to write his name on you and he was more than happy to oblige. the musk of the strong scented sharpie wafts through the air, his fingers slew against the neatly written words that spelled out ‘suguru’s favorite’ in bold.

as you’re riding gojo, he takes a peek himself at your exposed abdomen and he grunts under his breath. “fucker.”

“someone mad?” geto fake pouts, poking fun at his best friend and that only gifts him a glare.

you continue to grind your hips against them, feeling gojo’s touch gently caress the lower parts of your body. the blaring roaring chants outside of the room near the arena only gets louder. like most of his shows, it was pretty packed. gojo’s always getting sold out shows of around thousands of people just to see him perform live.

but oh, did his precious little fangirls hate your guts.

they didn’t just hate you, they loathed you.

they loathed how you just randomly came into the picture, how you came out of nowhere and started opening up shows for him. everyone always wanted in on the scoop though. who were you and just why was gojo so obsessed?

where there’s gojo’s intimidating length—there’s geto’s deliciously fat girth. you couldn’t pick out just who was stuffing you deeper, you felt everything all at once. you’re unwaveringly moving your hips against them both and your cunt’s squelching out such pleasurable symphonies. “ugh,” gojo groans, dragging your hips back and forth against him with his hands. you’re so pretty like this, the view he’s got of you just riding him makes his dick twitch inside of you. you’ve never felt so full, with both guys already bottomed out—you almost struggle to barrel in both lengths at first. “k-keep ridin’ me like this ‘n i’m gonna cummm.”

you’re working your hips against them both—geto still has his hands attached to your chest, gently seeping his teeth into the juncture of your neck. his tongue was so warm, he flicks his moving muscle against the piercing marks he’s left you on your collarbone.

so sweet..

with each hole, it’s both getting its fair share of fullness and every flavorsome inch you’re taking your mouth watering. it salivates quickly and not before long—you feel yourself convulsing from each of them. you feel a palpitating pang surge underneath your thighs as you bounce against them both. the couch suddenly shrieks in unexpected dismay at the piles of weight slamming against the furniture each second.

“relax, easy easy,” geto purrs against you, licking near the outer shell of your ear. you moan, his hands starting to feel elsewhere before he rubs a few circles against your folds. you gasp, your body jolting in response. the stimulation was almost too much to bare—too good, combining both shafts, you felt the fullest one could ever be.

within seconds, they’re both buried to the hilt.

you pierce your teeth into your bottom lip before you start to rock. gojo stares at your body—the cute halfway pulled up blouse that was shimmering in the light. once all pretty and neat, now wrinkled and practically ripped to shreds all thanks to the tight grips of the two stars. gojo loudly whines, a hand of his sticking to your hips like velcro before he starts to yoke your hips further into him. “goddamn, s-so warm, jus’ askin’ to be stretched by us both, fuck ‘m not gonna last.”

“like i said, two pump champ.” geto whispers, broad hands of his own clinging to your backside.

his best friend gives him nothing more but a glower again as you’re taking both of them from each hole. the stretch lasts for a good while, your gummy textured walls squeezes against them before you feel a sudden coil burst. so good, the way your hips roll and throw back against them was so hot. the recoil—geto’s personal favorite part. he loves to give your ass spanks as you continue to jerk and jostle against them both. bodies on bodies on bodies—gojo grunts lowly as he brings a hand to play with your ignored tits. a thumb of his grazes against your unclamped bra that was just barely shielding your soft plump mounds.

“f-fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips repeatedly, the chants from the area only grows louder until it’s a deafening roar. time was merely up but you could care less. the hot warmth of geto’s breath brushes against your skin as he slides his tongue against your neck. he loved to dig his pearly whites into the depths of your skin, giving you a playful nibble. he does all that only to kiss against the new marks that print into your skin. he wants more of you. “s-stretchin’ me out s’good.”

as you’re being mushed with them both — your breaths start to become more heavy and irregular.

wet, your cunt sloshes and sloshes from each movement and it’s so lewd. you’re jerking back and forth until the sofa’s squeaking out pretty melodic moans of itself. you’re sopping wet, you reach down to touch yourself and geto grabs your wrist. “nuh uh,” he coos against your ear. “this pussy’s for my hands only, baby.”

“and mine..” gojo pouts.

“yeah, no,” geto chimes, hearing your cute grumble before he touches your swollen cunt for you. “mmm, such a wet girl. can’t believe you were really gonna perform with a pussy this soaked. my my.”

gojo’s losing it underneath you—his face flushes before he’s dragging you quicker and quicker against him. sharp exhales leave from his lips and it’s not before long that you and him were both getting close—geto shortly following too. it only takes about a good few minutes before that familiar pool stirs into the deep abyss of your obscene heat. you felt a good parcel of nerves trigger all over you’re body and you can’t stay still. with your mouth hanging open, geto’s continuing to rub circles against your throbbing clit.

“c-cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper pathetically, feeling the honed edge of his hips strike into you at a more hasty tempo. geto can’t keep his hands off you, they both can’t keep their hands off of you.

the minute you feel the fat head of gojo’s dick broach against that particular spot. you’re seeing all types of unnamed stars in your blurred vision.

it’s here, you’re long awaited orgasm—almost, it’s at the very tip of your tongue again, the very edge.

with the way your pussy’s responding to them both, you’re dripping like a spigot — not even caring that you’re coating each of their dicks with your saturated juices. “make a mess baby,” geto whispers, a hand wrapping around your throat as your ass pressed up against him. “cum on our dicks, yeah. ride satoru ‘till he fuckin’ whines.”

the pace only quickens—gojo lies back with his head already thrown back in defeat. “i’m gonna fuckin’ die,” he whimpers, his pulsing dick at its very peak. it feels so good for him that it almost hurts. gojo spanks your ass a few times for encouragement, feeling the tightness of his jaw clench down before he feels you wring around his crazed shaft. “h-hah, that would make a good track title. ‘m gonna fuckin’ dieeee.”

“s-shut up.” you moan, slinging your arms around the popstar. one glance at him and he’s already pussy drunk.

rightfully, you lean in to kiss him as you finally cum. as expected his tongue parts inside of you sloppily, masses of his famous saliva cascades down the sides. he was nothing but a mess for you. as you’re slowing your hips down, both of them approach their own individual releases. gojo’s hands run everywhere on your body, you shudder from his touch whilst you feel geto’s hips piston itself forward. your toes grow limp as you’re finally becoming undone—gojo follows as they’re both driving the thickness of their cocks into your slick, needy entrances.

as your legs lie flat, the both of them end up finishing at the same time. it’s so much, you’re feeling yourself get dumped and it’s already starting to overflow. gojo’s filling you from the front and geto’s taking care of you from behind. “easy, rock against him like that, yeah,” he hushes you, easing his thumbs against your hips in tiny little circles to calm you down. it’s trickling into you in such a slow way, gooey velvety portions of cum oozing its way into your pussy. it’s loud too, squelch after squelch reverberating throughout the entire room that it develops its own vibrato..

“touch her, ‘toru,” geto continues, latching his tongue against the miniature bite marks that press near your neck. the popstar was worn out despite it being just a few minutes. with heaving pants departing from his lips, he brings his hands to feel against your waist, your breasts, and back down between your legs. “she did so good for us,” and he kissed the top of your head, speaking in a rasp. “gonna perform with all this this cum stuffed inside, baby?”

“y- yeah,” you whine, feeling geto abruptly pull out to where you’re just bestriding gojo now. you take a quick glance down and your panties weren’t there anymore. you sigh, you really liked those. back to gojo—his dick that was still twitching inside of you grows flaccid and he whimpers at the faint jittery motion of your hips. “fuck, we don’t have to perform. can’t satoru just cancel the show?”

“and get dragged on twitter? heh, girl no..” gojo swipes a hand across his forehead as he’s still spilling such amounts inside of you. it’s a mess, the once flashy white sofa was all ruined with nothing but a salacious mixture of soaked liquids.

speaking of though,

as gojo’s catching his final breaths with you still hovering over him, he pulls out his phone. his sheepish smile turns into a look of horror once he opens tmz. skimming his eyes against the blue-lit screen, his lip tremors as he reads the bold red and black text. “famous popstar satoru gojo, bassist suguru geto and new opening singer heard screwing … backstage?”

geto deadpans and you furrow your eyebrows, getting off of him. “how?”

“idiot still has his fuckin’ mic on.”

gojo’s eyes widen as he stares in his peripherals at his mic. not again, and indeed it was very much on and operated. you could hear the echo grow louder from the arena just a few feet down now that it was against his lips. then it hits you, the ongoing chants from outside weren’t happening anymore. now, it was just pure booing. he uses two fingers to bring his mic up to the side of his mouth before switching it to autotune. “oops. no refunds….?”

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS INCOMING…

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

[goldfades]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[cherryredcheol]

"ducky"

tldr: all the way joshua uses your nickname a/n: i like this one (⸝⸝๑ ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝)

whispers: when he’s trying to gossip 

“ducky” you barely hear him over the music inside the venue, party in full swing around you. you are watching the dance floor, amused by watching your friends act like fools, but you can never ignore him; so you turn around to face him, confused as to why he’s speaking so softly in such a loud place. when your eyes meet, he smiles at you, full of love. only when you raise an eyebrow does he remember why he came up to you in the first place. 

“he’s is sleeping with her best friend. i just found out.” he continues to whisper, despite the music being almost deafening. your eyes widen to saucers, unbelieving that he actually got confirmation of a rumor that had been floating around about some friend of a friend’s sleazy boyfriend. you’re about to ask how he found out when–

“in fact: he's sleeping with her roommate too.” your mouth gapes, this was not something you’d heard before. You can always count on him to tell you the good tea. when people told him not to tell anyone, it never included you. he told you everything. “what do you think about that, ducky?”

shouts in the mic: across an empty stadium 

“everybody, welcome to the stage: ducky!” the venue was empty of any carat, thank god. you only wanted to visit him at the venue before caratland the next day, knowing this would be your only opportunity to be up on the stage with him. he’d been asking you to come by so he could show you what it felt like. he wanted to show you the lights and let you experience this part of his life. 

“don’t be shy now, you were excited about this!” he teased, without the mic, when you reached him on the large stage. your eyes widened when you looked out over the stadium. the sheer number of seats was so intimidating, and to think of the seats filled with bodies was incomprehensible. 

“here, hold the mic.” he passed you the white, bedazzled mic. it was heavier than you expected. you could see your arm getting tired holding this thing to your mouth for too long. you looked over at him, unsure of what to do next. he raised a brow at you, gesturing for you to, “sing something for me, ducky.”

echoes: just to see you blush

“ducky, ducky, ducky!”  he was so happy to see you walk through the door of seungcheol’s apartment. they had all been waiting for you to start the movie queued up on the screen, at his insistence. you loved movie night with his fellow 95s and he knew you’d like the movie they’d picked to watch. 

“how was your day, ducky?” he got up from the couch to greet you properly, overusing the cute petname just to see you flush, knowing it made you embarrassed around his members. he lived to tease you, to see your coloring change, and the little crease between your eyebrows appears. he loves it. 

“oh, ducky, i hope it was good.” he wraps his arms around you in a hug, clinging tightly. he hated being apart from you, even if it was just for your shift at work. movie night was always something he looked forward to, all his favorite people in one place. he leans to whisper in your ear, “i’m so happy to see you, ducky.”

garbles: after too many shots

“ducky” he slurs, the music in the bar so loud you can barely hear him. you’re chatting with mingyu, but you feel him tug on your shirt sleeve. you excuse yourself from your conversation and turn to see him, eyes droopy and a dopey smile on his face. you’d been apart for about 20 minutes and you knew he’d come back to you all gooey and lovey. 

“come home with me. i’ll call the car.” he was glued to your side, arm around your waist, head buried in your neck. you could’ve stayed out a little longer but he wanted to leave and he was being so sweet, how could you tell him no? agreeing to leave and go home with him, his face lit up. he whipped his phone out of his pocket.

