#them singing perfectly in sync | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hans-wh0re · 3 months ago

Text

DEVOTION |

Pairing: Bf! Chan x gf afab reader C.W: Established Relationship, Soft Dom Chan, Fingering, Mild Daddy Kink, Penetrative Sex, Overstimulation, Brief Mention of Bite Marks, Some good aftercare (i hope)….. A.N: Just was in the mood for something soft (?). M so bad at writing soft things lmao. Again, don't have high expectations!

"...that's it," Chan breathes, the words a rough prayer against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His voice is low, guttural, thick with the reverence he only shows when he has you like this – utterly vulnerable, utterly his to care for, to pleasure, to break down. You're sprawled back against a mountain of pillows on the bed, legs spread wide for him, hips slightly elevated by the cushion he meticulously placed beneath you moments ago. Every nerve ending is alive, singing under the anticipation, under the weight of his intense, worshipful gaze.

He kneels between your legs, not touching you yet, just looking. His eyes, usually warm and crinkled with laughter, are dark now, almost black, pupils blown wide with focused adoration and simmering control. He takes his time, deliberately cataloging every detail – the flush high on your thighs, the way your breath hitches in your chest, the glistening dew already beading at your entrance, offered up just for him. This slow, visual consumption is part of the ritual, part of his service, making you hyper-aware, making you ache.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, finally reaching out. Not with his hands, not yet. He leans forward, his hair brushing against your inner thigh as he presses a soft, reverent kiss high up, near the juncture of your leg and hip. Then another, slightly lower. He works his way down, slow, deliberate kisses punctuating his progress, leaving trails of tingling heat in their wake. He noses at the damp curls protecting your mound, inhaling deeply, possessively. "Smell so fucking good," he groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. "So sweet. "

His tongue darts out, finally, tracing the outer lips with painstaking slowness, mapping your folds, tasting your readiness. You gasp, fingers fisting in the sheets beside you, already starting to tremble. He ignores your reaction for a moment, continuing his worshipful exploration, lapping gently, deliberately avoiding the most sensitive spot, drawing out the torture and building the need.

"Open for me, baby," he whispers against your slick flesh. "Show me how wet you are. Show me how much you want this." It’s a command disguised as a plea, and you obey instantly, letting your legs fall wider, offering yourself up completely to his ministrations.

He rewards you with a low hum of approval before finally focusing his attention where you ache for it most. His tongue flicks out, finding your clit. Not hard, not demanding, but with an exquisite, almost unbearable precision. He swirls around it, laves it gently, uses the flat of his tongue to apply broad, wet strokes that make your hips lift instinctively off the pillow.

"Mmmm, yeah," he breathes, pressing his face closer, deeper between your thighs. "Taste so good. Like mine." He flicks harder now, faster, finding a rhythm that syncs perfectly with the frantic pounding of your heart. He uses his lips too, creating a gentle suction around the swollen nub, pulling, tugging, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure radiating through your entire body.

You're panting now, incoherent little whimpers falling from your lips. Your hands reach down, tangling in his soft hair, not to push him away, but to hold him there, closer, needing more. He allows it, leaning into your touch, but his hands come up, gently but firmly capturing your wrists, pinning them to the pillows beside your head.

"Uh-uh, baby girl," he murmurs against your clit, his voice thick with control now, the earlier reverence giving way to delicious dominance. "Hands stay right here. Can't have you distracting me from my work, can I?" He punctuates the words by sucking harder, pulling your entire clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue relentlessly around the ultra-sensitive peak.

A sharp cry rips from your throat. It’s too much, unbearably good. Your vision whites out for a second. He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows precisely how to push you right to the edge with just his mouth, his tongue, his meticulous, worshipful attention that somehow feels more controlling than any rough demand.

He feels you starting to build towards release, feels the subtle clenching of your inner muscles and the way your breath hitches and quickens. He pulls back slightly, just enough to break the intense suction, leaving you whining, suspended in agonizing anticipation.

“Not yet,” he whispers, licking a slow, deliberate path from your clit down towards your entrance. He noses at your slick folds, inhaling deeply again. “Haven’t even tasted how deep you get for me.”

Before you even can protest, his tongue plunges inside you. Thick, strong and surprisingly long. He explores your inner walls with shocking intimacy, tasting your slickness, learning the tight channel that usually only his cock gets to know. He swirls, presses upwards against your G-spot drawing lazy circles. You gasp, hips bucking wildly now, straining against the phantom pressure, utterly helpless.

He moves back to your clit, tongue flicking rapidly, expertly, while simultaneously—fuck—he slides two fingers deep inside you. Stretching you, filling you, pumping in a steady rhythm that perfectly complements the frantic work his tongue is doing. The dual stimulation is insane. Overload. You feel the orgasm rushing towards you like a freight train, unstoppable.

“That’s it,” Chan breathes against your skin, his voice rough with his own barely contained arousal. He can feel you trembling violently, feel the way your cunt is clenching desperately around his fingers. “Let go for me, baby. Cum all over my face. Show me how good I make you feel.”

His fingers pump faster, harder inside you, while his tongue becomes a merciless blur against your clit. You scream, a raw, broken sound this time, as the orgasm finally crashes over you, hot and shattering. Your body convulses uncontrollably, inner walls milking his fingers, hot slickness flooding out, coating his chin and his cheeks. You feel utterly undone, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, lost in the consuming intensity of the release he so expertly orchestrated.

He doesn’t stop immediately. He keeps his fingers moving inside you, keeps his tongue pressed firmly against your still-pulsing clit, riding out the aftershocks with you, ensuring you feel every last tremor. Only when your frantic whimpers subside into soft, exhausted sighs does he finally withdraw, pulling his fingers out with a wet, sucking sound.

He lifts his head, pushing his damp hair back from his forehead. His face is flushed, lips slightly swollen, eyes dark and hooded with sated desire. Your slickness glistens on his chin, maybe even a smear near his temple. He looks utterly debauched. Utterly beautiful.

He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your quivering inner thigh, right beside the evidence of your release. Then he looks up at you, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“See?” he whispers, his voice thick with possessive tenderness. “Told you I’d take care of you.” He reaches up, gently wiping a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Always taste best when you’re completely falling apart for me.” He pauses, letting his gaze drift down to his own lap, where his cock strains visibly against the fabric of his sweatpants, thick and undeniably hard. “Ready for me to return the favor?”

You're still trembling in the aftermath, muscles quivering, skin hypersensitive, cunt throbbing with a residual ache that’s more pleasure than pain. You stare up at him through hazy, blissed-out eyes, watching the blatant evidence of his arousal tenting the front of his grey sweatpants. The sight sends another wave of heat, less frantic now, more of a deep, pooling warmth, through your belly. You can only manage a weak, shaky nod in response to his question. Ready? You feel like you might liquefy if he touches you again, but god, yes. You're ready. You need it.

He smiles that slow, knowing smile again, the one that makes your insides melt. "Good girl," he murmurs. He doesn't rush. He reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving a small bottle of lube – not because you need it, fuck no, you're practically dripping for him – but because he likes the ritual, likes the feel of the cool slickness on his fingers before he touches you again.

He pumps a generous amount onto his hand, rubbing his palms together, warming it slightly. Then, those warm, slick fingers return to you. He spreads your folds gently, deliberately exposing your swollen, pink entrance, still glistening from your earlier orgasm. He circles the opening with one slick finger, teasingly, making you squirm and whine softly beneath his touch.

"So wet," he praises quietly, his voice thick with appreciation. "Always so ready for me." He slides one finger inside, easily finding the slick channel his previous ministrations prepared. Then a second, stretching you slightly, moving slowly, deliberately reacquainting himself with your inner contours. "Feels so fucking good, baby. So tight."

He adds a third finger, pushing deeper now, knuckles pressing firmly against your clit with each inward stroke. You gasp, hips lifting off the pillows again, chasing the sensation. He curls his fingers inside you, finding that sensitive spot high on your front wall, and applies steady, rhythmic pressure.

"Right there?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the way your breath hitches and the way your inner muscles clench around his invading digits. "You like it when Daddy presses right there?"

This time the title doesn't feel cringy. It feels... right. Earned. Acknowledging the power dynamic, the absolute control he has over your pleasure right now. "Yes," you choke out, voice trembling. "Please... Chan... Daddy... yes..."

Hearing you say it, hearing the desperation, the surrender in your voice, makes his own cock give a hard jump beneath his sweatpants. A low groan escapes him. He works his fingers faster now, pumping in and out, using his thumb to mercilessly rub your clit in frantic circles. He brings you up quickly, efficiently, building the pressure again until you're writhing beneath him, whimpering his name, begging.

"Almost there again, aren't you?" he whispers, leaning down, his forehead pressing against yours. Sweat beads on his upper lip. "So easy for me to make you come apart." He slows his fingers slightly, dragging out the torture. "But you want my cock now, don't you? Want to feel me stretching you open? Filling you up completely?"

"Yes! Please, yes!" you sob, utterly desperate now.

"Good," he breathes against your lips. He pulls his slick fingers out, leaving you aching and empty for only a heartbeat. He quickly shucks off his sweatpants and briefs, revealing his cock fully. Thick, long, vein-ridden, head glistening pink and weeping pre-cum. It’s beautiful. Intimidating. Perfect.

He positions himself between your spread thighs again, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. He doesn't thrust in immediately. He pushes just the tip inside, stretching you slightly, letting you feel the blunt pressure. He watches your face intently, watches your eyes flutter shut, watches your lips part on a shaky sigh.

"Take me," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. He places his hands flat on your stomach, pressing down slightly, holding you in place. Then, slowly, deliberately, inch by agonizing inch, he pushes himself inside you.

It's an incredible feeling. Stretching, filling, a satisfying pressure that borders on pain but tips entirely into overwhelming pleasure. You gasp, eyes flying open, fingers digging into the sheets as he sinks deeper, and deeper, until he's buried completely to the hilt, stretching you fuller than his fingers ever could. He holds himself there, perfectly still for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting you both savor the feeling of absolute connection, of him completely possessing you.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping his head back, eyes closed now, a look of pure bliss mixed with intense concentration on his face. "Feels... incredible, baby. Always."

Then, he starts to move. Slow, deep, deliberate thrusts. Pulling out almost completely, feeling the drag of your inner walls clinging to him, before sinking back in with exquisite slowness, ensuring you feel every inch, every ridge, every vein. It’s not rushed. It's sensual. Controlled. Each movement is precise, aimed at maximizing the friction, the deep pressure against your cervix and the stimulation of your G-spot.

He whispers praises constantly now against your ear. "That's it... take my cock... feel how deep I am inside you... such a good girl... gripping me so tight... fuck, you feel perfect..." His words, combined with the slow, deep fucking, are driving you insane. The pleasure builds again, slower this time, deeper, coiling heavily in your core.

He senses it. He always does. He quickens his pace slightly, thrusts becoming deeper, harder, hitting that perfect spot again and again. His hands find your hips, gripping tight, tilting you just right, angling himself for maximum impact. His breath comes in harsh pants now, the control slipping slightly as his own pleasure builds.

"Chan... Daddy... I'm..." you gasp, feeling the familiar signs, the tightening low in your belly, the trembling in your thighs.

"Yeah, baby, F-uckkk, I know," he pants back, his forehead slick with sweat, pressing against yours again. "Cum for me again. Let me feel you break around my cock." He pounds into you, faster now, harder, abandoning the slow control for raw, driving need. He watches your face crumple, hears your breath shatter into ragged cries as the orgasm rips through you, even more intense this time, fueled by the sheer fullness of him inside you, milking him shamelessly.

Your climax triggers his. And with a final, guttural roar, he drives deep one last time, burying himself as far as he can possibly go, and floods you with his release. Hot, thick spurts pump inside you, coating your inner walls, filling you completely. He groans your name, shuddering violently, collapsing onto you, pinning you beneath his spent weight, his heart hammering against yours.

He stays buried inside you for long, languid moments, letting the echoes of both your orgasms fade, feeling the gentle pulse of your cunt settling around him. His breathing slowly evens out, the harsh pants softening into deep, steady breaths against your ear. He doesn't pull out immediately; there’s a possessive comfort in just being there, connected, filling you.

Finally, with exquisite slowness that makes your muscles clench weakly one last time, he withdraws, leaving you feeling hollowed out but strangely complete. He doesn't just roll away. No, Chan’s aftercare is as meticulous and focused as his fucking.

He props himself up on one elbow, his other hand immediately coming up to gently cup your cheek. His thumb strokes softly across your damp skin, wiping away a lingering tear track you hadn’t even realized was there. His eyes, still dark but no longer holding that fierce intensity, are incredibly soft now, filled with a profound tenderness that makes your heart ache in a completely different way.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice low and gentle, still slightly rough from exertion but stripped of all command. "You with me, baby girl?"

You manage a weak nod, blinking up at him through heavy lids, feeling utterly boneless, utterly cared for.

He smiles, a soft, genuine curve of his lips. "Good," he murmurs leaning down, and pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your temple, then the corner of your eye where the tear was. Each touch is impossibly gentle, worshipful. "You were incredible," he whispers against your skin. "Absolutely perfect for me. Took everything I gave you like a fucking dream."

The praise, so different in tone from the filthy demands earlier, still sends a warm flutter through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze drifting down your body, taking in the flushed skin, the faint bite mark already purpling on your shoulder from before, and the slickness still glistening on your inner thighs. There's no judgment in his eyes, only appreciation. Adoration, even.

"So beautiful," he breathes. "All messy and mine." He reaches for the rumpled duvet, pulling it gently over your lower body, tucking it around your hips with careful hands, cocooning you in warmth.

He slips off the bed, padding quietly towards the ensuite. You hear the sound of water running. He returns moments later with a warm, damp washcloth, smelling faintly of the gentle soap he uses. He kneels beside the bed again, his movements unhurried, focused entirely on you.

"Lift up a little for me, sweetheart," he murmurs. He helps you shift slightly, then begins to gently clean you. His touch is reverent as he wipes away the mingled fluids from your inner thighs, the slickness from your stomach, the drying come from his own body that might have transferred onto you. He's careful around your still-sensitive clit, his touch light, respectful, a silent apology for the earlier intensity. There's no shame in his actions, only care. It feels incredibly intimate, profoundly soothing.

Once he's finished, he tosses the cloth aside and retrieves a soft towel, drying you with the same gentle care. His fingers linger on the angry red bite mark on your shoulder. Before he leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right onto the mark. "Mine," he whispers again, the word now purely possessive tenderness.

He pulls a clean, oversized t-shirt – his t-shirt – from his drawer and helps you sit up, sliding it carefully over your head. It smells like him, clean and comforting, engulfing you in his scent, before he guides your arms through the sleeves, his fingers brushing softly against your skin.

