#Drop of Sun Studio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winxanity-ii · 7 days

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LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Nobara and Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic, the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

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fqlling4it · 8 days

Text

teenager in love | lando norris x popstar! reader

yourusername

liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao and others

yourusername me and the boyfie

view all 23,267 comments

user36 hello????

↳ yourusername hey girl 😁

user31 since when ????

↳ user19 nah that’s what i’m saying because she dropped a breakup song and dipped and comes back with a boyfriend ????

lilymhe why am i just finding out about this ???

↳ yourusername sorry babes, i’ll text you! 💗

user81 mother leaves for a year and a half and comes back with a boyfriend ???

user4 who cares? let me be your boyfie instead

↳ user373 get UP bro

sabrinacarpenter pretty pretty girl

↳ yourusername ahhh love you 💗

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, and others

landonorris aug 24. sun and things ☀️

view all 23,171 comments

user63 woah woah woah

↳ user84 he really though he could just sneak in that second photo and we wouldn’t notice

maxfewtrell great girl you’ve got mate

↳ landonorris she says it was nice to meet you

oscarpiastri seems like you’ve had a great summer

↳ landonorris wonderful break with some time away from you 😂

user71 thirst trapping like it’ll make us ignore that second pic

user4 he has a girlfriend????

alex_albon finally! no more fifth wheeling george and i (lily says hi)

↳ landonorris years in the making! (she says hi back!)

yourusername added to their story!

[story 1: ootd 💗]

[story 2: picnic turned into lego building!]

view story replies

landonorris you didn’t post my finished product ☹️

↳ yourusername it would’ve ruined the softlaunch i fear 💔

landonorris just hardlaunch, problem solved 😁

↳ yourusername after the song releases

landonorris song???

carmenmmundt you two are so cute, it was great having a double date the other day! 💗

↳ yourusername no third wheeling you and george anymore ☺️

carmenmmundt my baby’s all grown up now ☹️💔

user73 is that a mclaren lego set girlie? 🤔

user4 nooooooooooo please just one chance i beg 🙏

lilymhe this is still insane to me

↳ yourusername you literally knew i had a crush on him 😞

lilymhe i thought it was a joke, i would’ve done some matchmaking baby

↳ yourusername god bless your boyfriend (🤮) for getting us together ☺️

sabrinacarpenter girl get your ass in the studio and leave the man

↳ yourusername what if i tell you i wrote a song about him ☺️

sabrinacarpenter hmmm cute, send it my way baby 🥰

yourusername

liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter and others

yourusername teenager in love out at midnight! (no official photoshoot this time, enjoy the photos my man took 😁)

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lilymhe hello????

↳ yourusername hi lily!!! 😁

user821 mother may have a boyfriend but at least we get a new song

landonorris so excited to hear it!!

↳ yourusername hope you like it 💗

user832 mother just one lyric please please 🙏

↳ yourusername and you make me feel like i’ll be forever young 😁

user4 gonna pretend this songs about me instead of her man ☺️

↳ user81 bro get UP

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and others

landonorris girlfie’s new song is out, enjoy! (yes, it’s about me 😁) yourusername

view all 19,382 comments

yourusername my boyfie 💗

↳ landonorris my girlfie 💗

sabrinacarpenter that’s my girlfie btw

↳ yourusername love love love you pretty girl 😘

user4 him of all people ???? him????

↳ yourusername pls refrain from being mean to my boyfie, he’s cute and i love him 😁💗

alex_albon next double date when ?

↳ georgerussell63 make that a triple date

↳ landonorris soon soon, asking the girlfie now!

user832 ok they’re kinda cute though

↳ user93 no fr, the way he made a whole post about her new song ???

user81 mama y papa

oscarpiastri no more moping around the garage that she can’t be there 🙏

↳ landonorris i do NOT mope, false allegations

user12 ok but have yall even listened to the lyrics ????

↳ user89 like they’re so cute together ☹️

lilymhe hard launched finally?