“will you order the car? i don’t think i can see straight.” he held his phone out to you, confident you could do this for him. his only focus in this moment was getting even closer to you he looked like he was about to fall asleep, eyes closed, head on your shoulder. he turned his head, pressing s gentle kiss to your shoulder, “thank you, ducky.”

sing-songs: when he gets home

“ducky~” he called out to you, knowing his voice would carry through the apartment. and sure enough, moments later he heard your quick steps across the floors, hurrying your way to him. he took a moment to pry his shoes off, not wanting to track any dirt inside. he was so preoccupied, he didn’t notice your steps had stopped. standing up from his bent position, he jumped slightly, finally seeing you, a smile stretching across his face after the initial scare.

“i missed you.” he reaches out to you, wanting to hold you in his arms after a few weeks apart. he loved his job, but leaving you behind was like a knife in the heart every time. this tour was fun but he longed for you the entire time he was gone. he held back some tears as he stood with you in the entryway to your apartment, rocking gently back and forth. 

“i am so happy to be home with you.” you could tell he meant it, hear the emotion in his voice. he rocks you a little longer and holds you a little tighter, not wanting the moment to end, to be separated again. you respond in kind, tightening your arms around his waist, burring your face deeper into his chest. “next time you’re coming with me, ducky.” 

[chiscaralight]

cockwarming streamer scara while he streams 😔‼️

nsfw streamer!scara x reader it’s not long sawry

definitelt his idea, definitely the first one to get too worked up. he’ll have you facing away from the camera, face resting in the crook of your neck while you try to just sleep it off. you’ll have to bite down when he gives you an occasional hard thrust, but he’s covering his noises with a cough or yelling through the mic with the faintest crack of his voice when you start to move. he’s ignoring all the comments about the person IN HIS LAP??? telling chat to mind their business. if you wanted to be clingy, he’d let you. you’re his partner anyway, what concern is it to them?

and there’s a lot of donations coming in, trying to get him to show your face or let you speak, but he’s having none of it. he starts ignoring them entirely, but a particularly loud 50 gifted catches him so off guard his entire body is jumping. guess who suffers the most? you. because he’s nudging the deepest parts of you with that accidental thrust and you can barely catch the moan before it’s flying out. he doesn’t care if you’re loud to be honest, he’d much rather have his stream know how good he can fuck you. the streaming platform he’s using might not though, so he’ll save his dreams of fucking you stupid on streams for the late nights you don’t sleep over.

and once that stream is cut? he’s pushing his keyboard and pounding you into the table! what, you thought you could get away with all the teasing you did? it doesn’t matter if he teased you much more, he’s the one in control here! otherwise you would be the one bending him over the table, having him whine out your name. too bad that’s not the case though, because he’s going to milk that cunt dry with orgasms until your slick is pooling at the ground under you.

[squinch-depraved]

based on a dream i had where ted finds footage of you and schlatt doin some stuff 😔

chuckle week is just a convenient excuse to be all together i'm sorry i write it so much :(

ted tossed his phone down onto his desk with a heavy sigh, finally giving in and sitting down to begin rifling through the hours of footage from chuckle week. something had come up and a last minute text from schlatt, of all people, saying he was going to have to be the one to edit it pulled him from his hazy afternoon of trying to sleep so that he didn't notice how empty his apartment was now that his best friends had left him there all alone. the quiet had seeped under his skin, which was so desperately missing your soft touch and schlatt's rougher one. he shook off the lingering unease and tried to immerse himself in reliving the memories of his great week as he slipped on his headphones and began editing.

hours crept by as he sat at the desk, leg tapping endlessly in an attempt to get some energy out of his system. he had just finished editing the first episode when he noticed it. everybody went to lunch after filming that one, he remembered because he went out with tucker and emma and was a bit sad the two of you didn't want to come with to the rainforest cafe. but here was footage with audio from that lunch break, about 2 hours captured from one camera and a mic left running. he skimmed through it, letting out a puff of air through his nostrils when he realized it was just a view of the empty booth everyone sits in for the podcast. about a third of the way through, though, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when schlatt and you stumble into view, tangled together in a mess of limbs holding limbs and warm kisses. schlatt slotted himself into the booth and coaxed you into his lap, immediately resuming the sloppy make out session. he groaned, gripping your hips tightly when you ground yourself down onto his clothed lap.

ted felt many things in those seconds where he discovered the footage. disbelief, at first, faded into feeling disrespected. after all, this podcast was his baby, and the two of you doing what you were about to do on that set while ignoring him for lunch pissed him off greatly. but anger faded to arousal the longer he watched you bite at schlatt's neck, and he smiled when the man swatted you away so he could touch you instead. ted sucked a breath in when he started rubbing circles into your crotch under your skirt. he started undoing his pants when you reared your head back and by the time your pornstar quality moan had echoed through the studio, he had eagerly spit into his hand and was stroking himself slowly. a deep groan tore itself from his lips as he began to buck his hips up into his fist, eyes trained on his monitor watching you kiss schlatt.

when he pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly. "we gotta hurry, doll, i don't know how long we have 'til someone gets back," he breathed, just loud enough for ted to hear. his friend's voice stole another moan from his lips as he continued to pump his cock. his eyes screwed shut for a moment, and he thought about the numerous filthy things he would do if you two were there with him before he snapped them back open to see schlatt sliding his thick shaft out of his sweatpants, precum leaking from the tip. you grinned and (not-so) gracefully slid yourself under the table to take him in your mouth, leaving only schlatt in view as erotic noises spilled from his lips. after a second, he focuses his dark, lust filled eyes on the camera and nods down at you, as if acknowledging that someone would be watching this.

a guttural grunt tore from ted's throat as he thrusted upwards recklessly, gripping his long, weeping cock like he had never needed something so bad in his entire life. he rolled his eyes upwards and lost himself for a bit again before focusing back in to find schlatt helping you back up and positioning you over his member before sliding his hands under your skirt and sliding your underwear to the side. you yelped as his thick fingers slid in you easily, and he pumped one, then two in and out for a bit, drawing melodic moans from you before he withdrew them and slipped them directly in his mouth. ted and you made a similar face- he wished he could taste you. he blinked again and you were getting impaled on schlatt's lap, nothing visible under the skirt except when one of you moved too vigorously and it flew up, exposing only flashes of where you interlocked.

ted whined, feeling himself getting close, and furrowed his brows together. he leaned back in his desk chair, almost panting, and continued to stare at you masterfully working your hips, grinding and bouncing so well both schlatt and him were lost in it. the man lucky enough to be feeling you smacked your ass, earning a sharp whimper. "c'mon, toots, getting close," he mumbled. "did so good suckin' me off, doesn't take much from this pretty pussy to do it for me." his hands disappeared under the skirt and ted could only imagine his fingers working deftly, tracing figure eights on your sensitive nub.

you began to ride him more frantically, whorish noises poured from your tongue and dared to expose the two of you to anyone who may have come near. you came first, arched your back in a way that left ted rapidly approaching his high. he bucked and rutted his hips into the air, desperate for any contact from the two people he needed most. a pathetic, gasping mess, he came all over his stomach, and watched through lidded eyes as schlatt finished in you and kissed you before sending you to go clean yourself up while he cleaned up the mess you two made. ordinarily he would never make you take care of yourself, but he didn't know how much time you had, so this was how it had to be. once you were presumably out of earshot, schlatt looked at the camera again and grinned.

"hope you enjoyed, ted," he said, adjusting his sweatpants and walking over to turn the camera off.

ted blinked hazily and couldn't help but smile.

[doromoni]

Take my Advice | MV1

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Driver! Reader

Genre : Fluff

A/N : As per y’all request. A Max fic *tadaaaa*

Summary : Being a female driver in Formula 1 is already an achievement and now you are the leading candidate for the Red Bull seat. But Max Verstappen has some advice.

Masterlist

A question for Y/N please” A reporter stood with a mic in hand, staring you down — the condescension in his eyes was palpable. You could feel your skin crawl as you waited for the man’s question.

Darry? Larry? what was his name again? He was a reporter notorious for asking rude and borderline unethical questions to drivers. How did he continue to have access to F1, you could not answer. You were his favorite target just because you were born with the XX chromosome or that you were too glamorous and girly to be driving at the pinnacle of motorsport — his words exactly.

“People are speculating that you would be moving to Red Bull in 2025 or even earlier, however, you just placed P10 in the last race. How confident are you that you’d be promoted to that seat given your lack of consistency in driving so far? Shouldn’t you think Daniel Ricciardo’s a better option? ”

Barry? Sally? whatever his name was finished talking, yet his sticky gaze never left you.

The smile on your face slowly hardened as you tried to keep your cool. You felt your veins pulsate with rage and your jaw clenched with force. Your hand gripping the microphone that you held till it felt like snapping in half.

Everyone was speechless, including the other drivers that were with you. The people who were seated beside you had their mouths agape. The driver lineup was composed of You, Oscar, Lewis, and Nando, with Alex and Max by your side. Everyone could feel the intense tension in the air. The absolute ignorance and stupidity of his statement hung in on the air…

You were dominating the midfield given the car that RB had given you. You garnered points for your team consistently — only fucking up when your team fucked up their strategies. You were outperforming your teammate by miles and you were pulling miracles out of nothing in that car and in that team.

“Well Danny is a very talented driver and I respect him immensely. I truly do wish the best for him and the team, but it’s not my job to compare stats between us, no?“ You answered with a smile and nothing but praises left your mouth.

Mama said kindness and peace are what make life go around. You lived by this every single day of your life, no matter how difficult it may seem — a smile goes a long way. You chose to make peace and give way to others when opportunities presented itself. Rather catch flies with honey than vinegar right?

You were since then dubbed as the sunshine of Formula 1 — a title that you didn’t want … because it was another thing that you stole from Danny, at least that's what others think. Even when your path to your F1 seat had never been easy, every step you took was criticized just because of you being a girl, but you persevered and faced everything head-on. Through the midst of it all, you, Y/N L/N, were the driver who held smiles, kindness and cheers.

Y/N L/N the driver to always take the blow for the team, the scapegoat, you were always the 1st one to be the sacrifice. But still, you held your head up high and carried on… because it was an honor to have a seat in the first place.

“Let me just get some things straight” Lewis had taken to himself to talk seeing that Gary? Donny? seemed not willing to back down with the intent to make you react.

“Y/N has been nothing but consistent. Look at the charts properly” Lewis argued, his face holding concealed anger as he stared down the reporter

“Thank you for that Lewis, but I did check — Y/N has placed P5, P8, and P10 for the last consecutive races” The entire couch of drivers could only shake their heads in disbelief at the utter nonsense that the man continued to spout

You were driving a car that was projected to be at the back of the grid, yet here you are gaining points regularly. No offense to your teammate but you were dragging Danny through the mud — heck fellow drivers could bet their entire fortune that given a better car, you would be battling Max and Lando for the championship.

“Check again. Check your eyes too mate, cause it seems like you’re going blind” Gaps and oohs filled the room as Max, much to your surprise, butted with all seriousness in his voice.

Max was an enigma to you, the way he switches from a fire-breathing beast on the track to a literal cat-cuddling, sim-racing nerd and overall wholesome person once he finishes a race compelled you to explore and dig into the mind of Max Emilian Verstappen.

Yet you couldn’t because he was untouchable. The golden boy of Red Bull, the champion, their number 1. They would kill you if you got your business entangled with the Dutch driver. Fuck with him and you could kiss your chances at a seat in Red Bull goodbye. Unfortunately for you, you just had to have a big fat crush on the very same driver.

You weren’t even sure when your admiration for Max’s tenacity and sheer talent on the track turned into you looking at the Dutch with hearty eyes and wondering how he would taste on your lips. Maybe he would taste like the Red Bull he always seemed to drink or was it him tasting entirely of something else….. Oh, you were doing it again! Yup, you were indeed doomed.

Everyone on your team said to keep your distance and you did! Not that it was hard because Max did the same. It was weird he was always friendly to Daniel and Checo and even the other RB and Red Bull staff, but Max had this certain “coolness” when interacting with you. He was never rude or anything like that… Max just seemed guarded. Fuck! why did it have to be Max?!

“Y/N, anything to add?” the present hit you quick and fast — and that present was every pair of eyes in the room zoning in on you and your next statement.

You had so much to say and yet you presented the pr smile you practiced way too much, the smile the mirror in your driver's room knew too well. And with that same practiced smile, you stared down the reporter and uttered “Nope, nothing else from me. Thanks”

You swore you could hear Max scoff silently. Your head snapped to the Red Bull driver beside you instantly. You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t Max directly looking back at you with those piercing blue eyes and an eyebrow cocked upwards.