He disappears again, returning with a glass of water. "Drink," he urges softly, holding it to your lips, helping you take small sips, and watches you intently, making sure you're okay, his brow furrowed slightly with concern now, the dominant edge completely replaced by gentle solicitude.

Finally, he slides back into bed beside you, pulling you carefully against his side. He wraps his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin, his body still warm and solid against yours. He doesn't initiate anything more, just holds you, his hand stroking slowly, rhythmically, up and down your back.

"Just rest now, baby," he murmurs into your hair. "You earned it." He presses a final kiss to the top of your head. "Did so good for me. Always do."

And wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his scent, lulled by the steady beat of his heart against your ear and the soft cadence of his quiet praise, you finally drift off, feeling utterly cherished, utterly safe, utterly his.

A.N: This was unexpectedly long, sorry. M not 100% satisfied by how this turned out (i told u m so bad at writing soft things bye i wanna cry), but yeah posting it is better than letting it rot in my drafts. Anyways, plz be nice in the comments 🥹🥹

#skz #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan stray kids #christopher bang #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids bangchan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan stray kids #bang chan imagines

1K notes · View notes

notearsnora · 17 days ago

Text

Wicked Music producer Greg Wells talked with Variety about Cynthia’s and Ariana’s For Good:

And I’m looking at the waveforms, and Ariana’s track was on top and Cynthia’s was just below it in ProTools. And I noticed that the shape of the vibrato on both, which shows up as sort of like a bumpy thing — it looked identical on both tracks. And if someone says a word like “timing” with this, that shows up as a really defined bit of the sound wave, and you see it very visually; it’s really obvious. And that stuff was so tight, it almost looked like someone had edited it to be synced up almost perfectly. But it is literally just how they sang it live in the room. And it kept happening and happening. I took a screenshot of this particular couple of bars. I can show you the photo. I sent it to them both that night, on Nov. 2, and I wrote, “I had to take a photo of this ‘cause it’s nuts. This is both of you singing on ‘For Good.’ Look how the timing, the dynamics, even the vibrato is almost identically in sync. No one could try to do this. I don’t think I’ve seen/heard anything like this.” They both were so happy and couldn’t believe that was happening. Ari suggested I color-code the waveforms to represent each character. If they tried to do that, I’m not sure they could do it — I don’t think anybody could — but it just kept happening all the time.

#wicked #wicked movie #wicked for good #ariana grande #cynthia erivo #wicked the musical #glinda upland #dailygrande #elphaba thropp #galinda upland #gelphie

530 notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 4 months ago

Text

The Story of Us: Chapter 4

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 4 of 5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky.

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia and changed some of the results of races.

a/n5: sorry this one took so long! Been dealing with some stuff

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Valentine’s Day

y/n

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 17,824,192 others

y/n: the vault is open and it’s treasures are yours.

In the process of writing and polishing up my albums, certain songs have been put aside, treasured but not shown the light. Now it’s time that changed — time for the secrets to come out.

view all comments

user1: oh my god yes

↳user2: banger after banger after banger

↳user1: as always!

oscarpiastri: why must I suffer…

↳logansargeant: 🤣🤣

↳landonorris: I don’t like your tone young man

↳oscarpiastri: you are 2 years older than me

↳landonorris: respect your elders!

↳oscarpiastri: whatever you say old man

↳oscarpiastri: as long as you stop squawking about the garage trying to sing

↳user3: so brutal…

↳landonorris: YOU MUPPET

user4: FAVORITE SONG? And if it isn’t All Too Well (10 minute version) you’re wrong

↳user5: Electric Touch!

↳charles_leclerc: timeless!

↳maxverstappen1: say don’t go

↳user6: babe!

↳pierregasly: is it over now?

↳carlossainz55: you all over me

↳lilymhe: Slut!

↳user7: better man obviously

↳alex_albon: Mr. Perfectly Fine

↳alexandrasaintmleux: when Emma falls in love

user8: she still has the grid all up in her comments…

↳logansargeant: they were fighting in the group chat on who’s the biggest fan

↳user8:😂😂 drag them!

↳alex_albon: mate…

↳logansargeant: it was 3:30 in the morning and I couldn’t sleep because of your stupid fight idk anymore

user9: this is the best thing happening so far this year

↳user10: right? Better then some sitcoms

user19: secrets come to light!?!?

↳user53: they’re totally gonna reveal themselves soon right?

↳user19: within the week is my guess!!!

↳user11: you guys are freakishly in sync

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

f1gossip

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, estebanocon and 92,913 others

tagged: georgerussell63, lewishamilton, landonorris, oscarpiastri, estebanocon, pierregasly, maverstappen1, hulkhulkenburg, kevinmagnussen, alex_albon, logansargeant, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc

f1gossip: I Can See You…talking about y/n and her newest album! The fanstage this weekend at Imola was full of people asking the drivers their thoughts on y/n, her newest album, the Eras tour, and even their thoughts on her emerging relationship!

view all comments

user12: one of the best fan stages ever

user13: worth getting up at the ass crack of dawn to watch

user14: I think you mean it was full of them getting asked a tangentially related question and yapping nonstop about her until someone managed to cut in?

↳user15: thank god I wasn’t the only to catch that…

↳user14: you’d have to be blind deaf and dumb to miss is…

↳user16: that’s describing about 50% of the grid when talking or thinking about y/n then…

↳user14: 😂😂😂

user17: poor Oscar, Logan, and Nico looked so done

↳user18: if the past is to be believed, Oscar probably spent the last week listening to Lando try to belt out the entire album…

↳user20: oh dear 🤣

↳user18: and as user19 says…Logan has been dealing with the grid and their girlfriends flirt with his girlfriend for a couple of months now.

↳user19: I vote he just goes bowling this weekend. Knock them all out liked by not_y/n, not_logan, not_oscar

user19

liked by user53, user, user and 18,012 others

user19: I’m guessing the Logan and y/n relationship reveal is happening very very VERY soon. Tonight all of y/n’s outfits were of the blue variety (excluding, of course, the reputation bodysuit and Red combos). I’m guessing she wore blue to publicly support Logan (especially after that shit vowles pulled in Australia). My guess is this weekend — after tonight she has a 5 day break (enough time to jet over to Italy for Sunday’s race and still make it back for the start of the New York shows)

view all comments

user21: I believe it

↳user22: after the last few months of following along with the crazy conspiracy theories…yeah I do too

↳user19: y’all should have just believed me in the first place!

user23: if she shows up at Imola, I’m gonna scream!

↳user24: imagining her as a wag…

↳user25: let’s be real — Logan is still the wag in that relationship 😂😂

↳user24: that’s true!

user26: oh my god I can’t wait! My family has been Williams Racing fans for years — even more fans to join the family

↳user27: oh I can’t wait for her fans to drag vowles through the mud…

↳user26: …yes that’s also a big plus. He desperately needs an attitude adjustment

Bluesky

user28: SHE JUST CHANGED RHE LURICS

↳user29: FOR REAL????

↳user28: FOR REAL!!!

user30: my stream cut!! what happened!!!!

↳user31: SHE CHANGED TBE LYRICS!!!

↳user30: what lyrics???

↳user31: Karma! “Karma is the guy on the tracks coming straight home to me”

↳user30: OH MY GOD

user19: I WAS RIGHT. I KNEW IT. ITS HAPPENING!!

↳user53: congrats baby!!

↳user32: WAIT WHAT

↳user33: BABY??? YOU GUYS ARE DATING NOW??

not_oscar: oh my god this is like throwing fire on gasoline…

↳not_y/n: oh yeah prepare yourself. I’m coming to Imola

↳not_lilyz: really??

↳not_y/n: yes! Want me to stop in England?

↳not_lilyz: please!

↳not_oscar: I’ll set a ticket aside for you lily liked by not_lily

↳not_logan: oh I can’t wait

↳not_y/n: …it’s been a long time coming?

↳not_oscar: ugh

↳not_y/n: come on it was right there!! liked by not_logan, not_lilyz

user34: omg i literally can’t wait for Imola now!!

↳user35: she’s gonna slay it!

y/n

liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri, yoursister, and 19,283,913 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: I’ve loved you for 14 summers now but I want them all.

view all comments

user36: oh my god

↳user37: 14 YEARS

logansargeant: you’ll have them all

↳y/n: just like I planned

↳user38: because you’re a mastermind?

↳y/n: 😊😊

↳logansargeant: MY mastermind

↳user39: oh you guys are the type to be publicly gross aren’t you

↳oscarpiastri: yes

alex_albon: WHAT

lilymhe: Oh dear…

alexandrasaintmleux: 😳😳

iamrebeccad: Oh!

user40: ok now that this is out of the way…release the baby photos please

↳y/n: 😊😉

↳logansargeant: what??? NO

user19: hem hem??

↳user41: yes yes yes. You’re right, we’re wrong

↳user41: BUT COUPLE OF THE YEAR HERE!!

user42: never thought I’d be involved in something that broke the internet…

user43: ARE YOU GUYS MARRIED &/OR ENGAGED???

↳y/n: No we’re not

↳logansargeant: yet

↳y/n: 😳😳

Private Messages, the Grid (Unserious)

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 17,284,824 others

tagged: logansargeant, williamsracing

y/n: Imola you are so beautiful — thank you for treating my man right.

Logan, my love, congratulations on the points. It was lovely to see you chase your dream

comments have been restricted on this post

logansargeant: it was one of the best days of my life having you here. thank you for coming out in the middle of your tour

↳y/n: there is nowhere else I’d rather be than right by your side

↳y/n: no matter where that might be

oscarpiastri: it was good to see you again!

↳y/n: you as well Oscar! And congrats on the podium — it was a well deserved 2nd place

lilyzneimer: thanks for the ride! It was good to catch up with you again

↳y/n: it’s always a good day when I get to talk to you Lily!

yoursister: ummm some warning next time! That’s 2 times now — I wanna go to a race too!

↳y/n: next time for sure

↳y/n: I have breaks for Montreal or Silverstone?

↳yoursister: or both?

↳logansargeant: both please!

Private Messages, y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67 @Americanvenom13 @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @theendofthematerialgworl

448 notes · View notes

jyoongim · 1 year ago

Text

Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #Alastor x reader #hazbin vox

2K notes · View notes

curlyfriesgalore · 6 months ago

Text

curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt. [2,817 words]

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an unpleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow clutching his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong, far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

#🌠 leads to my masterlist #realistically though i think curly would be pretty good at singing #he seems like the type to have good breath control because of how much he frequents the gym #btw could you guys tell which song i made you sing at the start? 🤭#i also hope you guys get what i was doing with curly's lines in the duet 😭#i think the pov might be a little all over the place? i kind of intended it to just be general and not really stick to anyone specifically #curly x reader #curly x you #mouthwashing x reader #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing #karaoke #captain curly #nurse anya #intern daisuke #engineer swansea #copilot jimmy #grant curly #anya musume #daisuke juarez #jimmy zare #BYE i accidentally made jimmy agree that he's wrong when he's being a jerk to the reader lmaooo. it's fixed though

150 notes · View notes

melshifting · 3 months ago

Text

❝ THE BLUEPRINT ❞ ― JENNIE KIM SCRIPTING PACK ʚ♡ɞ.ᐟ

Request for: @reveriedraffs <33 ― hope u like it!

― Physical Beauty and Characteristics ⭑.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your skin always looks naturally luminous; even on days when you do nothing special, there’s an effortless glow that makes you stand out.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your facial expressions are effortlessly photogenic. Whether caught off guard or posing, your features settle perfectly, making every candid look intentional.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your proportions always look balanced, no matter what outfit you wear or how you stand. Something about your posture and how you carry yourself makes everything drape on you just right.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your features have that sharp yet soft contrast that makes every expression interesting.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your lips always have the perfect natural color, effortlessly enhancing every look without needing constant reapplication of lipstick or gloss.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You are the epitome of a cat - you have sharp, piercing eyes, with high cheeks that enhance them to perfection.

― Vibe and Demeanor ⭑.ᐟ

You have that rare blend of warmth and coolness—someone who can be both comforting and untouchable, depending on the moment.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You never beg for attention, but you always have it. Not because you try, but because something about you naturally stands out.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You have a way of making everyday actions look elegant without even trying—drinking from a glass, putting on a jacket, or just tying your hair up.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You’re incredibly self-aware. You know your strengths and weaknesses and embrace them with equal confidence. There’s no insecurity about what you don’t have, only pride in what you do.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ While you can be competitive, you also play a protective role, particularly in making sure your close friends are supported.

― Skills and Talents ⭑.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your rap style is characterized by its smooth delivery, strong presence, and unique cadence. You can switch seamlessly between singing and rapping.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your flirting is effortless, hitting the perfect note between teasing and mystery. You say just enough to make people think about you long after the conversation is finished.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You have an impeccable sense of rhythm, whether dancing, walking, or just naturally moving to music; you could tap your fingers on a table and somehow it would feel perfectly in sync with the moment.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your singing voice has a quality that feels incredibly personal. Even if you’re covering someone else’s song, you make it your own.

― Mannerisms and Habits ⭑.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You adjust your rings or jewelry in casual conversations—something that makes people associate that tiny habit with you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You don’t rush. Whether it’s how you move, how you respond to people, or how you go about your day, there’s always an air of calmness.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You have a distinct, quiet laugh that makes people want to hear it again. It’s not loud, but it’s memorable.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You have a very playful way of engaging with people, often using your eyes to communicate.

― Fashion and Hair ⭑.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your off-duty outfits are somehow just as iconic as your dressed-up looks, even in the most casual clothes.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You could wear the most basic item—jeans, a tank top, a sweater—and people would still want to know where you got it from.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your hair always has a healthy, shiny look, even when it’s styled in a messy or tousled way.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ You often spend time curating your outfits, making sure they reflect trends and personal style. This attention to detail extends beyond not just fashion, but to makeup or hair.

106 notes · View notes

eroselless · 10 months ago

Text

───────────────────somebody else // 5

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [3.3k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, insecure reader, mentions of sex, cheesy situations, throwing up

note: idk if its because I'm almost on my period or if it was the dulcet voice of baby justin bieber singing that should be me that was serenading me but I definitely teared up a teeny writing a certain section of this lmao

A new message comes in a few weeks later.

Come over?

Lando stares at the message for a long moment, debating. He knew what it meant. He knew what would happen if he went. His thumb hovers over the screen, mind racing. He’s been here before. The ache of loneliness gnaws at him, twisting in his chest. He swears he won’t go—he tells himself it’s a bad idea, that it won’t fix anything. But the emptiness, the frustration, the desperate need to feel something, anything, overwhelms him. The need to forget just for a moment, wins out.

He goes.

When he arrives at her apartment, it’s almost automatic. He knows how this will go—the small talk, the casual drinks, the inevitable drift toward her bed. He pretends it's you when he’s snapping his hips into hers. Pretending it’s your voice that calls out for him, begging him for more. When she kisses him, he tries to remember what you tasted like. Or how your skin felt under his fingertips when he grips the swells of her breasts. But even as he presses his body against hers, even as he moves with her, it’s not her he’s thinking about.