It seemed that you forgot how to blink because you just stared right into his gaze, your heart accelerating by the second — you had the same feeling you had at every start of a race; the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but instead of pushing your foot on the gas… you wanted to push your lips to his. WOAH. You needed to get a grip on yourself! Where the hell did that even come from?

Neither the two of you were backing down, only breaking eye contact when another reporter asked a question to Max. But before Max had answered, you saw him lightly shake his head sheepishly as the words “so fucking cute” whispered out of his mouth.

***

You were so fucking gutted. It was another race that your team had screwed you over for your teammate once again.

You were leading and you had clean air in front of you and your teammate was 5 seconds behind, everything was in place and you were in P10 when you suddenly heard from the radio to let Daniel overtake you.

You loved Danny, but that was so unfair! You tried to argue over the radio yet your appeals are once again disregarded by the team. You followed team orders and thought that this was for the long run that this would show that you were a team player and that you would be an asset as Max’s teammate in the future.

Yet no matter how much you tried to cheer yourself up or make excuses for the team, the anger and betrayal never dissipated.

You were dragging your feet towards your motorhome when suddenly you were pulled into the dark alley between your motorhome and McLaren’s hiding the two of you between used race tyres.

A shout was ready to leave your mouth when the person’s hand stopped you from doing so.

“It’s me, Max! Don’t shout” Max whispered as his eyes darted to see if anyone was looking.

The space between the motorhome wasn’t that spacious, so Max had you pushed into the wall. You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the taste of sticky champagne on Max’s hands transferring onto your lips.

The initial shock and Max’s closeness made you breathless and your mind spinning. What the hell is happening? Max slowly peeled his hand away from your lips.

“What the hell Max? You scared the shit out of me!” You wheezed as you breathed deeply, trying to steady your shakiness.

“There’s a difference between being nice and being a pushover. You can’t just bow down to every command your team gives you” Max had suddenly sprung on you. Your brain was reeling trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Max. I- uh… what?” only incomprehensible words fell out of your mouth.

Max held your shoulders as he bent down, his face now leveling yours. Max's face held all seriousness as his eyes, his eyes still shone with fire behind them even with the darkness that enveloped the two of you.

“Take my advice L/N, fight back and do what you want.” As Max said those last words — he was gone.

The only indication that told you that everything that happened was real was the Winner’s champagne tasting so sweet and tangy on your lips … the same champagne Max’s hand left.

***

“I chose Y/N” Max announced to the host and crew who were on the set. Everybody was shocked at the Dutch’s choice.

Red Bull and RB are filming another media junket for the fans to enjoy and everything was running normally till Max chose you as his teammate. Everyone, including you, was expecting him to pick Daniel when the staff said to choose your teammate from the other racing team.

“Aww! Max you’ve betrayed our years of friendship” Danny acted hurt as he held onto his heart, earning chuckles from everyone— which effectively diffused the atmosphere.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at your teammate’s antics. You made your way to Max’s side, careful not to be too close or too far for fans to overanalyze.

The distance between you and Max was at least 2 feet when he took it upon himself to step nearer towards you and smile his charming smile at you when you looked up at him quizzically.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, but your curiosity won over your nerves. What is going on with Max this couple of races? He had been very attentive and approachable towards you all of a sudden. Opening doors for you delivering water bottles, and giving your favorite snacks during media shoots and lots more. Not that you were complaining!

You couldn’t help yourself but ask the driver what was going on. You surveyed the room and found that everyone was focused on Checo and Danny.

You lifted your hand and discretely tugged on Max's shirt to gain his attention. And it worked as he found himself looking down into your eyes with curiosity.

“What is it Y/N?” Max asked lowly trying not to get everyone else to look at the two of you.

“What’s up with you recently?” You whispered back.

Max’s brows slightly crunched together.

“What do you mean?” He asked confused

“ I mean, you’re being so nice and attentive to me.” As the words spilled put your mouth, you realized just how stupid the question was. It was just Max being a decent person, right??

Max only chuckled and bent down to your ears, his lips ghosting the shell of it, sending goosebumps all over your body

“I’m just taking my advice Y/N. I’m doing what I want to do… team rules be damned”

***

Knocks echoed through your hotel room as you heard Max call for you to open the door.

You opened the door to a disheveled Max.

“Max?” you called out to the driver who pushed himself into your room and sat on your bed.

Ever since that day of the Media junket, you and Max grew closer together. You got to know Max than what was on the surface and you two quickly grew a bond that was more than just friendship.

The tension was there yet neither the two of you were acting on it. From his lingering touches that drove you crazy and the flirting disguised as banter you exchange on the daily— frustrating as it may seem, you loved every second of it.

You joined Max in your bed, you sat beside him and took his hand in your own. Your entwined fingers looked so unusual yet right together, it made you smile.

You feel Max tug on your hand trying to catch your attention. You looked up at him with a questioning stare

“They’re switching Checo and Daniel next season… they dropped you out of the roster” Max spoke carefully.

The smile on your face dropped instantly, as his words ran through your mind. Your face is painted white from disbelief.

They choose Daniel over you?

“What?” You whispered, the hurt and confusion evident in your face.

“You deserve to know before they announce it to everyone… you don’t deserve to be humiliated”

You were speechless. Tears didn’t even come pouring down … you were just in shock. You thought that the Red Bull seat was your, done deal. You’re so far away in the points from your teammate. Your driving was close to flawless … so why?!

You couldn’t even say anything. You just felt Max pull you into his embrace.

“If what I’ve heard from Mercedes is true, take it. Screw loyalty, that team failed you in every way. You deserve so much better”

***

“Y/N, final lap. Verstappen is 2 seconds behind, push the car. I repeat push the car” You hear Vince, your race engineer over the radio.

“With pleasure” you felt yourself smile. The excitement mixed with adrenaline pumping in your veins as you floored your Mercedes, driving the car to its maximum

Everything was a blur, you were on autopilot as you made every turn perfectly. As the past events that led to this moment played in your mind.

How you took Max’s advice and moved to Mercedes. You remember the relief when you penned your signature down on that contract as Toto was smiling wide at you, shaking your hand firmly as he welcomed you to his family.

You remember the feeling of sharing your first-ever podium with Max and him being so proud of you and what you’ve done so far. You were still in that scap RB car and this podium was the final “fuck you” to them, before you announce you switching teams. The self-doubt in your heart is being washed away by the sweet champagne that Max sprayed all over you. You knew you made the right choice.

And you couldn’t forget how Max had been with you when you finally dropped the bomb on RB and Red Bull. He had been through with you with every step.

And here you are now, chasing your first win in Formula 1 with the team capable to give you a winning car. You see the chequered flag waving and you hear the crowd roar as you finally cross the line

“Y/N L/N YOU ARE A GRAND PRIX WINNER!” You hear Toto over the radio and your team is cheering in the background.

“YES! YES! THANK YOU EVERYONE! WE DID IT” You shouted back as you parked your car on Parc Ferme.

you stepped out of the car you ran to the waiting arms of your team as they cheered and congratulated you continuously. When you finally to Vince who smiled so wide as he patted your helmet; his smile grew even wider as he looked behind you.

“Remove your helmet and balaclava.” He said as he offered his hand saying to give it to him. You looked at him confused but did as he said.

“Turn around” He shouted with glee as you heard everyone starting to cheer louder.

You did turn around and there stood Max Verstappen with a bouquet at hand, a smile on his face as his arms were opened wide.

Your jaw dropped and your hand covered your mouth in shock. The entire world was watching yet neither of you cared as you ran into Max's arms. You buried your face in his chest as his arm enveloped you.

“Hi boyfriend” You greeted the Red Bull driver with a grin

“Does Toto know?” Max asked as he looked at your team principal and mechanics that were shocked at what they were seeing.

“Well thanks to you EVERYONE now knows. Your not really slick there buddy” You giggled at the Red Bull driver’s antics.

Max kissed the side of your head before mumbling into your hair “ Well gotta let everyone know you’re mine . Congratulations on the win, Schat! I told you you’ll win ~ I could feel it”

You feel yourself chuckle and shake your head. You gazed up at the Dutch driver.

“Shut up and kiss me you dork” You whispered to Max, a gleam in your eye that he sure noticed.

“Yes, Ma’am” Max’s lips finally met yours in a sweet and passionate kiss — you knew what Max tasted like and you wouldn’t mind having another taste. Everything was just perfect and you would not exchange it for anything in the world.

“I always wondered what you tasted like” You said when you pulled apart. Your hand ran through his hair, something you wanted to do for ages.

“Really? What do I taste like?” Max asked clearly amused. His hand on your lower back now guiding the two of you to be interviewed.

“Sweat” You joked, and he only rolled his eyes and kissed you once more.

***

“ A question for Y/N please” You internally groaned and rolled your eyes as you heard his voice once again. This man was an actual menace.

“Yes, Hillary?” You said into the mic, a sickeningly sweet smile on your lips as you stared him down.

“It’s Harry” He corrected you.

“Oops, sorry Larry! please continue” You hear your fellow drivers snicker and hide laughs beside you.

It was like full circle, the same set of drivers in the interview — sat in the same positions yet now you were driving for Mercedes, clad in black instead of RB’s white race suit.

“Do you think Max let you win during the last race? He does fancy you.” You hear yourself laugh and you aren’t afraid to let others see. You’re no longer holding back for the sake of your team.

“I don’t know, Barry. I don’t know if you watched the race, but if you did might have seen that I already led the race at turn 1 till the final lap. no? And I sure do hope that he fancies me, considering he is my boyfriend afterall” You replied and couldn’t help yourself as you shot him a wink.

“You’re very confident, now that you’re in Mercedes. Huh?” Ohhh he was seething, if this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears.

“ Yeah, I’m getting comfortable in my seat, thanks for asking. I’m only getting started” You said with a shit-eating grin.

To your left, you hear Max utter the words “ That’s my girl” proudly.

A/N ++ : I don’t know what to feel about my writing here tbh~ My brain is fried 🙃

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v : open for tag request

[siriuslyapuff]

mic'd up for aces v fever/ k.martin

kate martin x reader!

summary: you're mic'd up at the Aces game versus the Indiana Fever as your girlfriend plays her (and your) best friend.

!𝑨𝑩𝑩𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺¡

okay okay my first wbb fic on here (lol pls be nice)

also, this is my first ever y/n fic so...

Two days before the Aces were set to play the Fever, you were sent an email from the Aces media team. Kate had been sitting behind you as you opened it, laughing immediately at their request. They were practically begging you to be mic’d up at the game, courtside. They wanted you of course, due to your connection as a Hawkeye, deciding to come back for a fifth year instead of entering the draft as you were going for your masters. It also helped that their star rookie was your girlfriend. 

It was an easy decision. You told them, yes, ignoring the teasing from your girlfriend as you did so. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea to you, getting to commentate on your girlfriend and your best friend as they went head to head for the first time as pros. 

“Baby, you realize this is the perfect opportunity for me to embarrass the hell out of you and Cinamon?” Kate got quiet real fast after that threat. 

🂡🂡🂡

The day of the game had arrived, and you decided to go with Kate to the lab, as it was a home game for the Aces. As soon as you arrived the team swarmed upon you, laughing and asking for you to add in specific commentary tonight during the game. 

“No Syd I will not tell everyone you’re single and ready to mingle,” you playfully shove the older woman, laughing with everyone else as she starts to fake cry. “Go away you baby, I gotta go get mic’d.” 

They all began to hype you up as the media crew came over with a little clip-on mic and pac. You listened intently as they walked you through how it would work tonight. You’d be seated right next to your coaches, and former coach Lisa Bluder, and would have the mic the whole game. You couldn’t be more excited as you knew this would give your girlfriend even more publicity and love from the media and fans. 

You turned to her as she grabbed your hand. 

“I’ll see you in a bit when we head over to Michalaub,” she leaned in, connecting your lips, leaving you wanting just a little bit more. 

🂡🂡🂡

The media team had your mic on as you and Kate made your way into the arena for pre-game shoot-outs. The Fever was already there practicing and you giggled to yourself as you saw Caitlin stretching. 

“Hey guys!” You turned to the cameras, “My name is y/n l/n, some of you may know me as number 26 for the Iowa Hawkeyes, and my favorite title, Kate Martin’s girlfriend!” 

The entire team started laughing as you introduced yourself and you turned around to shush them. Cait couldn’t know you were mic’d up yet. It had to be a surprise. 

“Anyways, I’m going to be mic’d up courtside tonight at the game versus the Fever. But for now, I have a reunion to get to.” You winked at the camera, spinning on your heel and cupping a hand to your mouth. 

“Hey, Cinamon!” Her head whipped around from where she was standing with your girlfriend, the two of them having had their reunion. 

“Tink?” Her eyes went wide with disbelief, she’d known you’d be at the game but had no idea you’d be at shoot around. 

The pair of you collided, and she spun you around the same way Kate had done to her. Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the contact. You and Caitlin had been friends for years, both of you meeting when you played for USA in 2018. You both committed to Iowa and roomed together Freshman year, she was the sister you’d always wanted, and it had been painful to be away from her. 

“How are you?” You whispered, being mindful of the fact that you were mic’d up. 

“I’m fine,” she smiled at you, repeating what she’d said to Kate, and you knew she’d also seen through the bs answer, but you let it go. 

“I’m all mic’d up tonight,” you grinned, pointing at the mic on your shirt, “Kmart’s scared I’ll embarrass her.” 

“Hey, I never said that!” Kate butted into the conversation, “She’s lying CC.” 

“You calling me a liar right now?” You raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing down at the mic on your chest. 

Kate folded immediately, “No Baby, I would never.” 

You and Caitlin look at each other before bursting out into laughter. Some things never change. 

🂡🂡🂡

“Hello, Las Vegas!” You had a cameraman pointed at you from next to one of the hoops, the media crew had told you they had a few different angles on you, all connected to your mic. “I’m here with some of my favorite women!” 

You wrapped an arm around your former head coach as she laughed, wrapping her own arm around your shoulders. 

“Hey Tink,” she pressed a kiss to the side of your head. She’d been the one to give you your on-court nickname. It started as ‘Tinkerbell’ because you would flit around the court like you were flying while playing defense, and the team eventually just shortened it to ‘Tink’. 

“Hey, coach! You excited for tonight?” You pulled on your shirt so she could talk into the mic. 

“Very excited, it’s going to be weird not yelling at Kate and Caitlin, but I guess I’ll manage.” You and Coach Jan erupted into laughter, and so did Coach Hammon who was listening in with a smirk. 

“I’m also joined by my new head coach!” You positioned your body to face Jan, grinning at her. 

“You excited to see our girls play?” 

“Of course I am! I’ve got my phone ready to take all the behind-the-scenes pictures and videos.” 

“Me too!” You grin, “I can’t wait to hit Caitlin and Katie with the evil 0.5s.” 

You hear the whistle blow, and watch everyone come out onto the floor. 

“There’s Cinamon!” Your eyes find Caitlin and she sends you a grin. “Look at her, my sister from another mister.” 

You watch as the Aces get possession of the ball, eyes following Caitlin as she defends Kelsey. Moving down the court you can’t help but laugh as you watch Jackie attempting to guard her. 

“Jackie’s in for a challenge, CC is hard as hell- oh shit- wait fuck- no sorry, am I allowed to swear? Whatever, Cait’s hard to guard. She’s knocked me on my ass -sorry- a few too many times.” 

“Let’s go!” You stand up as Jackie drains the three, smirking at Cait as she runs past you. 

“Cait that's not your basket.” You laugh as she shoots after Kelsey gets a foul. 

Cait turns the ball over and you share a look with Coach Bluder, this has been a problem since you were Freshmen. Caitlin just sees the game differently and is six steps ahead of everyone else. It was you and Kate who were able to keep up with her pace, which is what made you so unstoppable on the court. It would take time for the Fever to match what she was putting down. 

“Come on Cait, shake it off.” You watch as she misses a three, shaking your head, “she's gonna be pissed about that.” 

Your eyes flit away from the game and onto the figure of your girlfriend as she sits on the bench, eyes fixed on Caitlin and the game. 

“Kmoney is locked in everyone, she’s got her serious face on.” 

Caitlin fouls and you let out an audible “oh shit” before apologizing into your mic again. 

“Cait never loses the ball like that- oh she got it back!” 

Your eyes flick between the bench and the court, waiting for the moment Kate takes off her warmups. 

“A’ja’s going to have a nasty bruise from that.” You watch her get popped in the face, the entire crowd going crazy over it. 

“Guys I’m just sitting here waiting for my girlfriend to go in,” you smile at one of the cameras pointed at you, before pointing at the jersey you’re wearing with Kate’s number on it. 

“I'm repping 20 for a reason. Ooo that sounds like the Sabrina Carpenter song ‘Pushing 20’,” you start humming the song. “Kate when you watch this, that should be your theme song.” 

“LET’S GO!” You jump up from your seat as Caitlin drains her first three of the night, holding up three fingers at her. “That’s my best friend!” You side-eye your girlfriend who’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow “Sorry Katie. You’re still number one in my heart.” 

“Okay CC’s on the bench guys, geez she looks wiped already, girl needs some sleep.” 

“Okay, Megan’s getting ready to check in, a win for the Hawkeyes tonight.” You high-five her as she passes you. “Guys I never played with Megan, but she was a legend when CC and I came in as Rookies.” 

Your girlfriend comes running towards you, “Yes Baby!” You catch her warmup shirt that she tosses aside slapping her ass as she passes. 

“My girl is so fine,” you’ve completely forgotten your coaches are sitting next to you until Julie reaches over. 

“Hey, that’s still my niece Tink!” 

“Sorry, Julie!” Caitlin also gets up to check in, squatting down right next to Kate. You watch them exchange smirks, knowing they’ll be guarding each other. “Here we go, Coach!” 

You nudge Coach Bluder who looks a bit teary-eyed herself. 

“Shit Kelsey,” you catch the ball that bounces out of bounds keeping KP from falling on you. 

“Sorry y/n,” she grins before locking back into the game. 

The buzzer goes and you stand up as Kate and Caitlin check into the game together, “That’s my girl!” 

“Guys I might start crying and that’s embarrassing.” You say as you sit back down, eyes filling up with tears. “It’s weird seeing them in different colors, and sitting on the side instead of being on the floor with them.” 

“Sorry guys you might have to cut this,” you stifle a small sob as you watch them defend each other. It was one thing talking about it, and making jokes, but seeing it happen, and not playing yourself was a whole other thing that had your throat tightening. 

“I’m filming!” Jan says, making you let out a choked laugh. You push back the tears, telling yourself to be happy that they’re both living out their dreams. 

You pull out your phone, taking a few photos and videos of your girl and her best friend as they guard each other for the first time outside of carver-hawkeye. 

They’re both trying to play it cool, but the smile on their faces as they sprint down the court towards you tells a different story. 

“CC and Kmart together again.” You point to Cait who points back giving you a grin. 

“All that’s missing is their Tink.” Coach Bluder says, patting your knee. 

“Look at my girl go!” You grin, pointing at Kate who grabbed the ball in the turnover, making her way down the court. 

“How is that not Aces Ball!?” You’re just as pissed as your girlfriend, who’s gotten good at challenging ref’s over the years. “She’s going to complain about that to me later guys,” you whisper into the mic. 

“Okay guys, the first quarter is over. We had our on-court reunion with my favorite Hawkeyes. How are we feeling, because I’m emotional.” You’re having a one-sided conversation with yourself as Coach Bluder gets up to go sit with the commentators for the second quarter. 

“Guys she’s starting in the second quarter! My girl is a pro now!” 

“I’m never letting that go CC,” you say as you watch her basically throw the ball out of bounds. 

“Look at her, I’m literally the luckiest girl in the world.” 

“Cait just missed that three and it landed in Katie’s hands, once upon a time that would have ended up as an assist.” 

Your eyes widen as you watch Kate go down, her knee at a weird angle, your heart in your throat. “That better not be a bad fall.” You say to Jan, “Thank God.” You mutter as she gets up, sprinting down the court.

“Oh shit, that looked like it hurt,” all respect for your language went out the window the moment Kate fell. You were fired up, the worry for your girlfriend at the max. Even as you watched Cait get smacked in the eye. 

“Cinamon shoots two.” She drains the first, “nice CC,” drains the second, “easy money.” 

“Good job Baby,” Kate smiles at you, hand grazing your leg as she walks back to the bench. 

“Syd babes that was a flop.” You laugh watching her go down. 

“Get some Money!” Kate runs past you again to check-in. “Katie in, CC out.” 

“Shit Kate!” Your hand flys to your mouth as you watch her ankle go, and the limp-hop she does after. “That is not good guys. She shook it off pretty good, but I can tell when my girl is in pain.” 

Kate goes down again, and you can’t help but clench your teeth as you hear the skid of her thigh on the court. “Come on baby, shake it off.” She gets up slower this time, you can tell it’s wearing on her, but she's pushing through. 

“Yes, Money Martin with the assist!” 

“Jesus Christ, is it throw y/n’s girlfriend to the ground day or something?” Kate goes down yet again, this time a foul is called, thankfully. A’ja runs to pull her up and you grin, “Look at A’ja helping my girl out like the good vet she is.” 

You turn your head to look over at Caitlin who has her face buried in her towel, only her eyes showing, and you know it’s her way of keeping her eyes on the game without revealing anything. But you can see worry in the crease between her eyebrows, you’re both not liking the ground time Kate’s been getting. 

Kate walks past you as she comes in for the time-out. She sends you a nod, letting you know she’s okay. 

“Okay guys, sorry for the lack of comments, it’s been a bit tense here. Gotta make sure my girl is fine before I can be commentating.” 

“You would make a terrible sports commentator,” Coach Bluder says, laughing at the put-out look on your face. 

“Cooked by Bluder, everyone!” You hold your hand to your chest in mock hurt, “demolished by my coach. But alas, she’s right. I’d just be too busy talking about my girlfriend to be a good commentator.” 

Coach leans closer to you, “She’s censoring herself for you guys, these are tame compared to the comments she drops during Hawkeye practices and games.” 

“Okay, enough mic time for you coach!” 

“Look at her go bringing the ball up! My little pro.” You practically have heart eyes, and for the first time, you see yourself projected on the jumbotron. 

“Oh okay, I see how it is,” You grin, finding the camera that’s projecting you, winking pointing to your jersey, then the court where Kate is.

The crowd goes insane, causing some of the players to look up, earning a laugh from Caitlin and a wink from Kate. 

“I’m more popular than both of them combined.” 

Kate comes back to the bench again and you squeeze her hand as she passes. She sends you a smile, finding her seat next to Megan again, both of you locking back into the game. 

“Let's go! Halftime baby!” You stand from your seat. “See you guys after the break!” 

🂡🂡🂡

“Okay everyone I’m back! Let's go! I have a feeling we’ll be getting some money this quarter.” 

You turn to look at the empty seats around you. “Well, you may notice I am now awkwardly here alone. Coach Bluder and Coach Jenson are off socializing, so I’m left to man the fort.” 

“I can’t believe they called that a foul,” you mutter, as Coach Hammon goes to challenge the foul a second time. 

“My lover is back in the game, you guys.” You watch as Smith misses both foul shots. 

“That was a waste of a foul.” 

“MONEY!” You shout, jumping to your feet as Kate scores her first points of the day, draining a three with ease. “That’s my fucking girl! Let’s fucking go! We are so back!” 

Kate points to you as she runs down the court, making a heart with her hands as you hold up three fingers. 

“Get her babe!” Kate’s on Caitlin again, and your bias towards your girlfriend begins to show as she plays solid defense. 

After A’ja’s fouled you can see Caitlin talking to the ref about Kate, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s got Kate smirking. 

“They’re talking mad shit to each other, I just know it,” you whisper into the mic. “I wonder how personal those insults are getting.” 

“Baby’s gone beast mode,” you say as you watch Kate celebrating A’ja’s shot. 

“Look at her cheesin’ isn’t she the cutest.” You watch Kate grin at whatever Caitlin says to her. 

“Kmoney for the block!” You yell, “a fucking beast!” 