It’s you.

Every kiss, every touch, every sound—he pretends it’s you. His mind betrays him, replacing her with the memory of you. He imagines it’s your voice whispering his name, your body beneath his, your skin under his hands as he grips her. His eyes squeeze shut, hoping, just for a second, to recreate the way it felt to be with you.

He ignores her when she says his name. It doesn’t sound the same as when you said it, when it would roll so beautifully off your tongue. She’s crying his name over and over again, the same way she used to, the way that once sent heat rushing through him. Now, it falls flat, lacking the sweetness, the softness of when you had once said it. He aches for the way your name used to roll off his tongue, the way you fit perfectly with him in those fleeting moments after everything was over.

The two of them don’t move in sync the way the two of you had. Her body doesn’t react to him the way you did. She feels different around him, different on top of him and different when they lay in bed after the fact. Every time they lay in bed, breathless and silent, he finds himself staring at the ceiling. He tries to summon a memory from the back of his mind, what you had looked like in his bed the morning after the club. How you must’ve looked so at home in his bed, under his sheets with his arms wrapped around you. What your hair must’ve looked like sprawled on the pillow and how your perfume had clung to the shirt you picked out from his drawer.

But he can’t. All he could see was her—her blonde hair and blue eyes. Her voice, the slope of her nose and the valleys of her body. The wrong scent, the wrong touch. Everything about her was a stark reminder that she just wasn’t you.

He returns to her week after week, race after race, he finds himself knocking on her door, using her to drown out the noise in his head. They fall into a rhythm, after every near-win, every frustration on the track, he lets himself fall into the same rhythm. It’s a chase for pleasure, a temporary distraction. He doesn’t know if she sees it for what it is—if she understands she’s just filling a void. She asks for more, sometimes, her eyes searching for him, and each time he brushes her off with some excuse.

“It’s not the right time,” he says. But the truth is, it’s never going to be the right time.

Eventually he relents a little, letting her come to support him at the paddock. She hangs around, filling the space you once occupied. She makes him laugh, talks with ease. She’s good at pretending everything’s fine, like this is more than it is. And for a second, as she follows him around, Lando wonders if this could’ve worked before—if, in another life, before you, this could have been enough.

But it’s not. Not anymore. Because no matter how hard he tries, no matter how many times he tells himself this is easier, she’ll never be you.

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The door clicks behind you, the familiar sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The weight of the day settles on your shoulders as you shrug off your bag, letting it drop unceremoniously by the door. University had been draining to say the least. The endless lectures, the ever growing piles of assignments and the impending looming of exams were beginning to take their toll.

You slump into the sofa, relaxing into the fabric cushions that seem to exhale as you sink further into them. The quiet hum of the city outside your window was the only thing keeping you company. Your eyes flicker to the blank television, mind wandering to place you had been avoiding–places it always seemed to go to when you stopped moving.

Lando.

You hated that his name came to mind so easily, hated how it lingered so eagerly at the forefront of your mind. It had been weeks since you had left, but any glimmer of hope that the memories of him would start to face fizzled out as you kept replaying images of him in your mind. They were clear as day, as if they had only happened yesterday. And you hated it.

You had hoped the weeks away, the build up of assignments and the weight of school would lessen the ache in your heart. But it hadn’t. If anything, it felt much sharper now.

You pick up your phone, scrolling mindlessly through instagram and twitter. Lando’s face appeared in many photos, your algorithm all things McLaren due to your inactivity. The latest race weekend photos appeared on your feed–with her. Magui, draped on his arm, both of them with wide smiles painted on their faces.

She was everywhere now, more than before. They had been seen together often at the paddock, her face a constant reminder of what you’d walked away from. It wasn’t just that they were together again, though—it was how natural they looked. The easy way she leaned into him, the smiles that didn’t seem forced. She seemed to be slipping into his life effortlessly, the way you once had.

Your chest tightens at the sight of them and you toss your phone onto the coffee table with more force than necessary. You couldn’t avoid seeing him—he was still everywhere, whether in race highlights or popping up on your social media feed. The image of him with Magui haunted you more than you cared to admit. A bitter cocktail of jealousy, sadness, and regret swirled inside you.

But you had made your choice. You left. You told yourself it was for the best—that things between you and Lando were getting too complicated, too messy. And now, all you could do was cope with the aftermath.

You pull out your laptop, getting comfortable at your desk, determined to lose yourself in your studies. Exams were coming up, and you had too much on your plate to let your mind wander down that path again. The click of your keyboard echoed in the silence as you tried to focus on the assignment in front of you. But it was hard—your thoughts kept drifting back, replaying the last time you saw Lando, how it felt to leave without saying goodbye.

Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, the sound of your phone buzzing broke through the silence. A message from one of your friends lit up the screen.

Elara: We’re going out tonight. You need a break.

You could see them all leaning over the screen waiting for your response. You sigh, thumbs hovering over the keys. It was true—you’d been drowning in work lately, barely giving yourself a moment to breathe. Still, the thought of going out, of being around people, didn’t exactly sound appealing. You weren’t in the mood for it.

You grimace as another message pops in from Seraphina. No excuses, you need to relax before you die under a textbook.

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. Your friends were relentless and you knew they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe they were right–-maybe you did need a little break, even if it was for just one night.

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you, Elara, and Sera stepped out of the cab and into the neon-lit streets. The bass from the club’s speakers reached your ears long before you approached the door, reverberating off the walls and seeping into your bones. The line outside buzzed with energy—laughter, shouting, and the faint clicking of heels on the pavement. Some people were already sloshed, others teetered between tipsy and sober, but inside, you knew it would be a chaotic mix of both.

For once, the madness felt like an escape, and you welcomed it.

As you stepped into the club, the thick air hit you like a wall. The scent of spilled drinks, the faint musk of sweat, and the sugary sweetness of perfume mingled together as bodies swayed and pulsed to the beat of the music. Colored lights flashed around, creating wild patterns on the walls, strobing back and forth across the packed dance floor.

“Shots first!” Seraphine shouted, tugging you through the crowd. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass, but the gleam in her eyes told you exactly what she was planning. “You need this!”

You hesitated, glancing at the brightly colored bottles lining the bar. “I don’t know if—”

“No arguments tonight,” Elara interrupted, nudging your shoulder playfully. “You’ve been working your ass off. It’s time to have some fun. Let go for once.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. But no promises I’ll keep up.”

“Oh, you will,” Seraphine grinned, already signaling the bartender. Three shots of tequila slid in front of you, gleaming under the club lights.

“To freedom!” Seraphine declared, raising her glass. The three of you clinked your glasses together, the sound lost in the hum of the crowd, before throwing the shot back.

The first shot burned like fire, but it was a good burn. The second went down smoother, the warmth spreading through your chest and limbs. By the third, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks started to unravel. You could feel your mind start to slip away from thoughts of school, exams, and even Lando.

With each one, you feel a little lighter, the weight of the last few weeks slipping away. The buzz of alcohol begins to hum beneath your skin, making the lights seem brighter, the music louder. It's not long before your friends drag you out to the dancefloor, weaving through the crowd until you’ve found a good spot.

“Ready to dance?” Elara asked, already pulling you towards the dance floor.

The alcohol buzzed beneath your skin, making the lights seem brighter, the music louder. You followed your friends, weaving through the crowd until you found a good spot near the center of the dance floor.

The beat pulses through your veins, vibrating in time with your heart. You can feel the energy around you, people moving, dancing, grinding. You lose yourself in the music, letting it take over as you move against the bodies around you, your movements uninhibited and fluid.For the first time in weeks, you felt free. Completely, utterly free. The alcohol works its magic, and you dance without a care, completely weightless as you let hands wander, gripping your hips and pressing into you. You laugh with your friends, letting the music carry you away.

The crowd pressed in close, bodies swaying in sync, and for a few hours, nothing else mattered. Your mind was blissfully blank. No thoughts of school, of assignments, of him. You were just in the moment, letting go, moving to the beat, hands sliding up and down your body as the music thrummed around you. It was intoxicating, the feeling of freedom and release. Elara joins you, while Sera finds a guy to pull close. The alcohol surges through you, the pulse of the music slowly and fleeting feeling of the alcohol grounding you.

The energy in the room shifts. You notice it first in the way the crowd suddenly becomes animated, an uproar of excited chatter speaking through the crown like wildfire. The lights dim and a wave of anticipation washes over the dance floor. You spin around, trying to find the source, only to find yourself freezing in your tracks.

Even under the low, flashing lights, you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere. He’s standing at the DJ booth, bouncing slightly to the music, his arms out in front of him as he adjusts the controls. His backwards hat and the white T-shirt he’s wearing glow faintly under the blacklight, making him stand out even more against the dark backdrop of the club.

Your heart sinks.

The beat of the music intensifies, building toward a crescendo as Lando moves with the rhythm, a wide smile stretching across his face. He’s in his element, commanding the energy of the room as the beat drops, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The strobe lights pulse in sync with the bass, and for a split second, the lights stop strobing, a spotlight grazing over the crowd until it lands on you.

His eyes find yours.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as you stand there, the lights swirling around you. For a moment, it feels like time slows. Your hair is styled the same way it was the night this all had begun and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way the dress clings to your frame, of how exposed you feel standing in the middle of the dance floor while he watches. His eyes twinkle with the same sparkles they had when you’d seen him the very first time.

The room around you blurs into nothing. It’s just you and him. It was the universe playing a cruel joke on you, the way he was staring up at you from above only reminded him of how you two had been the last time you were both under flashing lights.

The noise comes crashing back in, along with reality. The pit of your stomach now feels hollow as you turn away. Seraphine and Elara remain laughing beside you, completely unaware of the turmoil inside you, but you’re too shaken to care.

The tequila isn’t enough to drown out the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I need another drink,” you mutter, as you wander back to the bar, Sera and Elara in tow, and order another round of shots. It’s too much—seeing him here, so carefree, so alive, and you just want the dull ache in your chest to stop.

“Maybe you should slow down,”Elara suggests, eyeing you as the bartender slides the drinks your way.

“It’s ok,” you reply, ignoring her and downing the shot without hesitation. You feel it burn its way down, numbing the edges of your thoughts. But it doesn’t help. Nothing seems to help.

The drinks keep flowing, two, three, four more shots. As you reach for a fifth, Sera’s fingers grip gently around the glass, pulling it from your grasp. “That’s enough, babe. No more for you.” she says. You nodded, barely processing her words, as she drags you back to the dance floor. You move again, trying to lose yourself in the music.

You keep dancing, keep moving. If you stayed still for another moment, the thought of him would come back. But no matter how much you moved, his presence lingered. He was still there, lingering at the edges of your awareness.But it wasn’t working.

The club, the freedom, the buzz–it was all fading and fast, you felt sick.

You moved back slightly, nearly losing your balance. You stumble, the floor seemingly shifting under you–your fingers brushing against something solid.

Lando.

He held onto your biceps, hands holding you up as you felt the nerves in your tummy try to take your knees out. His eyes were filled with a strange mix of emotions as they met yours.

It was awkward, heavy. You both opened your mouths, as if to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat.

"I... I’m sorry for how things ended," you finally blurted out, the alcohol making your voice slur slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

You try to explain yourself, the alcohol still in your system allowing the words to flow out effortlessly. But before you can get too far, you can see someone approaching the two of you.

Magui.

She appears by his side, her arms snaking possessively around his waist. She eyes his hands as they slowly come off your arms, letting you go gently. “Hey” she greets you with a saccharine smile, her voice dripping with condescension as she glances you over. You felt like a bug under the stare. You were probably sweaty, eyes bloodshot and makeup slightly smudged with sweat. She stood perfectly manicured, like a Barbie, by Lando’s side. It made sense, the way you saw it, they seemed perfect for each other.

Before you can respond, she pulls Lando in for a kiss–a long, sloppy kiss that makes your stomach turn. You can’t look away, frozen in place as the sight of them rips through you like a knife. Her hands are pulling at his clothes, grasping at his jaw. His hand has instinctively gone to her waist, pushing her away ever so slightly, but you don’t notice that. The music suddenly feels too loud, the lights too bright, and all at once, everything comes crashing down.

She pulls away just in time for Lando to spot the tears pooling in your eyes. He can see it in your face, the way your heart is just crumbling in your chest. He’s never seen this side of you, not even in your attempts to distance yourself from him, never. It wasn’t a look he ever wanted to see again.

The knot in your stomach tightens and you feel it rising in your throat before you can stop it. The world spins as you lurch forward, expelling the contents of your stomach all over their shoes–Lando’s and Magui’s.

The room erupts in gasps and murmurs and you stand there, mortified as Magui lets out a shriek. She moves back into Lando, shouting insults at you. Lando’s eyes are wide with shock, but you can’t bear to look at him any longer. Tears are now freely streaming down your face as Sera and Elara rush over. They grab you as the club’s security moves in.

“We need to go,” Elara whispers urgently, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

You don’t protest. You let them drag you out, your mind spinning, your heart shattered. As you stumble out of the club, you can hear your name called out from the fading crowd. You cling onto Elara and Sera, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel another wave of nausea roll over you.

It all goes black from there.

a/n: hey y'all this is a scheduled post, i've been so busy as of lately with school but i did my absolute best to get this out for you guys. I hope you guys liked it! as always, let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

tags: @bitchesbroknhearts @herexpertcollector @cabbyhabs @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @rafeyybabyy @lipstickstateofmind

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x you #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando

283 notes · View notes

honeydippedfiction · 8 months ago

Text

Stages of Love

Navigation

Summary: Y/N, a famous R&B singer on tour, gets a surprise visit from her boyfriend, Lando Norris, who joins her backstage for an intimate, unforgettable night. As she pours her heart into her songs on stage, Lando watches from the sidelines, captivated by the love and magic between them.

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: sappy, romance, surprises, cheesy moments

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Join any of my taglists here!

A/N: I took some inspo after watching Naomi Jon’s tour video (I got emotional leave me be😂)

As the tour rolled into another city, Y/N was in her element. She was halfway through her tour, filling arenas night after night, but the distance from her boyfriend, Lando, was starting to weigh on her. They’d been texting and calling when they could, but it wasn’t the same as having him there. Her team noticed her quieter moments, the wistful glances at her phone when she thought no one was looking.

But what Y/N didn’t know was that her team had orchestrated a surprise. Lando had flown across the world to be there for her tonight. It had taken weeks of planning, a carefully coordinated travel schedule, and a fair bit of deception, but it was finally happening.