You stand as she goes for the three, but it rims and falls out of the basket, “shake it off, baby! Plenty more buckets to make!”

“Quarter three is over guys, and my beautiful girlfriend has been burning up the court!” 

“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” You stand throwing up three fingers as Kate drains her second three of the night. “Redemption baby!” 

She points at you as she runs back down the court. 

“Kmart is on fire right now guys!” 

“That’s a fucking foul! Yeah, call that shit! It’s in Let’s fucking go!” You’re on your feet, ignoring the laughs from your coaches at your yelling, you’re saying everything you can’t say when you’re on the bench. 

“My girl is the goat guys. She’s on fucking fire.” 

Kate's eyes find yours, grinning when she sees you standing, clapping for her, a triumphant smile on your face. 

“Drained it!” You watch her make the foul shot, clapping your hands together as you finally sit back down. The jumbotron is split between the two of you, one half showing you’re over the top reaction and the other replaying her basket. 

Caitlin stands in front of you as she checks back into the game. “Let’s go CC,” you can’t see her face, but you can sense her little smirk. 

“Y’all see the bruises on that girl’s arms? Geez, maybe I need to send her some arm guards for real.” Coach Bluder bursts out into laughter at that. 

“Katie’s back on the bench guys, so my commentary will be limited as I will now spend this time admiring her.” Your coaches snort, as they know this is a very common occurrence for you. But you ignore them, eyes finding the tired ones of your girlfriend. 

‘you okay?’ you mouth, looking at her intently. 

She nods, ‘I’m good, love you.’ 

‘I love you too.’ 

Your eyes move back to the court, finding Caitlin’s very tired-looking figure. Her hands are on her knees and you just know she's done for the night. She spends more time in the game than on the bench, and it’s wearing on her. WNBA is way more physical and demanding compared to the NCAA, and Caitlin is getting the short end of the stick. 

You pull out your phone, pulling up her contact. 

‘cinnamon, if i don’t receive photo evidence of you resting over the next few days. i’ll fly to indiana and sit next to your bed while you sleep.’ 

You hit send, knowing she won’t see it until after the game, and that you could tell her in person, but this way she knows you were thinking about it during the game itself. 

“CC is 100% done for the night guys, she’s tired.” You say as you watch her check out of the game and head to the bench. 

“But my girl is back in playing the last few minutes of the game!” 

The quarter moves on and your eyes intently follow Kate as she runs up and down the court. But you’re silent as you observe, too entranced with Kate to remember your mic’d. That is until she’s fouled again.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her knee go at a dangerous angle yet again as she goes for the three. 

“You’re literally kidding!? Yeah, that’s another fucking whistle!” You watch her take a few stumbling steps before regaining her footing. “You got this Katie.” 

“Three foul shots, if she makes just one, guys, she’ll go double digits for this game!” 

“Get in there… YES!” You grin, clapping your hands together as you will the ball to go in. 

“And she hits the second, that’s my fucking girlfriend!” You can hear A’ja laughing at you from the bench and you send her a look, getting a grin back in response. 

“All three! Twelve points tonight for my girl!” 

“And Aces win!” You jump up from your chair as the buzzer sounds. Your arms wrap around Coach Jensen as she stands up as well, both of you laughing with joy for Kate. You pull away, your eyes finding Caitlin on the floor, sending her a smile, asking with your gaze if she's okay. She nods at you, knowing you want to spend the next few minutes with Kate. 

‘See you later?’ you mouth and she nods again. 

“Kate was on fire tonight!” Jan exclaims, “Twelve points is incredible for her!” 

“She was amazing,” you say as you see her heading back from the commentator stand. She jogs over to where you guys are, launching herself into your arms. 

“Hi baby,” she says into your neck, hands around your waist. 

“Hi lovebug,” you tighten your arms around her neck, “you played so well tonight.” 

“Mmm,” she mutters, nose still pressed against your throat. “I need you at all my games now.” 

“Every game this summer till training camp for Iowa, baby.” She pulls back, finally pressing her lips to yours, not a care in the world for whoever is around. 

She pulls back, glancing down at the mic still attached to your shirt. “Alright guys, I hope you had fun listening to my amazing girlfriend’s commentary, but now I want her all to myself.” 

Kate plucks the mic from your shirt, handing it off to one of her coaches before taking your hand and leading you towards the rest of your little ‘party’. 

🂡🂡🂡

After the game, you meet up with Caitlin, pulling her into your arms, knowing how she beats herself up after a loss. She melts into your arms as if you’re sixteen again and living without a care in the world. 

“You played good tonight cinnamon, don’t beat yourself up. You’re drained from your game in LA.” 

“I know,” she mumbles, “it still sucks.” 

You rub her shoulders, sending Kate a reassuring smile at the look of concern on her face. “It’ll get better CC, you just can’t let yourself burn out. You gotta take care of yourself.” 

“I’m trying Tink. It’s hard. But I’m trying.” 

“Call me whenever you get down, okay?” You pull back, looking her in the eyes. “I’m here for you, Katie’s here for you. We want you to be happy and enjoy yourself. So talk to us okay?”

“Okay.” She smiles, a mischievous look crossing her face, and you know what’s coming because you saw her do it to Kate and yelled at her for it. 

“Don’t you fucking dare Clark!” 

“Too late,” she smirks, hand connecting with your ass. You yelp shoving her away. 

“Hey, woah woah, hands off Clark.” Kate pulls you into her arms, making sure you don’t step on her, as she’s not wearing shoes, again. 

Cait puts her hands up, grinning. “Sorry Cap.” Kate makes a face, hand going down to wrap around your waist, keeping you at her side and away from Caitlin’s ass slaps. 

The three of you were back together again, and you knew, somehow everything would be okay.

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwelcomed embrace (part two)

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: this one shot is continuation of this one.

Tw: mentions of violence

"Why don't you have one of those small micro earphones that you attach to the collar of the clothing?" You groaned as you tried to find a good position to rest your hand on under the weight of the mic in your hand, you sighed as you looked at its round head, you didn't like it that much, it felt uneasy in your palm. The chair was too rigid for you to sit comfortably on it, creaking under your weight. You looked down at the mic that had a sock on as a muffler, smiling at the inventiveness of the reporter. "I presume your budget is not that much huh?" The reporter nodded with a sheepish smile as he tried to put on some powder to conceal some of the scar marks on your face, well, as much as your skin color let him do so. "Yeah..." he sighed "the budget is low."

You looked at him, focused on his task, young and ambitious, just like you, you felt like he had the same recklessness as well, why would a sane person come and meet a dangerous anti-hero over a post on Twitter? "Ready?" He asked as he adjusted his camera, you shifted on your seat once more, checking the dark background of the warehouse you were in, and then looked back at the shiny lens of the camera. You paused, still, your hand didn't have a good place to rest its elbow on, huffing in irritation, you rolled your eyes, you had to do something about it, if it kept irritating you, you'd end up messing everything up. So you focused on the cemented floor below, making a thick-bodied plant sprout out of the harsh floor and bend towards you, its leaves forming a cocoon, you smirked and put the mic on the head of the plant and used it as a stand, chuckling at the amazement of the reporter "Now I'm ready!"

"1...2...3..." the reporter spoke softly before the camera started filming and the red light on its front started blinking. "Alright, please introduce yourself..." he spoke to you behind the camera, tapping his pen nervously, you hummed to yourself and tapped your chin as you crossed your legs, trying to find a point to start from "I feel like a Podcaster now..." you joked, before clearing your throat as you started "Well, I'm what media used to call the "Green super" You used quotation marks in the air, your voice showing hints of your initial irritation to the name, which had associated you with superman since your powers were nearly the same. "But now I go with the Green Death, pretty cheesy, but I like it" you chuckled and continued "Well the name is not that far off from my personality either, I am green, my skin is that color."

"So, Green Death, your name has been on the news as the sole force that has kept the Armageddon from happening, twice, already, and now you, all of a sudden, while you had ignored the chance of interviewing with huge media broadcasters, have decided to have an interview now, here in the middle of nowhere, why is that?" You rubbed your chin as you thought about a response, your lips tilting upwards in a smirk "Well, now I have enough evidence to finally show the world who the heroes truly are." You paused, taking it the confused expression of the reporter, adding quickly "Make no mistake, I'm not going to expose their identities, that would make hell break loose, I just simply want to shed a much more different light on them and their actions. As you may know, I was a part of the young Justice League and then Justice League itself for a few years, and I'm the result of a 'heroic affair' myself, so I'd have a very different insight on them..."

"Why though? I mean we pretty much know about the heroes..." You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your seat "Well, that is sort of true, but tell me, do you know of the assaults and different crimes that have happened by their hands? For example, do you know Batman has kidnapped nearly three people and has erased their documents out of the system, making them vanish into thin air, never to be seen?" The reporter's eyes widened at that, your smirk turned into a wide smile as you continued "I have both the video footage and documents of it happening..."

"B-but why do you want to expose them for their deeds, knowing well you are fully aware of what they can do, surely they don't want anyone to know that... " "I have exposed the bad guys of the story already, my mother is after me because of that, so I don't think exposing the heroes would be any different...the world has to know who they truly are!"

You were hellbent on tarnishing the images of the heroes once and for all.

Since the time you had left the Justice League, your life had changed a lot, just within two years, you had gone from being a hero to a villain and then to an anti-hero, a cruel topsy turvey irony. It all had started with your mother finally owning up to her parenting role and had found you in your most vulnerable state when you were struggling to pass your days in your trailer. She took you in and tried in her twisted way to help you, for a short period you felt like you had a family, she seemed genuinely nice. But a few months later, you ended up joining the dark force, how? You still were not sure, all you could remember was your mother's voice echoing in your mind as she puffed a shiny dust in your face, and you shaking hands with the Darkseid himself as he had that disgusting grin on his face. It was after that night that you found out that bitch had manipulated you into joining the bad guys, well who wouldn't want to have a version of Superman in their league that wasn't vulnerable to kryptonite? At first, you tried to pretend that you did want to hurt people just for the fun of it, in your mind, you were taking revenge on your father, who looked devastated whenever you had joint missions with your new teammates.

Well, you couldn't deny that the sheer rush of dopamine you felt was great, no rules were there to hold you back, just destroy and enjoy, the loot was lucrative as well. But, still, something in the back of your mind nagged and you couldn't overlook that you hated hurting vulnerable people and you couldn't do it anymore, so at a very crucial mission, you ended up killing all of your teammates before fleeing. You gave your mother a good beating up before you dropped her on the Arkham's doors and then vanished into an abandoned base until things became normal. After that your way of life became of an anti-hero, you didn't want to admit it but annoying the heroes was fun, at least you weren't killing vulnerable people. You did what they couldn't do, you fought without rules and the results were more drastic.

But you wanted to roast your father more, you wanted to make him burn, and what was better than exposing him? "As for Superman, he at least has killed more than 100 people in his missions, the government has already covered that up but I have the proof...flash has caused a climate change that ended up ruining agriculture of the whole world for a year, resulting in famines, Aquaman has sunk a few ships, that were NOT of military-related, killing civilians, also, Wonder woman has kidnapped a few people...and so on and so forth." You started warming up, mentioning more and more of what you knew.

The reporter took note as you spoke, and you were liking the role of the one exposing the hidden secrets of the heroes. You were actually enjoying it too much, so much in fact that your super-human sense didn't detect the flight of Superman and Superboy coming to your location at a bullet-like speed. And within seconds they both crashed into the warehouse Kool-Aid style, making a huge impact.

You were quick to react, using your laser eyes to attack Super Boy, but Conner was quick to dodge, Clark quickly pulled the reporter out of the range of the fight and out of sight, he let Bruc take care of the reporter and his evidence later, now he had you, his troubling child that was now entering dangerous waters. Conner and you fought, trashing the warehouse even further, you didn't know why but Conner's grin was getting on your nerves already.

The two supers had a plan of taking you down, and it was going pretty smoothly, going just as planned, you grew to angry and Conner used it to his advantage, pinning you down by a broken pillar, giving Clark enough time so he could throw the pollen towards you, damn it! How the hell they had gotten their hands on the special pollen that your mother had created just for controlling you?! You tried to not breathe, but the bitter taste of it already had formed in your mouth, making your mind go foggy. Damn it! Damn it!!!!!!

"We need to talk..." Clark's voice echoed in your mind, your vision was so distorted that you could only see the silhouette of your father approaching you "And we need to talk properly!" His voice made your heart skip...uh oh...Clark was serious.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Encontrar tu media naranja

♥ pairing: lando norris x latina!fem!singer!reader

♥ synopsis: during one of your concerts a fan threw their phone up on stage. after you finished recording a video, you tried tossing it back to them and ended up accidentally hitting a world famous f1 driver in the face

♥ smau - none of the pictures are mine - face claim: alexa demie

♥ warnings: swearing, blood, accidental violence lol !!!

♥ a/n: if I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fanfic about finding love by getting hit in the face with object I'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. + ignore spelling errors in my Spanish please some of it autocorrected lol

♥ masterlist

You turned your back towards the crowd as people cheered. You raised the phone in your hand up high to get as many people in the video as possible. After you ended the recording, you clicked the phone off and tried tossing it back to the original fan that threw it on stage.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd around the barricades as the phone hit a man's face. You covered your gaping mouth with your hand as you realized what you'd just done.

Your jaw was still dropped as you tried to speak.

"¿Estás bien?" you questioned.

(are you okay?)

You panicked internally as you tried to think of what to do.

"Can we get him some help?" you said, turning your gaze towards a few security guards.

"Todo el mundo por favor retroceda."

(everyone please stand back)

Security walked the man and his party out of the stadium rendering you absolutely speechless.

"Uhm," you said into the mic. "Did you get your phone back?" you asked the initial fan with an embarrassed expression.

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 743,684 more

landonorris aftermath

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yourusername IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OK

user6 HOW HARD DID SHE THROW THAT PHONE 😭😭😭

user9 miss girl can THROWWW

user1 y/n l/n baseball career when?

user7 girl needs to be pitching for the red sox, fuck 😭

user5 I feel so bad for laughing so hard

user10 the piss poor bandages on his nose-

user4 why is there so much blood holy shit

user12 didn't know Lando was a fan of her

user14 pretty sure Carlos dragged him to her concert lol

user2 not his friends laughing at him 💀

user18 someone drop the video

user16 is he okay?!?!

user17 meet cute 😍

user1 WHY IS THIS IS SO FUNNY

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 563,932 more

yourusername safe to say he forgave me

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user7 STUNNER

user1 you can throw a phone at my face any time 🤷‍♀️

user6 LANDO NOWINS NO MORE

user9 I will never get over this 😭

user18 it was just an inchident

user16 wait she wasn't wearing that while she was there??

user19 pretty sure that was a pic of her at whatever after parties they went to lol

user14 Florida nights are cold as fuck

user4 do you think Carlos is jealous of all the attention Lando is getting from her

user2 the poly fics write themselves

user10 oh my god YESSS!!!

user50 why does f1 invite celebrities that know nothing about the sport???

user12 not her wearing landos merch

user3 im sure he made her wear it lmaoo

user5 LANDO'S FIRST WIN

user17 P1 LETS FUCKING GO

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-A Few Months Later-

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 238,849 more

yourusername @ landonorris

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carlossainz55 and this was the same guy who was complaining about going to her concert a few months ago

landonorris if I remember correctly that concert ended pretty badly for me

user12 you got a girlfriend out of it I’d call that a win

user40 @/user12 they're not dating ???

user10 find someone who smiles at you the way they smile at each other

user9 they’re so cute

user3 don’t be shy drop the picture(s) he took of her

user7 I need him I fear

user8 📱👃

user1 hes so cute

user13 just date already

user15 you're so pretty

user17 I will literally never forget her breaking his nose lmaooo

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by landonorris, kaliuchis, carlossainz55, and 656,943 more

yourusername my new single "encontrar tu media naranja" is out now 🧡

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user8 ok but why does the guy in the music video look like lando...

user7 oh my god

user13 I see the vision

user9 YOURE ONTO SOMETHING

user1 Kali Uchis collab when?

user12 literally begging for a song with her, kali, and peso pluma

user3 orange sodas >>>

user24 📱👃

user11 this song is so good 🧡

user18 who's the guy in the mv???

user19 shes gorgeous

user17 I love her

user25 wait this is the singer that broke lando's nose

user5 🧡🧡🧡

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, carlossainz55 and 472,396 more

yourusername encontré a mi otra mitad

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landonorris te amo querida 🧡

yourusername 🧡

user5 bro's adorable

user2 encontrar tu media naranja? more like econtrar tu media papaya

user1 that's an interesting angle

user9 Lando still doesn't know how to make a heart with his hands lmao 😭

user7 I FUCKING KNEW IT !!!

user11 YESSS

user14 and now they're married with five kids

user18 mom and dad

carlossainz55 formally known as lando "who's y/n?"Norris

landonorris ive grown since then

user12 fuck Romeo and Juliet I want what they have

user6 so the song WAS about lando

user8 and it all started with a phone 📱

user10 I'm tearing up

[koqabear]

Happy 2k!! I have ot5 request for the mic is yours!

Ot5 reactions to you teasing them the entire day with them getting hard and then you straying away to make em mad? <3

join the 2k event and request something!

ot5 x fem! reader // wc: 3.1K(...) ; around 500 per member // smut, established relationship, MDNI.

warnings: yj; dry humping, masturbating // sb; dry humping, slightly subby binnie // bg; mean dom! gyu, degrading, unprotected sex, manhandling// th; bratty mc, slight switch tyun // hk; kinda perv!huening, grinding, a bit of subby!hyuka //

notes: ignore the fact that this is well over 2k. my stupid ass doesn’t know how to keep things brief. (i'll try to not let it happen again so don't expect this for every request aldkjh)

[Yeonjun]

Is a bit oblivious at first, but when he finds out, he’s pissed off. Poor boy was trying to remain innocent and oblivious the whole day, pretending as though the way you sat in his lap and kept getting all touchy wasn’t affecting him. His last straw was feeling the way you kept shifting on top of him, whining innocently that you couldn’t get comfortable while you both pretended that he wasn’t unbelievably hard right now and that you definitely weren’t grinding on him— cute little pussy already soaking wet as you pretend that you aren’t getting needy yourself, huffing petulantly as he tries to ignore the way his cock is slotted perfectly along your entrance. 

“Baby…” he would mutter, more of a warning than you realized as you simply hummed in response, head emerging from where it was tucked in his neck to look at him; you’re trying to hold back a smile at the way he seems tense and flushed, continuing your act as you shift once more— his hands move to grab onto your waist, eager to set a proper pace that he can fuck up into you with, but you’re getting off his lap before he can even process anything, and you’re sending him a pout as you tell him that you think you’ll just go to bed instead. 

He’s stunned for a moment… but then, he just decides to let you go; don’t think it won’t come with repercussions though, because now that he’s seen how far you decided to take this little stunt of yours, he’ll take it even further. Following you into the bedroom after a moment, taking in the way you’re simply laying on the bed and scrolling on your phone casually, glancing at him and making a show of ignoring the very blatant bulge in his sweats.

“Don’t wanna finish what you started?” he would ask, sitting at the edge of the bed and watching the way you continue to ignore him, “Okay then, that’s fine.” 

You don’t really know what he means by that, but his words are a bit ominous as you simply turn your back to him, trying to not give in as you continue to ignore him— after a while, you hear it… it’s subtle at first, the strange yet familiar sounds that have you squeezing your thighs and your body heating up— then, it’s more than obvious, the wet sounds of Yeonjun’s hand going up and down his cock and his exaggerated moans making you bury your face in your pillow, flustered and needy as you realize that he’s teasing you now; moaning your name loudly, his pace quick and cruel as he simply talks to himself— at least that’s what it seems like, but you know damn well he’s just trying to get you to look at him.

“Fuck…” he would coo your name, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ready to reach out to you any second now— but no, one glance over your shoulder and your eyes are meeting his, left frozen as he simply keeps eye contact with you, his pace quickening and his brows furrowing slightly as he simply nears his orgasm, his sounds dramatic and his abs clenching as he tenses. And like the fool you are, you try to reach out to him, more than willing to help out before he grabs your wrist to stop you, eyes narrowed angrily as he finally cums; you can only whimper quietly as you watch, eyes glossy as you hold back the urge to beg him to touch you— instead, he simply takes a moment to catch his breath, huffing quietly before he tucks himself in; then, he’s leaning over you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before he’s getting off the bed. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he says, not bothering to look back as he exits the room, “I’ll be in the living room, I have some work I need to do.”

And if you think this is the end of it, you’re definitely wrong; you can apologize and cry and beg as much as you want, but Yeonjun won’t be touching you for the rest of the night— if he’s feeling really petty, he’ll let it go on for a few days. Anything to make sure you learned your lesson.

[Soobin]

You know how weak he gets when he sees you in his clothes. At least, that must be the case, finding you in the kitchen and making dinner while you’re decked in a thin pair of shorts and his oversized hoodie, the sight making his stomach flip. There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing, acting all affectionate and excited as you run to him, squeezing him in a tight hug as he realizes with wide eyes that you’re not wearing a bra. Gulping slightly at the way you pepper him with kisses, cutely whining that you missed him while you continue to cling to him. 

He tries so hard to keep his composure— really, he does— because the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s nothing more than a pervert, always thinking with his dick when he’s around you. But oh, are you always this touchy with him…? Keeping him close to your side, asking him to taste test stuff for you as you smile at him widely— washing your hands before you go to try the filling you’ve just made for a desert, humming excitedly at how good it tastes— and before Soobin knows it, you’re offering him a taste too, your finger swiping the inside of the bowl before you’re bringing it up to his mouth; doe eyes urging him quietly to taste, pouty lips parting to say “ahh”, as though asking him to do the same. 

He really hopes you don’t take notice of how hard he is right now. Because as his tongue swirls around your finger carefully, watching the way your eyes glaze and your mouth parts slightly, he’s unable to stop his wandering thoughts that ask him if you’re as sweet as the dessert you’re making. But before he can test out his theory, you’re pulling away, mumbling to yourself that your food will burn if you don’t attend to it soon. 

This goes on for longer than Soobin would like; he’s forced to watch as you refuse to address the strong tension in the room, still playful and teasing as you eventually corner him against the cabinets, giving him an excuse that you need to get something behind him as you press against him— his cock is firm against your body, and he fails to suppress the way his breath hitches at the feeling. 

Fuck this. It’s the only thought coursing through Soobin’s mind as he comes up behind you, arms circling your waist and pulling you back into him as he begins grinding into you; poor baby is just so needy, apologizing and whining that he just couldn’t help himself as he ruts his cock against your ass, telling you to keep cooking and just ignore him— like you’ve already been doing. But his breath is hot against your neck and his voice is so whiny as he humps against you, whining filth into your ear until eventually, you’re the one giving in; you’ve never turned the stove and oven off so fast as you practically pounce on Soobin, your plan gone wrong by how needy he is, his hands and lips all over you as he practically overpowers you with his sheer need to fuck you.

Well, looks like dinner will be done a lot later than you expected.

[Beomgyu]

Your first mistake was messing with Beomgyu; your second mistake was thinking you’d actually get away with it. If there’s one thing this man loves more than anything, it’s making sure to put you in your place when you try to act out— so, when you decide to get a little bold today and tease him in public… his mind is already racing with possibilities on how to make you regret it. 

At first, it’s all just mild things; nothing too out of the ordinary, pretending to be oblivious to the lingering touches you’ve left on him as you go shopping, the way you’ve let your kisses go on longer than they should when you’re hidden in between the aisles, tempting him to venture further with the way your fingers tangle themselves in his hair and your body presses against him.

You’re never this bold; which is exactly why he can’t help but be a little surprised when you let it continue the whole day, going through with your teasing even as you sit at a restaurant with Beomgyu’s friends, laughing and talking casually as though you weren’t wearing that one dress that always made Beomgyu unnecessarily horny, and as though you hadn’t showcased the lingerie set you were wearing under to him proudly as you were getting ready, lacy and intricate and beautiful as it stuck to your skin, smiling at him cutely as you asked him if you looked good.