The day began with soundcheck, the empty arena echoing with Y/N’s voice as she tested her mic. She stood center stage, strumming her guitar and singing softly. The band joined her, filling the empty seats with music. As she hit the opening lines of one of her slower songs, the quiet strum of her guitar wrapped around her gentle voice: “Hold me close, don’t let me fall / In a world so big, you’re my all…” She closed her eyes, singing the chorus with a raw vulnerability. The band fell silent as her voice lingered in the air. “Every time you leave, I lose it all…”

Lando, hidden below the stage with her team, felt his heart tighten. It was as if she was singing directly to him, every lyric resonating with the longing he felt whenever they were apart. Y/N’s camera guy, Eric, who had known her for years, watched the effect she had on him and nudged Lando.

“She’s something else, huh?” Eric grinned, filming Lando’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Lando said softly, his gaze fixed on her. “I’ve never met anyone like her.” He smiled, almost bashful. “It’s like… she’s got this magic that makes everything else disappear.”

One of Y/N’s dancers, Zara, leaned in, a teasing glint in her eye. “You’re totally whipped, aren’t you?”

Lando laughed, his cheeks flushing. “Guilty. Every time I see her on stage, it’s like I’m falling all over again.”

As Y/N moved to another song, a high-energy anthem, she began dancing alongside her backup dancers, their movements perfectly in sync. She was laughing, her joy infectious as she moved across the stage, her voice powerful and confident. “I’m stronger now, I’m my own kind of free / No one else completes me, just me, just me!” She threw her hands up on the beat, and her team clapped and cheered as she hit the final high note, flashing them a grin.

A few hours later, Y/N was backstage, getting ready for the VIP session. She had no idea Lando was just a room away. Her makeup artist, Alex, was applying the finishing touches to Y/N’s base, chatting with her as they worked.

“You look incredible, as always,” Alex said with a grin, dusting her cheeks with a soft glow.

Y/N sighed, glancing at her phone. “Thanks, Alex. I just wish Lando could be here. It feels like forever since I’ve seen him.”

Alex shared a knowing look with Bree, Y/N’s hairstylist, who was perfecting her wig. “You never know,” Bree said with a smile, trying to keep her tone casual.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only! He’s probably busy getting ready for his next race or doing simulator work. But I know he’d be here if he could.”

When the lights dimmed, Y/N took her place on a stool in the center of the small stage set up for the VIP acoustic session. Her fans, buzzing with excitement, filled the front rows, eagerly waiting for the intimate set. She adjusted her guitar and smiled out at them.

“This is my favorite part of the night,” she began, strumming a gentle chord. “It’s just us, no big production, just the music.”

She started playing the opening chords of a fan favorite, her voice soft and warm: “When the lights go down and I’m all alone / It’s your voice, I hear, like I’m already home…” The crowd sang along, their voices blending with hers, and her heart felt full. As the song ended, she leaned into the mic, looking out at her fans with a grateful smile.

“You guys are amazing. Thank you for making tonight so special!” she said, earning a round of cheers.

Then came the Q&A portion. A fan near the front called out, “Y/N, what do you miss most about home?”

Y/N smiled, her gaze softening. “Well… I miss my family, of course. And my friends. And… my boyfriend, Lando. He’s usually off racing, but he’s always so supportive, even from afar.”

Just as she finished speaking, she noticed a ripple of excitement in the crowd, people turning and pointing. Confused, she glanced to the side of the stage—and froze. Lando was walking out, his grin wide and his eyes shining with pure happiness.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Lando! Are you really here?”

He laughed, his face lighting up as he reached her. “Surprise, babe,” he said, opening his arms.

She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. The fans cheered louder, snapping photos and videos, capturing the sweet reunion.

Lando held her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t stay away,” he said softly. “I had to see you.”

Still in shock, Y/N pulled back slightly, laughing as she looked up at him. “You’ve been planning this? I had no idea!”

He chuckled. “I had to keep it under wraps. Your team’s pretty good at secrets.”

She turned to her fans, her smile brighter than ever. “Everyone, this is my incredible boyfriend, Lando,” she said, as if they didn’t already know. The fans erupted, cheering and chanting his name.

After the VIP session and that unforgettable surprise, Y/N and Lando headed back to her green room, still buzzing from the excitement. The green room was alive with energy—her team bustling around, preparing for the main show, organizing outfits, makeup, and everything in between. But for now, Y/N was focused entirely on Lando, who had his arm around her as they settled into the cozy couch in the corner.

“So,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous grin, “want a sneak peek of tonight’s outfits?”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely. Show me everything.”

She laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the rack of costumes her stylist, Bree, had meticulously organized for the show. Y/N picked up a glittering silver jumpsuit with fringe that sparkled under the lights. “This one’s for the opening number,” she explained, her fingers tracing the fabric. “It’s dramatic but comfortable enough for dancing.”

Lando raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “That’s insane. I can already picture you in it on stage.” He smiled, his fingers brushing hers as she held it up. “And here I thought race suits were cool.”

She chuckled, moving to the next outfit, a stunning red ensemble with intricate detailing that flowed down the sides (just the gloves and the hair). “This is for the ballad section. Something a little more elegant. You know, a moment to slow down.”

Lando nodded, clearly taken by her enthusiasm and passion. “They’re all so… you. I mean, they’re powerful but still have that touch of elegance.” He looked at her with an affectionate smile. “Like you.”

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him for a quick hug. “Thanks, Lan. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’re here to see all of this.”

One of her makeup artists, Alex, came over, holding a makeup brush and smiling. “Alright, lovebirds, time to start getting you ready, Y/N!”

Lando stayed close by, sitting on the couch as Y/N went through her pre-show routine. Alex began working on her makeup while Bree helped adjust her hair, styling it just right. Lando watched her with admiration, taking in every detail—her calm focus, her warm interactions with her team, her genuine laughter as they joked around.

Between touch-ups, Y/N kept glancing over at him, catching his eye and sharing a smile. She finally laughed, leaning toward him. “You’re going to make me blush if you keep staring like that.”

Lando shrugged, grinning. “Can’t help it. It’s amazing seeing you in your world like this. You’re in total control, and everyone’s so inspired by you.”

She beamed, her fingers brushing his for a moment before turning to Bree, who handed her the first costume. “Alright, costume change time. No peeking!” she teased, heading behind a curtain set up in the corner of the green room.

When she emerged, dressed in the dazzling silver jumpsuit, Lando’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he whispered, completely taken aback. “You look… unstoppable.”

She laughed, doing a playful twirl. “It’s all thanks to this incredible team.” She glanced around, gesturing to her crew. “They’re the real magic behind this.”

Next came her vocal warm-ups. She took a deep breath, launching into a series of scales and exercises that resonated through the room, her voice filling the space with strength and control. Lando watched, his admiration clear as he took in how serious she was about every part of her craft.

Just as she wrapped up, Maya, her tour manager, called everyone together for the pre-show team pep talk. “Alright, everyone!” Maya said, her voice commanding attention. “Tonight’s a big show, and you’ve all been incredible every step of the way. Let’s give them everything we’ve got.”

Then Maya looked over at Lando with a smile. “And since we have a special guest with us tonight, I think it’s only fitting that Lando join us in our pre-show huddle.”

The team all cheered, pulling Lando in as they formed a tight circle, each person’s hand stacked one on top of the other. Y/N beamed, looking around at her crew and at Lando beside her. She placed her hand on top of the pile, then reached for his, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze before laying it over hers.

Maya counted down. “Alright, on three… One, two, three—”

“VENOMOUS!” they all shouted in unison, the energy palpable as they broke the huddle, each person giving Y/N a quick hug or a pat on the back.

Lando, still holding her hand, leaned down and whispered, “You’re going to crush it out there. I’ll be cheering you on the whole time.”

She gave him one last, lingering hug, resting her head against his chest for a moment as she took a deep breath, grounding herself. “Thank you,” she murmured, pulling back to look at him. “Having you here… it’s like a dream.”

He smiled, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Then go make this your best show yet. I’ll be right there watching.”

With one last look, she turned and headed toward the stage, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and calm, knowing that the person she loved was right there, supporting her every step of the way.

As Y/N took the stage, Lando stood just off to the side, peeking out from behind the curtain. She was electric, moving effortlessly through her songs, her voice carrying through the arena. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her gaze holding his for a beat before she turned back to the crowd. Halfway through her set, she paused, catching her breath as she gazed out at the sea of fans.

“This next song is dedicated to someone very special,” she said, her eyes finding Lando’s. “He’s my biggest supporter, even from a thousand miles away. Lando, this one’s for you.”

She began to sing, her voice filled with emotion. “When I’m lost, you’re my light / When I’m weak, you’re my fight / In your arms, I find my home…” Her voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability raw and beautiful. The crowd swayed, lights flickering as they held up their phones, the arena transformed into a sea of stars.

Lando felt his throat tighten, overwhelmed with pride and love as he watched her pour herself into every note. She was incredible, and she was his.

After the song, she slipped backstage for a quick outfit change, meeting Lando with a breathless smile. He caught her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re killing it out there.”

She grinned, cheeks flushed. “It’s because you’re here. Now wish me luck for round two!”

As she headed back out, the crowd’s chant filled the air: “Y/N! Y/N!” She beamed, waving to them before diving into the second half of her set. She was glowing, her smile never leaving her face as she moved through each song, her voice ringing with joy and strength.

As the final chords of her last song faded, Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the entire night settling over her. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and chanting her name. She looked out at the sea of faces, a mix of strangers and friends who had supported her from the beginning, and then to Lando, who stood just offstage with the proudest smile. She mouthed a simple “I love you” to him, feeling the tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Lando mouthed it back, his expression as full of emotion as hers. They were worlds apart in their careers yet so deeply connected, and tonight, it felt like they were in perfect sync.

After taking her final bow, Y/N slipped offstage, still buzzing with adrenaline and joy. Lando was waiting just outside the wings, his arms open, and she practically leaped into them, burying her face in his shoulder as he hugged her tightly.

“You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice full of pride. “Absolutely unstoppable.”

She pulled back, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a smile that refused to fade. “Thank you for being here,” she murmured, her fingers tracing his jawline. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“I think I do,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I saw how you lit up out there. It’s like you were made for this, Y/N.”

Just then, her tour manager, Maya, approached with a smile, holding up a camera. “Alright, lovebirds, the night’s not over yet. We’ve got a bit more to film for the tour documentary. How about we capture this moment?”

Lando laughed, shaking his head but agreeing nonetheless. Y/N nodded, glancing up at him. “Are you okay with being on camera?”

“For you?” He smirked, squeezing her hand. “Anything.”

They both turned to face the camera, Y/N still tucked into his side as they answered a few questions. She was glowing, her happiness evident with every word.

Eric, behind the camera, asked, “Y/N, how does it feel to have him here?”

She looked up at Lando, her smile widening. “It feels… like everything is right. Like all the pieces are here, and I can finally just… breathe. Having him here tonight? It made this show unforgettable.”

Eric then turned the camera on Lando. “And you, Lando? What’s it like being with Y/N on tour?”

Lando chuckled, glancing down at her. “It’s amazing. I mean, I know how talented she is, but seeing her do this live… She’s a whole force of nature. It’s inspiring.” He paused, his eyes softening. “And it just makes me that much more proud to be hers.”

The camera captured the way they looked at each other, a quiet understanding passing between them. As they wrapped up filming, Maya gave them a nod, signaling they were done for the night. The two of them slipped back to her dressing room, the crowd’s fading cheers still echoing in the background.

Once inside, the world seemed to slow down. Y/N kicked off her shoes, sinking onto the couch beside Lando. She leaned against him, closing her eyes for a moment, soaking in the peace after the whirlwind of the night.

“Did you like the dedication?” she asked, her voice a quiet murmur.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing her temple. “I loved it. Every second of it. You make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world, you know that?”

She looked up, her gaze soft and vulnerable. “I feel the same way, Lando. You… you ground me in all this chaos.”

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing as she rested her head on his shoulder. She was exhausted, but with Lando beside her, she felt like she could take on anything. For a while, they forgot about the cameras, the crowd, and the next show. It was just the two of them, in their little bubble of love and calm.

As the night wound down, Lando and Y/N slipped out of the venue hand in hand, making their way toward her tour bus parked under the glow of streetlights. But as they walked, they spotted a small group of fans who’d waited by the barricades, hoping for a last glimpse of her. She paused, giving Lando’s hand a squeeze.

“Want to go say hi?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with that same warm smile he’d fallen in love with.

He nodded, grinning. “Absolutely. Lead the way, superstar.”

When the fans noticed her coming over, their faces lit up with excitement, some gasping in disbelief as she walked right up to them. “Oh my god, Y/N, you were amazing tonight!” one girl exclaimed, her hands shaking as she held up her phone.

Y/N smiled, reaching out to hug her. “Thank you so much for waiting. I’m so glad you could come tonight. It means everything to me.”

One fan shyly looked at Lando, eyes wide. “Um, is it okay if we get a picture with you two together?”

Lando chuckled, pulling Y/N close and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course! Just don’t tell her fans that she’s cooler than me.”

Y/N laughed, nudging him playfully. “We both know they already know that.”

As they posed for photos, Y/N took time to chat with each fan, asking them about their favorite parts of the show, taking selfies, and signing whatever they handed her. Lando admired how patient and genuine she was, watching as she made each fan feel seen and special. Her kindness and warmth radiated, making her more than just a singer to them. She was a friend, a confidante, someone who truly cared.

Before they left, one fan whispered to Y/N, “You two are, like, perfect together. You can just tell he loves you.”

Y/N glanced at Lando, her cheeks flushing as he caught her gaze, his eyes soft. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think so too.”

They finally said their goodbyes, waving to the fans as they continued toward the tour bus. Once they were out of earshot, Y/N sighed, smiling up at him. “Thank you for stopping with me. I love seeing them happy.”

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “I think it just made me fall for you even more.”

When they reached her tour bus, they climbed aboard, finding a quiet corner at the back where they could just be themselves, free from the spotlight. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder as they talked late into the night. Every laugh, every shared look, and every quiet moment together felt like a gift.

As the bus rolled on toward the next city, they fell asleep side by side, knowing this night was one they’d remember forever—a perfect memory captured not just on film, but in their hearts.

———————

Behind The Scenes:

Y/N’s voice echoed through the arena as she ran through the first song, a hauntingly beautiful ballad she’d written in the early days of her career. It was raw, personal, and every note seemed to vibrate with emotion. “I wanna run away with you,” she sang, her voice filling the vast, empty seats around her. “Just take me to places I've never known…”

As she moved through the song, she closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the lyrics, unaware that Lando was watching her every move. He was mesmerized, unable to keep his eyes off her. She had this way of pouring herself into every note, and today he could feel it more than ever. Her camera guy, Eric, caught the look on Lando’s face and couldn’t resist nudging him.

“So, Lando,” Eric began, smirking. “What’s it like watching her do her thing up close like this?”

Lando laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s surreal, honestly. I mean, she’s always this amazing, even when we’re just hanging out. But seeing her like this…” He trailed off, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she began to dance, moving with her backup dancers through the intricate steps she’d spent weeks perfecting. “I’m in awe of her. Every time.”

One of the dancers, Zara, overheard him and grinned. “Yeah, we can tell. You look like you’re about to melt every time she so much as glances over here.”

“Can you blame me?” he replied, eyes never leaving Y/N.

Eric chuckled, the camera capturing Lando’s look of pure adoration. “How do you handle being apart when you both have such crazy schedules?”

“It’s hard,” Lando admitted, his gaze softening. “But we make it work. She’s worth it—more than worth it. I’d fly across the world just to see her smile like this.”

Up on stage, Y/N was running through another song—one of her high-energy anthems that had become a fan favorite. As she hit the chorus, she threw her hands in the air, singing, “I said R.I.P. to the fake and the famous/ Kiss goodbye to the shade and the shameless!” Her energy was contagious, and her team couldn’t help but clap and cheer along as she hit the final high note, her voice filling every inch of the space.

Lando felt his chest swell with pride as he watched her. She was so much more than the girl he fell in love with; she was this powerhouse who commanded the stage, who made thousands of people feel understood. Eric leaned in, catching his reaction on film. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“More than amazing,” Lando said quietly, a soft smile on his face. “She’s… everything.”

As Y/N finished her set, she called down, “How’s it sounding, team?”

Maya, her tour manager, shot her a thumbs-up. “Perfect as always, Y/N!”

Satisfied, Y/N left the stage, unaware of the extra pair of eyes watching her every move. When soundcheck wrapped, her team kept the secret well-guarded, knowing that the surprise was only hours away.

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119 , @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen

174 notes · View notes

wonderingpanda · 6 months ago

Text

Glad I Found You

2012!Raph x Reader

Just thought I might throw something out there as a silly little Christmas thing before the season ends.

The lair was filled with excitement as everyone was piled in and moving around. April was wrapping gifts with Donnie.

“Okay! That’s three gifts done already. What do you think Donnie?”

Her jaw dropped in awe, Donnie had already formed a detailed stack of wrapped gifts. The paper positioned perfectly with neat ribbons and bows covering the whole thing.

“How did you do that!?” He shrugged and smirked.

“Anything can be accomplished with the correct calculations.”

Just as he spoke Mikey came running through and toppled the pile of gifts taking Donnie with them.

“Mikey!” He yelled after lifting a gift away from his face.

“Sorry dude!” Mikey called back. “Gotta get these decorations going!”

He ran over to the tree the turtles had set up near the tv area. Leo had explicitly stated that they couldn’t put it against the wall as he wanted every decoration to be seen.

“Mikey, have you got the rest of them?” Leo asked frantically. Mikey panted and sighed as he dropped the heavy box of ornaments to the floor.

“Every last one.” He groaned before dropping to the floor.

“Come on Mikey don’t give up now. We’re so close.”

Mikey raised his hand and slipped an ornament onto one of the branches best he could until Leo panicked started yelling.

“What are you doing!?”

“What!?” Mikey shot up and frowned. “You said to not give up I assumed you meant decorating the tree so I kept decorating the tree!”

“Yeah but.” Leo plucked the ornament off. “I already said that the golds, reds and silvers can’t touch. It needs to look well structured. Candy canes on the tips of the branches, baubles on the top and bottom (without any clashing colours) and special ornaments in the middle. This isn’t going to work if we don’t follow the formula.”

Mikey groaned and collapsed on the floor again.

“I can’t bro. Go on without me, it’s too hard.”

“Suit yourself.” Leo smiled and continued reaching for more decorations.”

Y/n smiled at the scene of the entire lair as she stepped inside. Mikey, given he was the only one unoccupied, was the first to notice her arrival.

“Hey, wassup dudette!”

“Hey Mikey!” She smiled and laughed. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh boring, Leo’s taking all the fun out of tree decorating! It’s not that deep bro.”

Rolling his eyes, Leo looked back and down at his younger brother.

“Uh yes it is, we’ve barely gotten a chance to celebrate Christmas over the last year or so, so I’m going to do whatever I can to make this one perfect.”

“Because that’s a healthy mentality to have.” Y/n smiled.

Leo frowned and sent her a glare which Y/n wuickly brushed off cheerfully.

“Hey Y/n, sorry I don’t expect you to know or anything but do you happen to know when Casey will be getting here?” April asked bashfully.

“Oooooh.” The three brothers all spoke in sync and immediately began laughing their heads off.”

“Oh shut up.” April rolled her eyes smiling.

“I’m not too sure.” Y/n replied, stifling a laugh herself, but I think he said his family thing ends around 4 so he should be here sometime after then.”

“Thanks. Sorry for asking I just wanted to to make sure he’ll be here so I can-“

“Give him your special gift?” Y/n giggled and sat down, leaning in next to her. The two made eye contact and started laughing together giddily.

“If you’re both done over there.” Donnie cut through with an amused look on his face. “I think there’s someone who wants to see you Y/n.” He spoke in a sing-song tone.

“Alright, where is he? I thought he’d be out here with the rest of you.”

“You all taking about Raph!?” Mikey called from across the room.” He’s been locked up in his room all day! Not sure why though.”

With a bright face, Y/n quickly stood up and began heading towards Raph’s room waving goodbye to everyone else.

“Knock knock.” She called from outside the door, not even bothering to wait for a reply before barging in.

“Ahh, Y/n! Jeez!” Raph panicked and turned around, fumbling with something in his hands.

“Oooh watcha got there?” She teased, walking closer.

“A gift.” He sighed rolling his eyes, looking down at the floor with red cheeks. He stuck his hand out presenting the wrapped present. “For you.”

Y/n’s eyes lit up as she held it in her hands.

“Can I open it now?” She asked curiously.

“What kind of a question is that? Yes, of course you can!”

She smiled and began to tear away at the paper. Soon she was able to view the gift fully, a red loom band bracelet. She gasped and slipped it on.

“Just cos, you know, we can’t always be together so I figured if you’re up top side during the day or something it can be like a little reminder of me or us or whatever. I don’t know.”

“Raph.” Y/n laughed tearfully. “How long did it take you to make?”

“I don’t know, the thing kept breaking and I had to follow these weird tutorials. I had to get Mikey’s help, Mikey! But it worked in the end I hope.”

Y/n pulled him tightly into a hug. Snuggling into him slightly.

“I love it. Ooh, before I forget!” She then began searching for her own gift which she had hidden somewhere on her. “Here!” She cheered, finally pulling out the slightly crumpled present. Raph carefully took it from her and began to open it delicately, soon noticing something shiny inside.

A thin, metal rectangle on a stand. It could rotate in a circle serving as almost fidget toy, or so he thought. As he kept spinning it, Y/n eventually placed her hand on his and looked him the eye.

“Read it.” She smiled. Raph glanced down and noticed that there was indeed writing on either side of the rectangle. He slowly read it out.

“There are over 6 million turtles in the world.” He flipped it over the the other side. “But out of all of them, I’m glad I found you.”

He held the gift silently for a second, Y/n was about to ask if he was ok till he looked up at her with teary eyes. He pulled Y/n into a tight hug which she gladly reciprocated.

“I’m glad I found you too.”

Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoyed. Have an awesome day/night wherever you are!✨

#tmnt #x reader #tmnt x reader #raph x reader #2012 tmnt x reader #2012 raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader

113 notes · View notes

seoul-bros · 18 days ago

Text

Jikook Week 78 Complete (03/06-11/06/2025)

Jikook have finalized their 78th week in the military and their release is imminent. On the outside I'm perfectly calm but inside...

....they are coming back to us and I know they are as pleased about that as we are. Big Hit says no press on 10th and 11th but surely they won't miss the chance to say hi on a live?

So this is the last one of these. I really can't believe I've had the discipline to keep it up without missing a week. So let's end with a big jikook year - 2019. They were on the European leg (London and Paris) of the extension of the Love Yourself Speak Yourself Tour which ended in Seoul in late October 2019. The two Wembley concerts were on 1st-2nd June.

JK went live after the concert on the second day. He talked about ARMY singing Young Forever to BTS and his reaction. There are a few of fancams of the moment and although all the members are clearly moved by the experience it isn't perhaps surprising that jikook are hit the hardest. Young Forever means so much to Jimin personally and JK has always been the ultimate lover of ARMY. They really are two sides of the same coin.

youtube

He goes on to tell ARMY about the gift he has prepared for them for Festa 2019 - the DJ Swivel Forever Mix of Euphoria.

youtube

He then has a prescient moment...

I mean what is AYS if not a cheeky mukbang?

He ended the live talking about how lucky he was that his parents had let him follow his own path, that there were people who loved him and that he had been able to follow his dream.

After the Wembley concerts BTS went on to Paris for two more concerts on 7th-8th June and then returned home to Seoul on 10th June. Here is Hobi sunshine with his sunshine brothers Suga and Jin at the airport.

Jimin really enjoyed his time in London. A group of his friends had come to see him perform and Jimin acknowledged them on Twitter, "Precious friends came to watch the show😊🙏🏼"

Banner says, "Hyungs are here"

He and Jungkook were spotted out and about with them by fans.

Jimin mentioned it in his live with Namjoon on 6th June. He had been walking a little slower than the group just drinking in the sights and particularly the sounds of London.

He also posted these pictures on Twitter with the caption, "It was a truly precious tour I won't forget everything I received this time. Thank you very much"

What else did MiniMoni talk about on their live from Paris?

We found out that this live almost didn't happen because Jimin has stayed behind at the venue to practicing with Jungkook. I'm not sure that's what I would call this Mochi, my love.

Notice the extremely gentle scolding from their leader.

We found out that RM was having trouble writing and instead he had binge watched Mr Sunshine. Jimin on the other hand had been playing computer games with Hobi on tour.

They had a scary moment when Namjoon wondered if he spoiled the release of the BTS World OST (Joon really is the Mark Ruffalo of the BTS universe) but fortunately it was already on line. They then talk about Jin and how great he sounds on Dream Glow and Namjoon talks about helping him write the second verse to Tonight.

It's a live that hits on so many topics and really captures the era they were living through. Already experienced performers that came up from nothing with a treasure trove of shared memories and hints of the things that were to come. It's worth watching just for the boss baby method of English learning.

Let's end the post with a little bit of JK pre-Tik Tok days, lip syncing and dancing to Billy Eilish's Bad Guy. How does he do it? He's bopping around enjoying himself but still managing to hit a sexy cutie vibe. Wish I'd seen this before I did my JK Festa countdown. It would definitely have been included.

Good luck Jimin and Jungkook with whatever plans you are making post-military and I hope you get to continue to do that together, mutually admiring and supporting, creating a safe space for each other in which to learn and grow.

Post Date: 09/06/2025

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #bts in the military #jikook in 2019 #festa 2025 #our boys are finally coming home

60 notes · View notes

pinkpastels113 · 4 months ago

Text

pop star x bodyguard au

for @writerallie

Adrenaline rushes through her veins as Galinda moves across the stage, the lights overhead brilliant and warm and colorful and she knows she looks dazzling as she dances, singing to her own song with the earpieces that keep her on track. She giggles through the chorus in all the right places, makes that one voice change that makes her fans go wild, and lets her eyes stray to the side, to that dedicated spot to the left near the closest floor seats, to make sure that the sole person in this entire sold out stadium there for her is listening, watching her performance.

Elphaba, as always, stands there, in her pressed black suit and stoic expression. Her clear steady gaze meets Glinda’s, never leaves even as Glinda shoots her a dimpled smile before (satisfied,) focuses on an arbitrary fan in the crowd, winking at them just so they can catch it on their phone cameras. That intense stare burns a trail right to the tips of her toes in their heels, encouraging her to put on a show more so than any of the other tens of thousands of people in that stadium. It makes her excited to (rather than prepared to). It carries her through the rest of the songs, the rest of the setlist.

The material of her cutout dress glitter, sparkling brighter than the stars in the evening sky that are trying to peek through. Her own voice sounds strange in her head, though louder than the many others singing along, which are vying to bleed into one with the way they are perfectly in sync with her lyrics. Glinda’s hold on her microphone is gentle but firm as she gives everyone what they want, paid for, looked forward to, traded plans with, for that night.

Glinda loves being a pop star. She has always dreamed of being an artist ever since she first held a karaoke microphone toy at seven, and now, fifteen years later, she’s finally made it. The energy of the crowd brings a flush to her cheeks, their open adoration causing her heart to soar, and their connection to her own feelings making her so validated and seen. Wanted. Perfection. Though it oftentimes can be lonely and suffocating and overwhelming, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She’s worked too hard to reach that point. Sacrificed so much.

She finishes off the choreography with her backup dancers, skipping across the stage to the inconspicuous mark identified with a dollop of pink tape. Glinda poses, as rehearsed, her breath tumbling out in soft pants, sweat beading on her forehead, hair slightly damp and dark and returning to their natural waves.

(She hopes her makeup’s still flawless though.)

Glinda glances, again, to the left.

Elphaba’s smile is small but still decipherable, only there for Glinda to pinpoint due to the amount of time that they’ve spent together. The corner of her lips quirk up the tiniest bit in fondness (and if Glinda allowed herself to dare to hope, with pride, too), and for some reason it makes Glinda’s eyes sting with unshed tears.

Her chest suddenly feels tight, like there is a weight on it, but Glinda ignores it as she turns back to address the audience. She curtsies while everyone else bow deeply to signal the end of the show, grinning widely while the cheers heighten into a deafening roar. The lights flash elegantly into synthetic rainbows, showering across the stadium not unlike shimmering bubbles. Taking a few minutes of reprieve to catch her breath and make sure that the noise isn’t a danger to her poor eardrums, she takes out her IEMs to give her expected speech.

“I had such a fun time with you all here tonight! The Emerald City really holds such a special space in my heart, and well. I hope your memories here in the past couple hours were as beautiful as mine for those years spent at Shiz, if not more. Thank you all for coming to the show and spending the evening with me, and see you in the next! Now I must go,” she finishes with a delicate chuckle, “Before I float away in all the goodness everyone has bestowed upon me.”

When she’s finally off that platform under the pressure of tens of thousands of Ozians, Elphaba is there with her pink converse. Glinda is grateful for the bit of privacy the darkness beneath the stage provides as she’s pretty sure the tabloids would have a field day printing articles about the gripping of her bodyguard’s shoulders as she carefully removes Glinda’s heels for her.

It’s fine, Glinda thinks, as the heat in her cheeks refuses to fade. It’s just a caring gesture. Nothing more to it. Any reasonable person with a heart would understand that she probably requires a change of shoes after two and a half hours of elaborate dancing on the pinches of her feet. Even if she’d never ask for it.

She shouldn’t read into it much. Couldn’t. It’s not like Elphaba will say anything substantial if she prods.