He finds your teasing amusing— even more so when you look at him with innocent eyes and a bright smile, laughing along with whatever his friends were saying as you listened intently to their conversation— but it’s all fun and games until you’ve had a few glasses of wine, tipsy and bold as you begin to get touchy once more, continuing to talk casually as though you aren’t aware of the way your hand is on his inner thigh, his most sensitive area as you massage it gently; thumb caressing the fabric of his pants gently, fingers squeezing him as he jumps so hard his knees knock against the table— and while his friends tease him and the glasses rattle from the impact, Beomgyu sends you a glare so harsh you can’t help but shrink back immediately. 

Poor thing, you don’t even make it out of the car. Beomgyu is fucking you in the backseat of the car parked in the driveway, angry and rough as he scolds you for trying to act out— your dress is tossed over the console and your lingerie is ripped and stained with his cum, going round after round, feeling the way your body becomes sore and weak as he puts you into any position he wants, fucking you with abandon as he degrades you for trying to get bold in front of his friends— he fucks you until you’re a crying, overstimulated and apologetic mess, babbling that you’ll never do it again as he merely laughs at you at curses to shut up and take it; “after all, this is what you wanted, right? To get put in your place?”

And even if you try to deny it and play innocent, you both know the truth— that it’s exactly what you wanted, and that you’ll definitely try it again. 

[Taehyun]

Ooh. If there’s one thing about this man, it’s that he will hold a grudge. Picks up on what you’re doing immediately— and wills himself to not fall for your tricks. Teasing him in public? He brushes you off like it’s nothing. Getting clingy and touchy with him out of nowhere? Okay, he’ll do the same. Trying to tempt him by wearing close to nothing, or continuing to sport your cute sets of lingerie in front of him? Well, then you don’t mind him walking around shirtless or working out in front of you, right? In the end, you’re scurrying away from him in order to not give in first— because without realizing it, this man turned all this teasing into a fucking competition— and now he’s trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, waiting for you to cave and admit what you’ve been trying (and failing) to do. 

It’s so ridiculous, he makes it go on long after you’ve finally given up; now you’re simply being clingy because you’re needy, all over him to give him a subtle hint that you want nothing more for him to fuck you stupid— but no, Taehyun has yet to hear an apology from you; he refuses to let your teasing slide, refuses to go along with the way you kiss him slowly, attempting to deepen it and let your hands wander under the band of his sweatpants; he’s stopped you every time, giving you an amused look and raising a brow as he simply slips from your grip, giving you a half-hearted excuse that he should get started on dinner, or that he feels tired, or worse, that he told Beomgyu he’d get on a game with him around this time. 

The worst part? You’re just as stubborn as him. You refuse to give him exactly what he wants, which is to bring you to your knees and beg him to stop being a jerk and fuck you already; your stubborn attitudes only leave you pent up and irritated with each other, unable to give up on this silent competition as this tension only grows, worsening until there's no other choice but to let it all… explode.

“What are you doing now,” he would ask you, not bothering to pretend as though he’s been oblivious to your previous attempts to tease as you pull on his chair, rolling him away from his desk and spinning him around— he’s barely given any time to react before you’re kissing him desperately, tugging your shorts off and climbing on his lap as he quickly reciprocates; he’s never felt you get this rough with him before, tugging up his shirt and slipping a hand down the band of his sweats to cup his already hardening cock, the kiss messy and harsh as you bite down on the supple flesh of his lips; your hand goes up to tug off his headset, throwing it back on his desk and pulling him even closer— his game is quickly forgotten as he allows you to take over, already feeling the way your pussy soaks through his sweats as you begin to grind against him. 

And for once, you let yourself scold Taehyun as you ride him, hands tangled in his hair as you take in his eyes gloss and watch you in awe, irritated with the stupid coy smile he sports as he simply keeps his hands on your hips, helping your pace as he bucks up into you ever so often— stupid jerk, you would groan, milking him endlessly as you ignore the way your legs ache after who-knows-how-many rounds, still going as you take out your frustrations on him, you always have to get the upper hand, hmm? Just looove to get competitive?

He lets you get it out of your system quietly— but once you find yourself too tired to continue, he’ll give you a nice reminder on why it’s not a good idea to try to tease him.

[Hueningkai]

This poor boy… will genuinely just not do anything about it. He’s too meek and a severe overthinker, will just believe that you’re not doing any of this on purpose and that he really shouldn’t be looking too much into any of it. Your touchiness, the way you cling to him in public, your hand that somehow continuously finds itself on his thighs, massaging the sore muscles with deft hands as you simply smile at him cutely, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly at the feeling— no, you must not know how weak he gets from your touch, sporting tense smiles and forcing himself to not look at you for too long, because he thinks his thoughts might just stray if he has to take note of your low cut top any longer, or the skirt that is a bit too short as he always finds himself getting a little nervous every time he’s trailing behind you, mentally scolding himself to look at anything but the sway of your hips as you walk.

You must really underestimate the effect you have on him; at least, that’s what he believes, feeling his stomach twist with slight guilt as he has to take a moment to focus on not hardening pathetically at your every action— believing he’s being such a pervert for getting flustered at the way you continue to make eye contact as you lean on the kitchen counter, pretty lips parted and your tongue swirling around the popsicle you were just conveniently craving; feeling his face heat up at the way your tongue runs along it, eager to not let a single drop spill as you let our exaggerated groans of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, you’re simply trying your hardest not to laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend so tense before, his cheeks flushed and his lower half glued to the counter, away from your curious eyes that give him a curious look, asking him if he’s alright.

“Yeah,” he would reply, much too quick for it to seem natural, his smile tense as you raise a brow at the sight, “just… a little tired.”

Those words are enough to dig his grave; he’s found himself tangled up in your bed, halfway through a movie he can’t remember the name of as he simply wills himself to calm down— to ignore the way you nuzzle against him, straddling him and whispering softly that you think you’ll just take a nap— and he simply mutters out a soft okay, afraid out of his mind that you’ll feel the way he’s getting hard, (again, it’s been happening all day) tense as always as he simply gulps nervously. 

You’ve done everything to push his limits— so why hasn’t he said anything? The thought is enough to make you laugh, the feeling of your breath on Huening’s neck enough to make him shiver with sensitivity, and he’s unable to realize the way his arms have tightened around you, pulling you flush against his body as his cock begins to rut against your stomach, painfully hard as he tries to search for some relief.

“Huening, y’okay?” the moment you ask him that is the moment he’s falling apart, whining quietly into your skin and apologizing that he’s really not like this— that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, completely unaware that you’ve brought him to this point purposefully; poor baby is practically crying the moment you ask quietly if he wants you to take care of him, eyes glossing over the moment you begin to grind slowly against him.  Little did you know that all of that teasing would come with repercussions— because now, Huening is all pent up and needy, and you won’t be leaving the bed until it’s all out of his system; you’ll take it all though, won’t you? Be a good girl for him, okay?

[inc0gnitoo]

repost from ao3- modern au!scara x fem!reader

CW… smut, scara is mean, AFAB reader, phone sex, etc etc..

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

it almost seemed fucking impossible to you that a day could go this wrong.

it started with the bus this morning. you chose to get up earlier than usual, wanting time to work on your assignment thanks to your procrastinating it til the due date. this wasn’t new for you, and it didn’t bother you either! it worked. it was your system. until you got too caught up with your articles, and when your eyes drifted to the time, you had under 4 minutes to scurry over to your bus stop. and you didn’t even pack your bag yet. rushing out the door, stomach empty and sweat beading down your forehead you ran to the bus and- it was late.

it only got worse from there.

university was a place to be. only good thing it had was food. after your first lecture, you decided to spoil yourself to a bagel which was your second choice on the menu, they ran out of your favourite. begrudgingly, you made your way to class. the people being even more poisoning than the source material. ignorant hallway dwellers, come on, we’re in university people! a classmate took your unassigned-assigned seat, your eye twitching in frustration. and it was only 10am. finally, after a long day of excruciatingly boring classes. you managed to get home, only after getting caught in traffic on the highway. just your luck, you kept saying, your mind twisted with rage.

body filled to the brim with exhaustion, you collapsed to your bed, lazily tossing your bag to the side of your bed with a groan. finally, your bed. tonight was for yourself, you decided. what better to do after a shitty day? you deserved a break, not having any assignments due for a while, you finally had the opportunity to just lay down, and do absolutely nothi-

bzzt.

“mm?” you hummed, peering over to your phone beside you. a text message, from scaramouche. a classmate of yours from highschool who ended up going to the same university as you for a separate major, engineering or something along those lines. raising a brow you leaned over, taking your phone and reading his message.

scara: Didn’t come say hi to me today

scara: Kinda rude, if you ask me

rolling your eyes, you sat up in your bed, clicking on your lamp on your bedside table before typing out a response..

you: i didn’t have a very good day today

you: everything seemed to go wrong

scaramouche, at home, let out a hum of agreement at your reply. he knew that feeling all too well. especially when it came to people. they made him so sick, he didn’t know why he even bothered on taking this degree.

scara: Mm, I see

scara: Wanna call and talk about it?

heart warmed as his request, you stared at it for a moment. you were really just going to stay alone tonight, play some games or something, occupy yourself in other ways that didn’t involve people but.. it was scara. he knew better than most people how frustrating life can get. and he’d listen too, maybe with a grumble or two. or a rant about humanity, but, he’d hear you out after a few.. maybe, rude comments.

you: give me 1 sec

getting up you turned off the big light, not understanding why you’d punished yourself by keeping it on in the first place, especially with your lamp on. now, your room had a warmer atmosphere, more comfy, and overall more relaxing. turning on your humidifier you let out a sigh of contentment, changing into a pair of pyjamas and relaxing yourself back into your bed. taking your phone, you texted scara-

you: ready :P

barely a couple moments go by before your phone begins to vibrate, picking up the phone, “hey.” scaramouche greets you, his voice tired and monotone.

“hi, how was your day? before i start bitching about myself, haha.”

a groan is heard from his side of the phone and a short shuffle through the mic, seemingly from a shifting position, “ugh, long. i’m really starting to get tired of a few of my classmates, such insolent people..” he replied, eyes rolling. you imagined, at least, just from his tone.

“ah, you’re telling me..”

and the monologue began.

you weren’t sure just how long you were talking for or how frustrated you felt about the day. but it felt good getting it off your chest. relieving yourself with a bit of bitching is always the best comfort, you thought. scaramouche on the other hand.. seemed a bit, distracted. it didn’t seem like much to you, him not being as responsive as usual, a bit of a shuffle or two coming from his end, an ‘mm’ of agreement. that wasn’t necessarily off limits when it came to the question of ‘is scara acting weird?’ it was when you began to settle down a bit, your emotions returning back down, your anger beginning to lower that you heard a muffled murmur, almost spoken under his breath, “_____..”

what?

you almost froze in place, pulling the phone closer to your ear in an attempt to hear more but, to no avail. pondering whether or not you should, you spoke, “scara?”

a hurried movement, slightly covering the mic, scaramouche spoke up, “yeah, yeah- i’m here.” he mumbled. physically of course he was, there to listen for her. but mentally, scaramouches mind had travelled to other places. his voice betrayed him in that way, sounding almost strained and the husk of his voice easily portraying just how distracted he was.

innocently, you spoke up, “y-you just.. sound tense, is all. are you alright?”

foolish you were, he thought. such an idiot, not being able to read his tone, understand the shuffling and the movement, the whispery gasps he’d been letting out unintentionally. by god, he was beyond grateful you were this oblivious, the excitement of your cluelessness almost encouraged these bad thoughts to begin with.

“yeah, i-i’m fine.” scaramouche stuttered, “you don’t worry about me..” a few sounds, another heavy breath, “just keep talking all cute like that.”

what..? (again.)

what was happening right now? he had befuddled you, thoughts rolling through your brain attempting (and failing) to find a reason for his odd behaviour. scaramouche was a very, very closed off guy. and not one for compliments. of course, you’d get one from him every once a while, earning a ‘wow, you actually managed to do that,.’ or a ‘yeah, good job.’

but, cute..?

your question left your head, coming out your mouth, “cute?”

a shudder ran down scaramouches body, a bead of sweat, and a wave of warmth down his groin. so stupid, he thought, so so stupid. he loved it, “ah- uh huh.” he affirmed your question, a small curse leaving his breath, a sound of readjustment, switching his phone to another hand.

your brows furrowed, starting to get a little frustrated now, “why are you being so-“

“stop asking so many questions, just fucking talk.”

he bit his lip, a sharp intake of breath before it, sounding restrained and almost.. uncomfortable. you had absolutely no idea the strain he was putting himself through, the cause of all this until-

it clicked.

was he.. masturbating?