“Just doing my job, princess,” Elphaba would always reply in that dry tone that Glinda foolishly, determinedly, wishes to crack someday down the line.

(And princess as in “pop princess.” As the public deems her. Presumably.)

Elphaba ties the laces, accentuating them into double bunny ears. She straightens into her full height, placing a hand on the small of Glinda’s back, right there in that spot where her glittering dress gave way to a slip of skin, guiding her back out into the crowd for the final stretch of public attention.

She smiles. And waves, as expected. For the cameras, for the eager faces, for the anticipation and the admiration and the happiness that it provides others.

“Glinda, we love you!”

“You did so amazing, I love you so much!”

“I’m such a huge fan!”

“It was perfect, Glinda! The best show ever!”

“Aah! Glinda!”

“You look so beautiful!”

Elphaba keeps her steps quick, steadily pushing Glinda along even as fans try to reach out, swiftly inserting her body between them to block their line of sight. While Glinda makes it her day’s mission to please the public, Elphaba could not care less.

(There had been instances where she had to scold Elphaba for being particularly aggressive.)

A young girl cried her name and Glinda turned, pausing to pay her a compliment and genuine smile. She already knew that Elphaba would be upset at her for doing so but she crouched down to hug the girl anyway, answering her questions about some of the theatrics of the performance.

“We have to go, Glinda. The car is waiting.”

Despite herself, Glinda rolled her eyes. “It can wait for a little longer.”

Something shifts in Elphaba’s gaze, and her hand twitches at her side for a split second. A rare moment of deviation of her cool facade but Glinda would gladly take it. It’s a small victory.

She decides to not push her luck any further than that, though, and reaches the car without additional waylay. Elphaba holds the door open for her, Glinda sliding past with a purposeful brush to her wrist, before ducking in herself. She slams the door shut behind them.

The vehicle begins to move.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Elphaba huffs, tossing Glinda’s heels on the opposite seat. There is a bottle of water tucked into a compartment which Elphaba picks up to shove at Glinda. “You don’t know what could have happened.”

“She was a child!” Glinda protests. She wrenches open the cap to gulp a few mouthfuls to hydrate her throat. Then hums a bit to soothe her voice. “Nothing could have happened.”

“It’s my job to prevent you from anything happening, so I think I should have a say on whether or not it could have. Happened.”

“Like there would not have been plenty of time for you to do something if it had.” Glinda peers up at Elphaba from beneath her lashes, resting her chin on her hand. “Did you have fun, Elphie?”

Elphaba glances past Glinda’s shoulder to the streets cruising out the window. “It’s not-”

“Did you,” Glinda says, punctuating her question, because Lurline, she was so sick of Elphaba skating and avoiding, “Have fun?”

“I don’t see how that would have mattered. It’s not like I had a choice on the matter of attending.”

“Just answer the damn question.” Good thing the privacy screen is up between them and the driver.

Elphaba pursed her lips. Glinda can see her debating with herself on whether or not to indulge her but Glinda had already seen the display of affection after the last song. And she knows that Elphaba knows too. She just hopes for a confirmation, and a quiet extension of something beyond strictly professional in this weirdly tense in between of their relationship.

“Perhaps.”

And that alone brought her more joy than the entirety of the performance that evening.

#w writes #i wrote this in one sitting so if it has mistakes pls ignore and i will polish it later lmfao #wicked #gelphie #elphaba thropp #glinda upland #galinda upland #glinda x elphaba #wicked fanfiction #gelphie fanfic #pop star au

118 notes · View notes

isuckatwritingsobenice · 4 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Four

The air in the show choir room was thick with tension. What started as an ambitious idea was quickly becoming a logistical nightmare. The cheerleaders stood on one side of the room, arms crossed, ponytails bouncing whenever they rolled their eyes. The show choir members stood on the other, looking just as unimpressed.

At the center of it all stood Claire Zolinski, clipboard in hand, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the surface. Across from her, Charley had their arms crossed, gaze sharp. Maddie was beside them, shifting her weight like she was physically holding back the urge to say something snarky.

“Alright,” Claire exhaled, looking around at the divided room. “We’re running out of time. We need to at least get through Espresso before practice is over.”

Nicole clapped her hands together, trying to cut through the tension with enthusiasm. “It’s a high-energy song! If we nail the timing, it’s gonna look amazing!”

“It would help if the choreography actually made sense,” Charley shot back.

Claire stiffened. “It does make sense. You just don’t know how to keep up.”

Charley scoffed. “Right, because we definitely spend our time throwing people in the air for fun.”

“You don’t spend your time dancing, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, enough,” you interrupted, stepping forward before the argument could spiral further. “Can we at least try to get through this? Fighting isn’t gonna magically make the routine better.

Claire and Charley didn’t break eye contact for a moment longer before Claire finally sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

Maddie muttered something under her breath, but you ignored it, turning to Yuri, who was adjusting the mic stand. “Let’s start from the top.”

Simon cracked his knuckles, looking more excited for the dancing than the actual singing. “Let’s do this.”

Dawn hit play on the speaker, and the bass from Espresso filled the room. Immediately, everyone scrambled into position.

The first few beats started strong—Simon and Nicole nailed the footwork, and Yuri’s vocals were clean and controlled. But it didn’t take long for things to start falling apart. The cheerleaders weren’t in sync with the choir members. The formations were off. Some of the show choir kids were getting tripped up by the fast transitions.

By the time the first chorus hit, Claire threw her hands up in frustration.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she yelled, reaching over to pause the music. “This isn’t working!”

“Oh really?” Maddie shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell.”

Claire turned to her sharply. “You could at least try instead of rolling your eyes every five seconds.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard to take this seriously when it’s obvious you don’t actually care about us being part of this. You just need warm bodies to fill your routine.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe? But it was gone just as fast. “I do care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place.”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Before things could spiral again, Yuri let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Enough. If we’re going to make this work, we need to simplify things where we can.” He turned to you, eyes sharp with decision. “You’re singing all the songs.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be cleaner if we don’t switch vocalists mid-performance. It gives the routine consistency, and let’s be real, you have the strongest voice for these songs.” Yuri’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Janet nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. Less moving around for us, and the focus stays on the performance itself instead of worrying about transitions.”

Claire, for once, didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine by me. As long as we can actually get through the choreography.”

You hesitated for a moment, but seeing everyone waiting for your answer, you finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Now, let’s actually run this thing properly.”

The two groups exchanged glances, tension still thick in the air, but eventually, they all grumbled in agreement.

“Alright,” Claire said, rolling back her shoulders. “From the top.”

The music started again. And this time, despite the mistakes, despite the hesitations, despite the obvious divide in the room—something clicked.

It still wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, it actually felt like they might be able to pull this off.

By the time practice was over, the tension had eased—but just barely. The cheerleaders and the show choir weren’t exactly friends, but at least they weren’t actively trying to strangle each other anymore. Progress.

As everyone started packing up, Nicole clapped her hands together. “So, I talked to the theater department, and they’re in.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “In for what?”

“The setup for the halftime show. You know how they’re the fastest at putting sets together? They’ll be responsible for whatever staging we have on the field.”

Janet grinned. “That actually makes this a lot easier. They work fast, and they’ll make sure everything doesn’t fall apart mid-performance.”

Claire, still slightly stiff from earlier arguments, nodded. “Fine. But tell them not to overdo it. We don’t need a Broadway production, just something functional.”

Nicole smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re already planning something over-the-top. You know how they are.”

Claire groaned, rubbing her temples, but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” Yuri sighed. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to go over everything again. Let’s hope it actually looks like a halftime show by then.”

With that, practice wrapped up, and everyone filed out—some leaving in pairs, others in quiet groups, all exhausted but determined.

The sun hung low in the sky, streaking the field with gold as the football team pushed through their drills. The air was thick with sweat, the sharp scent of churned-up grass, and the distant echo of cleats slamming against turf.

But none of that mattered to Wally Clark.

Not when the coach was in his face, practically spitting as he yelled.

“Pick it up, Clark! You’re not running plays like you mean them! You want a championship or not?”

Wally gritted his teeth, helmet tucked under his arm, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “Yes, Coach.”

“Then act like it! You’re the best we got! You don’t bring your A-game, we don’t win. And I don’t lose!”

The words sank deep into Wally’s chest, pressing against the already suffocating weight of expectations. He knew all of this. He didn’t need to hear it again.

But before the frustration could fester, Coach blew the whistle. “Five-minute break! Hydrate!”

The players scattered, some jogging to the sidelines for water, others flopping onto the grass with exhausted groans. Wally exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the stress.

That was when the whistles started.

A couple of his teammates nudged each other, smirking as they tilted their chins toward the field entrance. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Wally didn’t even glance up. He’d seen the cheerleaders walk onto the field a million times before. It wasn’t exactly a life-changing event.

But then—

The music started.

At first, it was just a heavy beat pulsing through the speakers. But then, a voice cut through the field.

Clear. Strong. Captivating.

Wally frowned, finally looking up as he pulled his helmet off.

The cheerleaders were moving into formation, rehearsing their halftime routine. The show choir had set up near them, their small group arranged with microphones, preparing to run through the setlist. But Wally barely registered any of that.

Because he was focused on her.

Or at least, he was trying to.

He couldn’t see her—she was too far, blocked by some of the other performers—but he could hear her. And that was enough to make something inside him pause.

She sounded good.

Not just decent, not just okay. Really, really good. Like she belonged on a stage bigger than a high school football field.

And it bothered him.

Because he wasn’t expecting it.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, stepping toward the edge of the field, trying to angle himself for a better look. Just as he was about to get a clear view—

“Clark!”

Coach’s bark snapped him out of it, and he turned sharply, setting his jaw.

“Get over here! We’re going over plays!”

Wally clenched his helmet in one hand, giving the field one last glance. He still couldn’t see her.

But the voice stayed with him.

Even as he jogged back to his teammates, even as the coach started barking orders again—he could still hear her.

And for the first time in a long time, Wally Clark found something slipping through the cracks of football, pressure, and expectations.

Curiosity.

Soft shades of pink and baby blue painted the walls, the warm glow of fairy lights strung along the white curtains casting gentle shadows. Jewelry clinked softly against the edges of a porcelain tray on her vanity, catching the dim light like scattered stars. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen, an otherwise safe and dreamy space—if not for the muffled chaos drifting up from downstairs.

The shouting had started almost twenty minutes ago.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Pretended it was just another disagreement, a raised voice or two before everything settled down. But then something shattered.

Your stomach twisted.

You paced the length of you room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what to do. Could you do anything? If you went downstairs, you might make it worse. If you stayed put, you’d have to keep listening, the weight of every sharp word digging under your skin.

The sound of something else breaking made you flinch.

Your hands shook as you reached for your phone, quickly scrolling to Dawn’s contact. You pressed the call button and brought the phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pick up. Please pick up.”

The line rang once. Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

You exhaled sharply, throat tight. Of course. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.

The voices downstairs swelled again, and you quickly set your phone aside, not trusting your grip. Instead, you crawled onto your bed, curling up against the plush comforter.

It was all you could do.

Just wait.

Wait for it to stop.

Wait for the voices to drop back down into silence, for the tension to dissolve into an uneasy stillness.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Even with the distant echoes of anger in the air, even with the weight pressing heavy on your chest—your eyelids grew heavier. Your body gave in.

And as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was the sound of someone walking away downstairs.

The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the wall filled the room, punctuated by the occasional swish as it landed perfectly in the small hoop hanging over his door. Wally leaned back against his pillows, tossing the ball absentmindedly, watching it spin in the air before catching it again.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand.

He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

Probably the guys in the group chat talking about practice, or the game on Friday, or something else football-related. He just didn’t care right now. He needed a break. A second to breathe without thinking about running plays, winning streaks, or his coach drilling it into his head that he was the key to a championship.

He exhaled through his nose, tossing the ball a little harder.

His mind wandered back to practice, to the way his coach got on his case about picking up the pace. It wasn’t like he was slacking off, but lately, it felt like no matter how much he gave, it wasn’t enough. The pressure was there, constant, sitting heavy on his shoulders.

His grip tightened around the ball.

Then—his thoughts shifted.

To her voice.

The rehearsal.

That halftime thing the choir was doing with the cheerleaders. He hadn’t planned on paying attention, but he did. More than he wanted to admit.

The sound of her voice had cut through the noise of practice, weaving through the air in a way that made him stop. He hadn’t even seen her—just heard her, like something drawing him in before he could think twice about it.

And now he was wondering.

Who the hell was that?

His phone buzzed again.

He let the ball drop into his lap and ran a hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, still hearing the lingering melody in his head.

And for the first time all night, it wasn’t football running circles in his brain.

It was her.

Whoever she was.

#school spirits yuri #school spirits janet #school spirits xavier #school spirits charley #school spirits maddie #school spirits wally #school spirits rhonda #school spirits x reader #school spirits #wally clark x reader #wally clark #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim fanfiction

54 notes · View notes

xomakara · 11 months ago

Text

Rhythm of Desire

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You and Mingi get paired up for a special song collab that calls for sexy dancing and smooth seductive vocals and rapping. You can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | Mingi/Reader GENRE | smut with no (maybe a little) plot, uprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, praising, dirty talk RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6643 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Why does this have so much dialogue? LOL

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

“So…” You stood in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, watching Mingi through the reflection. “Is this it? Are we just going to stare at each other like idiots for the rest of the night?”

He looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “I’m just trying to figure out this part of the dance. We’re supposed to be in sync with our bodies, but I can feel when you try to do something different. It throws me off.”

“Why? It’s not like it matters if we don’t look exactly alike, right?”

He shrugged. “We’re singing about sexual innuendo, so it needs to feel real.”

“Mingi,” you sighed, running a hand through your loose hair. “We’ve worked together on other projects before. You know my moves and I know your moves. Why is it suddenly such a big deal now?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He pulled himself closer, standing behind you. His breath was warm against your neck as he spoke into your ear. “I just think maybe… maybe it’ll be easier if we could move together more smoothly.”

“That sounds good,” you said slowly, not wanting to say anything that might cause another argument between you two. After all, one thing you knew for sure was that working with Mingi wasn’t easy.

You knew he took his craft seriously. Every movement had meaning, every word was calculated to fit the rhythm perfectly, and every bit of his body language was designed to bring out his natural charisma. While it wasn’t your style to work that way, you still appreciated what he did for a living, and you respected him for it. If you didn’t care about how he worked, then why should he care how you did things?

He pressed his hips against yours and smirked when you leaned back against him. Your skin tingled from the contact and you swallowed thickly, your heart racing as his hands slid down your arms to grasp your wrists.

“Let’s see if this helps us synchronize better,” he whispered.

The music started playing again, and you watched him take a deep breath, concentrating on your movements. Slowly, you mimicked his posture, feeling the beat sync with your breathing. The sway of your hips grew deeper as your breasts brushed his chest, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He kept the same pace with you, only pressing in closer when the music called for it.

Every time he moved close to you, it felt like a taunt. As if he wanted to kiss you and show you what he really meant by the lines he sang. But you held yourself together as best you could, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

This wasn’t like the times before where you and him worked on projects side by side. No, these moments were… intimate, almost. For some reason, being this close to him made you forget everything else around you, focusing solely on the person you were touching.

A sigh escaped your lips as you dropped your gaze, looking down at your feet as they moved forward and back in time with Mingi’s. What would it be like if you actually kissed him? What would it be like if he actually touched you? The thoughts alone made you blush furiously, and you tried hard to push them away. This was your job after all, and your place was here, dancing with Mingi, not fantasizing about him.

When the song ended, Mingi let go of your wrists and stepped slightly back. “It feels more natural now,” he admitted quietly, nodding at himself in the mirror.

“Good,” you replied, knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t allow your mind to wander towards anything romantic. “Hopefully the singing part will be easier once we’ve done this.”

He smiled softly. “We have twenty minutes left. Let’s practice singing while moving our bodies in sync. I want you to mimic my movements exactly, and I’ll match yours. Got it?”

You nodded. “Got it.”

And so the next twenty minutes went by in silence. Each movement matched perfectly, and you lost yourself completely to the art of synchronized dance. By the end of it, your legs were shaking with fatigue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from him. His presence surrounded you, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to stop this new form of intimacy.

Finally, the song ended and he stepped away, stretching his arms over his head and yawning widely. “Oh man, I am exhausted. And hungry too. Wonder if the rest of the group ate.”

You nodded, rising to your feet. “Let’s go check.”

Minutes later, you found everyone sitting on the floor in one of the other practice rooms, plates full of food sitting in front of them. Everyone was talking amongst themselves and eating their meals without even glancing at you and Mingi. When you approached, Jiae, the leader and rapper of the girl group you were in, waved to you, getting up from the floor to meet you halfway.

“How’d it go?” she asked excitedly, leading you towards the rest of the other girls in your group. “Did you guys manage to make any progress?”

“I think so,” you answered, smiling faintly.

As soon as you sat down, Ari, one of the group’s vocalists, leaned towards you, eyes sparkling. “Something going on between you and Mingi? I caught a glimpse of your practice and it looked like y’all were flirting!”

You glanced at Mingi who merely shrugged, eating his food casually. “Nothing serious,” you said lightly.

“Nothing serious?” Hongjoong’s voice echoed from somewhere in the room. “I did not write that song thinking y’all would dance like that! Do I need to rewrite the lyrics to match?”

Everyone turned to look at him, laughter in their voices. Yunho’s eyes darted between yours and Mingi’s. “You should. There’s some pretty steamy stuff there.”

You flushed, leaning forward to hide your face with your plate. “It’s nothing. We’re just doing our job.”

San shook his head. “Not anymore,” he murmured, grinning smugly. “Look at you.”

You turned back to look at him, blinking as he pointed at you and Mingi. “What?”

“I’m not blind. You’re both looking at each other like you wanna jump each other’s bones.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, making you turn back to your meal.

Mingi coughed lightly. “There is nothing between us, okay?”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Seonghwa said, sounding skeptical. “We wouldn’t want to ruin this precious friendship of ours.”

“Mingi is my friend,” you protested, even though you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

“Well… I am glad that you are friends with someone like Mingi.” Hongjoong smirked. “I’m still changing those lyrics.”

You sighed, picking at your food. All around you, people were talking about the performance, wondering whether or not you guys would pull it off successfully. Eventually, Jiae cleared her throat loudly, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. “Should we take the day off tomorrow? We’ve all been working hard, and we should give ourselves a break.”

Everyone voiced their approval and began talking about their plans for tomorrow. You glanced over at Mingi, noticing that he seemed tired too. It made sense considering that you had practiced for hours and hours since the morning. Maybe it was time to call it quits and call it a day.

You stood, stretching your limbs carefully. The soreness in your thighs caused you to wince and you rubbed at them absently. “My body is aching.”

“After what you two were doing?” Wooyoung called out, the others snickering. “I think it’s a miracle you can stand straight.”

“Get a room,” Sera, the other dancer in your group, added playfully, nudging Aimee, the main vocalist. Both girls burst into giggles.

“Eonnie, you have to admit that your dancing was different than usual.” Aimee grinned slyly. “Very different. Admit it. You always wanted to do a sexy song, huh?”

You pouted at her. “Nope. Not admitting anything.”

Her grin widened. “Ah, Eonnie. Can I ask you something?”

“If you must,” you grumbled.

She gave you an innocent look before leaning in and whispering to you and the other girls. “Do you like Mingi?”

The other girls turned to look at you with wide eyes, most of them asking the same question. You fiddled with your hands nervously, frowning at Aimee. She had a strange gleam in her eye and you wondered if she was joking or not. “Like him as a friend? Yeah, of course. Why?”

Aimee huffed. “Not what I meant and you know that.”

“And if something happens, you’ll be the first to know.” You said, the girl beaming happily. “Okay?”

“Deal.”

You paused for a moment, watching as everyone got up to leave the studio, leaving you and Mingi behind. “So… we finished practicing today? Are you heading home now?”

“Not yet. There’s this part I want to try before I go home. Do you want to come?”

The offer came as a surprise, but you accepted nonetheless. Mingi wanted to continue practicing? So be it. He must have been feeling ambitious.

You told the girls that you and Mingi were going to continue training, receiving several questions from everyone, including how you felt about him, if you were attracted to him and if you would sleep with him. Finally, you convinced everyone to leave you two alone.

Mingi’s bandmates asked him the same questions when he told them about continuing to practice. But despite their initial shock, they didn’t protest much. In fact, Hongjoong laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Make sure you use protection if you end up fucking each other. I’m still changing those lyrics for y’all.”

Mingi only laughed, smiling gently as the others filed out of the room. The empty studio fell silent, except for the sound of your breathing and the humming coming from the speakers in the background. As much as you loved the music, you could feel Mingi staring at you, studying every inch of your body. Slowly, he reached out, placing a gentle hand on your hip. His touch sends shivers through your body, and you let out a soft gasp, nearly dropping your bag in shock.

“Don’t freak out,” he said softly, his fingers tightening slightly around your hip. “I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded slowly, but found it difficult to speak. What was happening? Why did his touch affect you so much? This never happened when you worked with him before. But here, right now, everything about him felt familiar. Like you had known him forever. Your heart started racing and your palms grew sweaty. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His touch remained firm, pulling you tight against his body. His chest pressed against your back, he held out his phone as you watched the demo choreography. “Okay for this part, it looks like this. But I think we should be closer. To give it that intimate feeling.”

You frowned, watching the dancers on the screen as they continued moving closer together. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that it might work. Granted the dancers didn't move that close to each other during the performance, but maybe, just maybe, having Mingi hold you like this will add an extra layer of sensuality to the performance.

You watched as the dancers were supposed to grind against each other and you couldn't help but wrap an arm around his neck, allowing your hand to brush against his cheek. "Close enough?"

"Yeah,” he breathed, his chest vibrating as he laughed quietly. “Perfect."

Your gaze lowered to his lips and you swallowed thickly. "Good."

Mingi chuckled. "Let's see how well you can follow directions then."

You whimpered softly, shifting your hips, arching your back as you tried to mimic what the dancers on the screen were doing. Mingi trailed his fingers along your skin, causing goosebumps to rise across your arms. "More. Less. More. That's better. A little lower. Okay, good. Good. Keep going."

He trailed his fingers along your sides, following the curves and valleys of your body. Your hips rolled in response, seeking out his touch. A low groan escaped his lips and you moaned, grinding your hips against his groin. With another chuckle, he captured your chin with his fingers, turning your face upwards to meet his gaze. "Much better."

Too close. He was way too close. And it wasn't helping your libido any. "Mingi…"

"Not yet," he said huskily. "I've got plans for you later. But for now, let me show you how it's done. Come here."

Your heart leapt into your throat and you shook your head, stuttering. "Y-you can't."

He laughed, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Of course I can. Don't you want to learn how to do this right?"

"No."

"Yes," he said, pressing himself firmly against you, forcing you to remain exactly where you were. His erection was hard and hot against your ass and you pushed back, causing him to laugh again.

"Come on, you're doing great," he encouraged, nuzzling your earlobe with his nose. "Just like that. I'll teach you. No one has to know."

In truth, you weren't sure why you hesitated. The idea of being intimate with him sounded enticing and after spending countless hours working on the song with him, you kind of wanted to know what it was like to have sex with him. At least you hoped it would feel similar to the way you imagined it would feel. You squirmed, wanting desperately to reach back and undo his pants. To release his throbbing cock. The thought of him pounding into you made your insides clench. "Oh God."

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured against your ear, nibbling lightly at your lobe.

"You."

He chuckled. "What about me?"

You shook your head. "Not telling you. It's private."

His smile faltered. "You aren't attracted to me, are you?"

You blinked, startled by the sudden change in topic. "Huh? No! Of course not!"

He paused, running a finger down your spine. "But you were thinking about it. About us having sex."

"I was not." You huffed. "Stop reading my mind."

"It doesn't mean I can't read your thoughts." He placed a gentle kiss against your temple. "You want this as badly as I do."

"You..." You looked at him. "You want this too?"

Mingi laughed. "Baby, haven't you realized the effects you have on me when you press yourself against me?"

You flushed, your cheeks growing warmer as he nipped at your jawline.

"We can stop if you don't want to do this anymore." He offered you a tentative smile.

"That's not fair." You said quietly, looking up at him with soft eyes. "You can't expect us to stop after you've gotten me all hot and bothered."

"True." He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. "Maybe we should take things slow tonight. Maybe you should let me fuck you, one day. If you ever want me to."

"What about after we successfully finish the project?" You breathed out, his lips awfully close to yours. "We can sneak off right after we finish performing and Yunho and his team goes on stage."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

"Damn, you're tempting me, baby." He groaned, nipping playfully at your lower lip. "Can I kiss you until then? Please?"

It took you all of five seconds to nod, closing the distance between your lips. His mouth crushed against yours, hot and demanding. You parted your lips for him, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back eagerly, your entire body heating up with desire. He broke away for a second, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking the side of your face gently. You sighed contently, letting him draw small circles on your cheekbone.

"Shouldn't we be practicing our dance moves instead?" You mumbled into his mouth.

"Later." He pulled back, breaking contact with your lips. "Kissing first, then dancing. Okay?"

You returned home to the dorms well after midnight when your members rushed towards the front door, yelling about you and Mingi. Well, there went any chance you had of getting some shut eye.

Aimee latched onto your arm and dragged you to the living room. "Eonnie, something happened right?"

"What did you and Mingi get up to after we all left?" Jiae asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did you two kiss?" Ari leaned forward, curiously.

You bit your lip, looking away in response. The other members exchanged glances. Sera took in your appearance, noting your slightly disheveled hair.

"Oh, you lucky bitch. You and Mingi totally kissed." She grinned. "How was it? Was he good at it?"

You let out a small nod, your cheeks burning bright red. "He was amazing."

Jiae giggled. "Seriously?"

"Yes," you insisted. "He kissed really well."

The other members exchanged glances once again. "Was it...?" Aimee began, holding her hand up. "Were you guys… sexually active? Did he…?"

You shot her a glare. "Of course not!"

"Wow, Aimee." Jiae shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "You always choose the most awkward ways to ask these questions."

"Even if I'm having sex, I'm not telling you guys." You stuck out your tongue at them. "I might not be leader but I am older than all of you and I have the eldest sister rights, remember?"

Sera let out a loud snort, rolling her eyes. "I knew someone was going to kiss someone this time around. We've been working with the guys throughout the years. I had a feeling it would be you and San though. But Mingi...wow."

Jiae nodded her agreement. "He is fucking gorgeous, isn't he? And so talented. I bet he's amazing in bed too."

"Hush." You waved your hand in front of her face. "Don't start."

"Aww, eonnie." Ari pouted, grabbing onto your hand. "I'm happy for you. Really. I am."

Jiae let out a sigh. "I guess I'll have to make peace with the fact that you guys are dating then."

"Hey, who said anything about dating?"

Jiae smirked. "Aren't you?"

"I'm actually not sure." You sighed. "We haven't exactly got to talking while we made out, you know."

Aimee nodded slowly. "Well, even if you aren't dating him, you still kissed him. That counts as you liking him."

"I'm going to head to bed." You muttered, standing from the couch.

"Oh no." Aimee grabbed onto your wrist. "Where are you going?"

"To sleep. Like everyone else."

"But we have the day off tomorrow!" Ari exclaimed.

"I know, I know." You nodded. "But I've been dancing all day and I'm exhausted. I'll treat you all to food, okay? Eldest sister rights and all that."

Jiae gave you a sly grin. "Okay. But don't blame us if we buy the most expensive food, tomorrow."

"I won't." You smiled brightly. "Sleep tight, guys."

You waved goodbye before leaving the living room. Once you reached your bedroom, you stripped off your clothes quickly and crawled under the covers, reaching for the phone you kept next to your bedside table. You checked your messages just to be safe, surprised to find one waiting for you.

Mingi - Sleeping? Call me.

You brought up his contact and decided to facetime him instead. He picked up in a matter of seconds. He was in his bed and you noticed that he was shirtless, lying flat on his back. "Finally."

"Sorry. My members were grilling me with questions. Not a minute passed without someone asking something."

"If it makes you feel better, the guys all asked me the same thing." He laughed as he sat up in bed. "Asking all sorts of questions."

"Ha ha, I bet they did." You smiled, leaning back on your pillows. "So what did they ask?"

"Mostly about us, our relationship and stuff." He shrugged. "And yes, the sleeping thing was probably the worst question."

"We'll get to that one later." You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. 1am. "Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Seonghwa-hyung left some food out for me. Did you eat?"

"I ate. Not much though. Couldn't really eat when the girls were being so nosy."

"Tell me about it." He agreed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Since we're off tomorrow...would you be interested in doing something together? Just you and me?"

"Song Mingi. Are you asking me out? On a date?"

"Sort of." He replied. "We don't need to go on an actual date to spend time together. Just us hanging out would be fine."

"You know I'd spend time with you anywhere, anytime." You assured him. "I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to see you."

"Ahh...what is your pretty little brain thinking about? Do tell."

"Nothing." You laughed softly. "My brain is busy processing your request."

"So cute." He laughed. "Are you alone right now?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I have my own room. Oldest sister rights."

"Good." He sighed. "Tell me...what are you wearing to bed right now?"

"Mingi, seriously?"

"What?" He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at you. "Is it inappropriate? Come on, babe. Indulge me. Don't hold back."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm wearing a t-shirt and shorts."

He let out a long breath. "Wow."

"Okay, that wasn't what I expected." You teased.