“scara, a-are you..?” it was silent for a moment. the only sounds were not just of your own heavy breath, but scaramouches as well, heavy pants that you now realize were not just in your head. these, this time, did not go unnoticed.

finally, after a billowing and agonizing silence, scaramouche breathed in, speaking up..

“yeah..” he exhaled, finally accepting he’d been caught. part of him had a sick obsession with you being as lost as you were, but perhaps your knowledge of him getting himself off to your voice was enough too. if you’d just stay there, keep talking, he wouldn’t be a bother. except he was being a bother, gasping and breathing into your ear like that. over the phone, it almost made it worse.

your mind had begun to drift, and you spoke, softly, “i-i-..”you struggled to form words, a reaction, a response, but he spoke for you.

“cmon… speak up..” scaramouche whispered, breathy, so so breathy. it was almost incoherent from how sharp he was breathing. his hand sped up, you could tell, hearing the shuffling increase over the mic. your heart began to pound.

“do..” hesitating, you bit your lip. was this about to be a huge mistake? “do you want me to help you?”

a groan left his mouth, his head fell back onto his pillow, trying his hardest not to moan instead. “fuck, yes. please.”

nearly choking on your own spit you attempted to speak, placing your hand to your chest to feel your own heartbeat, pounding so hard in your chest. this all felt fake. like, you were about to wake up from some sick fucking fantasy. a dream.

pulse quickening, you parted your lips to speak, “y-you sound so hot right now..”

scaramouches breath hitched, a moan caught in his throat.

okay, maybe he was grateful you figured it out.

his hand pawed at his boxers, finally deciding to tug them off, stroking the tip of his cock. his anticipation was evident in how hard he was, the pre-cum sliding down the sides of his length. how fucking humiliating, he thought. he watched his own hand as he began to stroke himself, thoughts of it being your own. those pretty little hands of yours. the idea in his head had been haunting him. scaramouche was obsessed with you. and had been since highschool. you were so smart, so innocent, and oblivious to him. he swore he was going crazy, when he’d go home, masturbate to the thought of you.

“ohoh, yeah?” scaramouche whispered, his breathing only quickening further as he heard a shift from your end.

that shift.. was you sliding your hand into your shorts, teasing your clit with your fingers through your underwear, almost feeling guilty giving yourself the pleasure of touching it bare. “u-uh huh..” you murmured, shamefully. it was going to eat you alive.

“maybe..” scaramouche begins, his voice mellow and hushed, “maybe i wanna hear you too…” your heart stops, he heard you.

“i know what you're doing right now.”

your hand not daring to stop, even almost speeding up from his tone of voice, the movement was definitely heard over your mic. this made scaramouche smirk, a sigh of satisfaction as he continued.

“tell me, ____. what are you doing to yourself?”

moaning quietly, nervously, with much hesitation and an evident feeling of lust, you managed to speak, “i-i’m.. touching..” you cut yourself off, a whispered gasp as you rubbed at the sensitive nerve, an eye closing from pleasure. scaramouche, what are you doing to me? you kept repeating in your mind. you were a mess because of a fucking voice over the phone. is this how desperate you’ve become?

but it wasn’t just any voice. it was scaramouches. and if he kept talking to you like that you’d listen to it all day.

“yeah? ngh- s-slowly? or fast..?” scaramouche moaned, a bit of a whimper in his throat.

“slowly, slowly..” you echoed yourself, breathing out a held exhale of air, “w-wanna savour this..” admitting to your feelings, you found yourself forming a knot in your groin. this exhale, that erotic breathy noise from you, is enough to earn you a soft moan from scaramouche on the other line.

he stiffened at your words, eyes screwed shut at the image he’d burned into his mind of you. yearning to hear more, he spoke up again, his hand beginning a slow pace as he stroked his cock, “oh, fuck. you wanna savour me..” he grinded his teeth, jaw shifting, “how does that feel, ah? good?” his voice is condescending, low and almost.. degrading, picturing you beneath him as he speaks. believing you as something below him, both physically and sexually.

”ahg-mhm..” you breathlessly agreed, “feels good, scara.” slowly, you overcame that guilt. that fear, it didn’t matter anymore. he wanted this. he wanted you. that thought was enough to allow yourself to feel it too, slipping your hand into your underwear and sliding a finger between your wet folds, a gasp escaping you.

biting his lip so hard he could draw blood, he held back a soft whimper, the sound of his name spoken from your lips like that. it was driving him crazy how the only thing keeping him from you was this damn phone. a short laughter came from him, low and raspy, “nngh, yeah… so good. you sound so good..” he spoke, managing to keep his voice just at a level enough for you to hear him. hear his want. his need for you.

a curse fell out of your lips, “fuck, ah..” drawing a faster circle on your clit, your mind began to slip. slipping to places you wish you were, positions you wish scaramouche was holding you in. what his hand would feel like doing this to you instead. and the lewd noises being caused by him instead, not just you rutting weakly into your own palm. his voice was so hoarse, just a little whiny, sending a rush of blood to your head. he’d have you against the wall, slamming into you from behind-

“god, i’d give anything to be there right now. under my hands, fuck, all the pretty noises you’d make.”

immediately a moan exhaled from your chest, “a-ah, yeah.” you moaned, “want your hands on me..” in your head, they already were! all over you, his mouth too! saying more of those things to you, right in your ear, spoken through hushed whispers and gritting teeth.

scaramouche could feel it in every single bone in his body. every fucking last drop of his blood wanted to hear you scream his name. his grip tightened oh his phone, a scratchy moan coming through the microphone. “ohh..” he laughed breathily, stretching out into a whiny moan as his cock hardened to the touch of his hand, his pace speeding, “you sound so pathetic, such sweet sweet sounds..”

you could hear him, so lewd and filthy, his hips were bucking subconsciously into his own hand. in his mind too, you were there. not just in his ear, “fuck, i bet you look so dirty right now, fucking yourself on your hand.”

“please, scara,” you whined, rolling your hips, causing a muffle over your mic, an irritated groan comes from him. if you’re gonna be doing this, why aren’t you paying attention? he needs to hear every fucking word.

“can’t hear you. louder.”

“scara.” you moaned. god, that voice of yours was intoxicating.

“oh, the way it just rolls off your tongue-ughn..”

scaramouche whimpered, the sounds leaving his lips just above a whimper, words becoming impossible to form. his mind was blanking, fogging with lustful ideas and thoughts, possessed by his craving for you, “are you close? god, tell me you’re close. i can hear it.. the way you’re whining.”

responding with only a moan, your wrist beginning to ache from how vigorously you slid your fingers in and out of yourself, your other beginning to shake while holding your phone to your ear. you didn’t even consider the possibility of moving it away, wanting-no, needing to have his voice right in your ear. more than just in your head. it was here now, he was doing this. with you. just if only he was physically here.. but right now, that didn’t matter.

scaramouches voice alone was bringing you to the edge and he himself knew that too, utilizing his tone in such a way he knew it would tip you over. he wanted you to do this over and over and over, beg him to touch you, to do anything to you, and he’d do that til he was satisfied. maybe he’d even let you touch his cock if you asked nicely. having you do it yourself, instead of his hand.

grunting out a moan, you spoke, “mmfg, yes, scara,” whining, breathing, tears stinging at your eyes, “please-ngh, don’t stop talking.”

“ugh, i-i won’t, won’t-fuck.” forcing more harsh words out of his mouth, scaramouche lets his eyes flutter shut, pumping his cock like it was the last thing he’d ever touch, wishing it was your body instead. he’d be happy dying inside of you. feeling you clenching, tightening around him, grinding down on him in a needy, feverish manner. his grip fastened on his hardness, a guttural moan escaping his lips, “these fucking hands of mine would make you feel so good, ____.”

“y-yes! yes, please! need them so bad, need them instead-ah!” you gasped. now you knew your neighbors would be mad. this apartment was not thick enough for this. imagine if he was in your room now, too. your face pressed into your sheets, fuck, probably against your door knowing him. he wouldn’t give you the chance to lay down. you’d be scraping paint off the wall. and skin off his back. this was too much. all too much. too much too much-

“i’ll have you, ngh- screaming on my cock after this. just you wait-“ interrupting his own monologue with a hoarse moan, his hand pumping a delicious pace on his dick, he threw his head back, “cum, _____. do it already. do it with me.”

almost at his words, treating them like it was an order your body gave out on your, back arching in a cramp inducing position, cumming on your hand just like he instructed. that knot released, sending waves upon waves of a much needed climax, “pleasepleaseplease- scara!”

you were reeling in ecstacy, and from the sounds scaramouche was making, you were sure he was too.

scaramouche found himself reeling on his hand, his orgasm coming just as yours did, throbbing with cum. curses left his mouth, a mess of words and your name and other things you couldn’t pick up over the ringing of your own ears. his hand loosened its grip, weakly falling to his side as he panted almost erratically, a round of silence filling the call with nothing but breathing from both ends. it was scara that spoke first, his voice a bit weak, cracky, “was that good?”

breathing out, struggling to respond, “oh.. oh yeah. for sure.” you affirmed, sliding your hand out of your shorts. the exhaustion returned now, after the pleasure.

as if he sensed it, he spoke up once more.. “don’t get comfortable. i’m coming over.”

…okay. maybe your day didn’t go that wrong.

[yngtort]

— testing 1! 2!

chan | lino | changbin | hyun | jisung | lix | seungmin | jeongin | ot8

NSFW ★

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Xfem!reader straykids reactions to you : tapping the tip and saying “is this mic on???” Mdni • humiliation • degrading • slight dumbification (laugh guys it’s supposed to be funny)

Nsfw under !!

bangchan! Finds it funny as hell. He’s such a sucker for corny jokes, even when he’s painfully hard, dick leaking precum all over your lips.

“Trust me baby, the mics been turned on from the moment you walked in dressed like that.” he’d say before tapping your chin, “now open wide.”

Minho! Blinks a couple times, before he lets out that little puff of air that he does before his lips turn up into a smirk. “That’s real cute and all,” he says grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, “but let’s use your mouth for more productive things, yeah?”

changbin! Doesn’t even get the joke at first. Too excited to get sucked bone dry, you should’ve known that it would go straight over his head. “y/n-ah, you know I can’t focus on two things at once” he’d whine, nudging his dick against your cheek, “explain it to me later, Kay?”

But you won’t be able to speak a single word after he fucked your throat raw.

hyunjin! shuts you up with his dick immediately. He’s so fed up with your constant yapping, never taking anything seriously. “Your mouth is the reason you’re down there in the first place,” he bites as he shoves himself deeper, “stop acting dumb and learn when you need to be heard.”

Jisung! Is more amused than you thought he would be. You watch from your position under his desk as Soft snickers fall from his lips. “Since you’re having so much fun,” he starts, spreading his legs wider to give you more room to sit between them, “lets up the ante and see if you can sing a song with my mic down your throat.”

Felix! eyes light up hearing your words, micheavous smirk growing on his lips and you inadvertently gulp. “this mic sn’t working at the moment,” he says before pulling out his phone, flash flicking on, bright and beaming. “But this one works perfectly. Go on, show the guys how loud and sloppy you get.”

Seungmin! Presses his lips into a the thinnest line he can muster. Your joke completely blows his mood, making him push your head away. “On the bed,” He instructed and you comply, no questions asked. “We’re gonna skip the foreplay tonight. I need to fuck the stupidity out of you.”

Jeongin! Is sooo confused but laughs anyways, not wanting to let you know he doesn’t get what you’re saying. you obviously notice his ignorance which makes you want to tease him more. Taking his member into you hand and singing a song, lips brushing against the tip and making him whimper. “S-stop it. I get it, I get it!” he’d cry out, bucking his hips desperately. “No more jokes, y/n. I need you s’bad.”

Nnii : just a lil sumn bc I was bored :D !! Hope you liked it <3.

Tinaytag (comment to be added) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @panjakes @foxinnie8 @inniescandy-01 @luvyev @hyunjinhoexxx @caitlyn98s