"I thought you would wear some skimpy nightie or something." He said honestly. "Something lacy."

"Maybe when I move out from the dorms." You grinned. "Can't risk the girls barging in here if we were to have phone sex or whatever else we were planning to do."

"Look at you planning ahead. So mature."

"Shut up."

"Anyways…" He paused. "You're not wearing underwear under your sleeping clothes, right?"

"I swear Mingi. You're such a perv. What are YOU wearing to bed?"

"Pajamas pants." He said as he adjusted the sheets around his waist to show you the waistband of his pajama pants. "See?"

"Those are-" You cleared your throat. "They look great."

"Thanks." He said with a shy smile. "Anyway, you still have to answer my question."

"You still want to know if I'm wearing underwear or not?"

"Yep."

"Fine but I'll show you instead." You lifted your t-shirt up to show him. "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

He sucked in a breath, staring intently at your bare breasts through the camera. "Oh, fuck."

"Glad you like them." You rolled your eyes. "I'll put my top back down if you promise not to touch yourself."

He raised his eyebrows. "Not a guarantee that I won't. You got great tits."

"Mmm... Well if you do decide to touch yourself, send me a picture."

He groaned loudly. "Are you done teasing me yet?"

"No." You shook your head, grinning. "Why?"

"Because it's going to be hard to not fuck you until after our performance. I've already been thinking about it ever since we kissed earlier."

"You can think about it now. I'll show you how hot I am in person." You promised.

He let out a soft chuckle. "That will be fun. In the meantime, how about you put your top back down and talk to me?"

"Deal."

It was finally time for the performance to begin and you stood backstage, waiting anxiously to take the stage. Sera, San, Wooyoung and Yeosang were currently on stage, performing their latest hit. They seemed confident, full of energy and having a blast on stage. Seeing that only helped to relieve some of your stress. You couldn't help but notice Jiae, Hongjoong and Seonghwa sitting together as they discussed strategy. Ari and Yunho sat next to each other, whispering quietly to each other as they waited for their cue. Aimee and Jongho watched the crowd closely, making sure everything was running smoothly.

Mingi was standing next to you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. His voice was soft as he spoke. "You ready?"

"Yeah." You nodded, giving him a quick smile. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then I hope we don't disappoint." He chuckled lightly.

Your nerves suddenly disappeared as soon as you took the stage. Everyone in the audience cheered loudly and welcomed you with open arms. All eyes were on you as you walked onto the dance floor. The rest of the backup dancers took their positions behind you as the music started playing. You heard the soft, sensual beat fill the room as you moved gracefully to the rhythm.

Your body moved naturally to the music, your hips swaying with every step. Your vocals were flawless and sensual as they flowed into the lyrics. You closed your eyes, letting the music flow through you. And when Mingi finally joined you, touched you, sang and rapped to you, the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering again. You felt electrified by the passion that pulsed between the two of you, as your hands caressed each other, bodies pressed tightly against one another. The heat from his skin warmed yours and it only served to drive you wilder. You were overcome with desire and you needed more than just the physical release. You needed the intense connection, the heart stopping emotions and mind blowing ecstasy that you both had the ability to give each other.

You had barely finished singing the last note before you pulled away, almost breathless. Your cheeks flushed red as the crowd applauded wildly. As soon as the music stopped, you turned to look at Mingi. He was panting heavily as he stared at you, his lips parted slightly. He smiled, causing your heart to skip a beat. The moment was magical and completely perfect. It was like nothing you had experienced before and you hoped it never ended.

You both left the stage as the host called for an interim break before the rest of the group were to perform.

"Damn..." You heard Wooyoung mutter from behind you. "Y/N and Mingi look good together. Really fucking good."

The guys glanced over at the two of you. "They really are amazing." Yeosang admitted, giving you a small wink.

"You guys are dating, right?" Jongho asked. "Because with that performance, there's no way you guys aren't. Anyone can tell."

"Are we?" You looked at Mingi, expectantly.

"Are we?" He mimicked your words, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Well…do we have to say 'yes' to this kind of questioning?"

"Please do." San groaned. "This shit has gone on long enough."

"Whatever. Look at them." Seonghwa scoffed, pointing at the two of you. "Just admit that you're boyfriend and girlfriend already. We'll accept that."

"We are." Mingi said simply, looking directly at you.

Your face lit up as your heart melted at those simple words. There were no doubts anymore. The answer was clear. He wanted you, you wanted him and you knew there was no going back. Everything was perfectly right.

"I'm so happy for you eonnie!" Ari exclaimed. "You guys look amazing together! No wonder you guys make such a great couple."

"Thank you." You smiled, blushing brightly. "It's not like we didn't try to deny it for so long but sometimes things just work out."

"True." She nodded. "I'm glad everything worked out."

"Same here." Sera agreed. "But honestly, I always saw you two together."

"Yeah right." You laughed. "Few weeks ago, you thought me and San would look good together. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Hey, you guys started this mess." Mingi argued. "We just finished it."

Sera rolled her eyes. "God, I wish I could pull you two apart."

You snickered as you turned to look at the others. "Someone needs to. Mingi looks like he's plotting something."

"Who knows what he's thinking?" Yunho mused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wants to fuck Y/N up against a wall somewhere."

"You are disgusting." You laughed.

Mingi grabbed your hand. "I mean..."

Hongjoong looked at your entwined hands and let out a laugh. "Oh god. You two are hopelessly in love. Go on and get your freak on. You guys aren't needed no more."

Mingi whispered into your ear. "Yours or mine?"

"Wherever as long as I have you." You whispered back.

"Works for me." He replied, pulling you closer.

"Bye bye!" Aimee waved at the two of you as she passed you in the hallway.

"Later guys." You called out.

"Bye." Everyone else echoed.

Once the hallway was empty, you leaned in close to Mingi's ear. "So..." You began. "About tonight..."

"Let's get to my place first and then we can discuss the details, babe." He smirked.

"Details?"

"Like what position we're going to fuck in, how many times we're going to fuck and whether we're doing anal." He explained.

"God, you're such a perv." You rolled your eyes. "And we're definitely NOT doing anal."

"You say that now..." He trailed off.

"We'll see." You teased. "Now take me home, Song Mingi."

He laughed. "Always the bossy one, huh? But since you ask so nicely..."

He led you outside and to his car where he held the door open for you. Once inside, he slipped his hand inside the small of your back and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. "Enjoy the ride."

"I will." You grinned.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders as he drove you to his apartment. The city lights illuminated the windows, bathing the interior in a soft light. Before you knew it, you arrived at the front door and he opened it for you.

"Wow." You breathed, stepping inside.

"What is it?"

"Everything." You sighed, taking it all in. "I'm surprised that you and the guys have such a clean apartment."

"Thank you." He hummed, sliding his hand under your tight dress and cupping your ass cheek. "As much as I love seeing you wearing this outfit, I very much want you out of it. How about I take care of that little problem right now?"

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you into his bedroom. "Mingi, what if Seonghwa and San come home?"

"No one will be home until tomorrow morning." He growled, setting you on your feet. "Besides, who could possibly walk in on us right now?"

"You sound so sure about that." You eyed him suspiciously.

"Trust me, baby." He assured you. "No one can stop us."

He stepped towards you, pressing your back against the wall. He slowly unzipped your dress, slipping it over your head as he lowered his mouth to yours. You moaned softly as his lips met yours. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, stroking and teasing as he explored your entire mouth.

He reached up and massaged your breasts through your lacy black bra. He squeezed and kneaded your flesh as his hands wandered downwards, squeezing your ass cheeks. "Mmm...so round and firm." He purred against your neck. "How do you feel in these panties?"

"Why do you ask?" You breathed out.

"Because I want to rip them off of you." He told you. "I want to taste you. Do you want that too?"

"Yes..." You whimpered, your body begging for more.

He released your nipples, leaving them tingling as he moved his hands back up to cup your face. His thumb grazed over your bottom lip as he stared down at you. "You know, I've been dreaming about having sex with you for months now."

"Really?" You gasped. "Since when?"

"Ever since the last time we collaborated on a project. Every single day, all night, I kept imagining myself fucking you against this wall." He paused, staring at you. "Or maybe even fucking you in this bed."

"Hmm...it seems like we both got what we wanted." You mused.

"That we did." He nodded. "Come here, babe. Let me show you how thankful I am for all the nights that I imagined fucking you."

Your breathing hitched as he stood before you, slowly taking off his clothes. You watched him with hooded eyes, taking in every inch of his hard muscled form. You ached to be underneath him and explore every inch of his toned body with your hands and your mouth. You wanted to run your fingers through his thick hair and hear his voice begging you to touch him. With his long, beautiful legs and his strong arms and his… Oh god, you couldn't think straight anymore. All you wanted was him and you wouldn't think twice about giving yourself completely to him. You were dying to taste him and to feel his dick deep inside you.

He was breathtaking and you wished that you could freeze frame the moment, making sure that it stayed frozen forever. He placed a hand behind your head, guiding you forward as he kissed you again. Your hands rested on his chest as he pressed himself harder against you.

He broke the kiss as he pushed your underwear to the side, freeing your pussy from its confines. He pushed a finger inside you, making you gasp. "Fuck..." He breathed. "So wet."

He thrust his finger deeper inside of you as he pressed your back against the wall. You bit your lip as you tried to fight the pleasure building within you. He groaned as he added another finger, stretching you out. You arched your back, trying to get more of him inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and trailed his finger over your swollen clit. "Suck it, babe." He commanded. You felt yourself lean forwards, eager to give him what he desired. When you felt his finger slip into your mouth, you sucked hungrily, tasting yourself on his digit.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groaned when you released his finger from your mouth with a pop. You moved his fingers back to your pussy, pushing them inside you.

“Ah fuck.” Mingi grunted as he shoved his fingers deep inside of you. “You’re soaking wet, baby. Fuck.”

He started moving his fingers in and out of you, gently circling your clit with his thumb. "You're driving me crazy, Y/N." He groaned. "I need to feel your sweet cunt wrapped around my dick."

"Me too, MIngi." You sighed. "Let's hurry this up so I can finally have you."

"Oh god, baby." He moaned as he kissed your shoulder. "You're so damn hot."

He pushed a third finger inside of you and you whimpered, feeling stretched out by the invasion. "You're so fucking tight." He groaned. "Damn, baby."

He slid a fourth finger inside of you, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand gripped your hips tightly, forcing you to lift your ass up slightly. As he pushed his fingers further inside of you, you moaned loudly, loving the way he filled you up.

He fucked you with his fingers in a steady rhythm. He kissed your shoulder and trailed his lips along your collarbone. "Tell me how you feel." He demanded.

"God..." You breathed. "Mingi, I can't..."

"You can, babe." He reassured you. "Tell me."

"It feels amazing." You panted. "Please, don't stop."

"Okay." He nodded, continuing to finger-fuck you. "Tell me more, baby."

"Oh god...Mingi...please..." You begged. "I can't take much more of this."

"Are you close?" He asked, trailing kisses across your jawline.

"God, yes." You cried out. "Please, don't stop, Mingi! Please! Ah! Fuck!"

"Oh shit, babe." He groaned, thrusting his fingers faster and deeper inside of you. "Come all over my fingers. Come for me, baby."

With his free hand, he cupped your breast and pinched your nipple lightly. He heard you cry out in pleasure and bit your neck, eliciting a yelp from you. He increased the pressure on your clit, plunging his fingers in and out of you as fast as possible. You screamed out his name as your orgasm ripped through your body. It seemed like an eternity before the pleasure subsided. You sagged limply against him, panting heavily. Mingi pressed a kiss to your shoulder, kissing his way upwards to your ear.

"How was that, baby?" He whispered.

"Amazing." You smiled, reaching for his hand and leading him to his bed. "And now I need you to fuck me. Be inside me."

He chuckled as he laid you down on the bed. He moved between your legs, parting them and spreading them wide. He gazed down at you, his eyes roving over your body. "Beautiful." He murmured.

"Mingi..." You whispered.

"Get on all fours, baby." He instructed. "Hands and knees."

You obeyed, bending over slightly so that your ass stuck up in the air. He grasped your hips firmly, holding you still as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your slit. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you good tonight." He groaned. "Real good."

"Yesss." You moaned, digging your nails into the mattress. "Please, fuck me."

"Is this what you want?" He teased, gliding his cock along your slick folds. "Do you want me to fuck you good?"

"Oh god..." You gasped, closing your eyes and opening your legs wider. "I want you so bad. I want to feel you inside me. Give it to me, Mingi."

He groaned, burying his dick in your dripping wet pussy. You cried out in pleasure, feeling the warm friction of his shaft rubbing against your walls. He began to pump his hips, slowly pulling out of you only to push his dick deep inside again. "Oh, you feel so good." He groaned. "Perfect."

"Mingi, you feel so good. So big and warm." You moaned as he moved his hips back and forth, fucking you steadily. He leaned forward to grab your breasts, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck. "Oh, fuck...I love how you feel inside me."

"Fuck, babe." He groaned. "Look at you. That's it, just like that. You feel so good."

"Fuck, your cock feels so good in me." You moaned. "God, please, keep doing that. Keep hitting that spot. Fuck me with your cock."

"Oh, yeah, babe." He groaned. "You really like that, don't you? I can tell. So fucking hot. You like getting fucked hard, don't you, baby?"

"Fuck, I love it." You gasped. "Please Mingi."

"What do you want, baby?" He asked.

"More." You moaned. "Please fuck me harder."

He slammed his dick into you, increasing the pace and depth of his strokes. You whimpered as he continued to move, pounding his dick inside of you relentlessly. He growled as he stared down at you, watching as your body arched and bucked beneath him. Your tits jiggled wildly as he continued to fuck you with abandon.

"Oh god..." You moaned, gripping onto the sheets. "Oh god, Mingi...oh god...oh god...Mingi, fuck me, fuck me!"

"Shit." He grunted, slamming into you harder than ever before. "Fuck, that's right. Yeah. Oh shit, babe. You’re taking me in so well."

He reached around to stroke your clit as he continued to pound into you. You threw your head back and let out a loud moan, your whole body quivering as you came. The orgasm caused him to jerk forward, pushing his dick all the way inside of you and leaving you breathless. "Fuck." He groaned, pumping his cum inside of you.

"Mingi..." You gasped, catching your breath. "That was...wow."

He pulled out of you and rolled you over so that you were on your back now. He kissed your neck softly, running his tongue along your skin. "Did you like it?" He asked.

"Yes." You answered, closing your eyes and smiling happily.

"Good." He grinned. "I knew you would."

"Mingi..." You breathed, shifting under him.

"I know what you want, babe." He said softly.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked.

"Round two." He slid into you again, slowly and easily. "And then maybe we'll go get some food. Or sleep. Whichever comes first."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfics #ateez smut #ateez stories #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader

130 notes · View notes