↳ landonorris indeed! made me wait until she released MY song 😁

yourusername added to their story!

[story 1: passenger princess life 🙌🙌]

[story 2: little dinner celebration 💗]

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zylev-blog · 9 months

Text

Jazz, Bruce, and Harley are in med school together. Jazz and Harley are going for psychology, while Bruce was going for medical. The trio were fast friends and kept in touch even after Bruce dropped out.

Years later, Harley is with the Joker, Bruce is Batman, and Jazz is a successful psychologist. The trio still keep in touch, but neither Harley nor Jazz has made the Batman connection.

They have monthly dinner dates to talk shit about everyone. The Joker tried to interrupt them once, and Jazz nearly beat him to death. Joker doesn’t interrupt anymore. Bruce and Harley count this as their favorite memory and lovingly bring it up all the time.

Harley and Jazz both love their nephews. Dick, of course, is Jazz’s favorite, while Jason was Harley’s. By the time the rest of the Batkids came, Jazz had her own private practice studio and had employed Harley as a criminal psychologist. Poison Ivy kept the office looking green with beautiful plants that were only carnivorous if the Joker showed up.

Bruce wants to tell them about being Batman, since it had been well over a decade he’d been operating now. Little did Bruce know that Harley and Jazz had made the connection around year five and were waiting on Bruce to tell them.

It had become a running joke. Jazz and Harley got Bruce all of the Batman merch, and would follow Batman around, snapping pictures (which may or may not have been Tim’s idea) and would get them framed. Bruce’s favorite picture was one Harley took of him, Nightwing, and Superman after a case they’d solved. The sun in the background made them look badass.

#dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp

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caffeinewitchcraft · 3 months

Text

The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home. You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

#my writing #short story #superheroes and villains #my superpowers

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highvern · 3 months

Text

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: weed/alcohol consumption, exhibitionism, marking, oral sex, creampie, cum eating, jealous!reader, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, pussy whipped hoshi

Length: ~ 5.5k

Note: dedicated to @the-boy-meets-evil bc she likes to yell at me about this couple. also @gyuswhore beta reading this despite our divorce

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Talk [a, f, s], Casual [a, s, f], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

You won’t admit it under anything short of waterboarding but sometimes there’s a sharp sense of worry Soonyoung will inevitably ditch you for someone that shits rainbows like he does. The type of girl that probably deserves the infinite patience he treats you with because she can use big girl words to communicate her feelings rather than pretend they don’t exist or allude to them in vague shows of affection you pretend aren’t happening.

Weeks of exclusivity and you still don’t let him kiss you in public because the thought of anyone seeing those feelings you can’t name play out is terrifying. You aren’t embarrassed of him, he touches you plenty, hangs around like a shadow following your every move. You like him, he likes you. Even with the mess of your brain he’s made it clear you have nothing to worry about but that ounce of doubt always lingers.

The girl attempting to chat Soonyoung up against the wall sparks that feeling.

He looks fine as you left him. Nodding to her questions, no rush to be anywhere else. He isn’t rude without provision, and to expect it from him is asking for a change to the core of his being. But it’s times like these you wish you liked him less so you wouldn’t worry more.

But you don’t have anything to worry about. Soonyoung asked for exclusivity weeks ago. He isn’t your boyfriend, the word physically makes your skin crawl to think about, but the expectation is there. You’re exclusive. It wasn’t an explicit directive for himself but it’s physically impossible for him to even be entertaining anyone else. There isn’t enough time in the day unless a high quality clone is running around somewhere out there. Soonyoung spends more time at your apartment than his own and when he’s not at your place he’s working. And even then, he’s texting you how much he loves the after school kids at the dance studio.

So you keep silently repeating the affirmations that there's nothing for you to worry about while pouring another drink. It’d be better to look away and not subject yourself to torture but then you’d miss little miss sunshine closing the space between them and signing her own death warrant.

You know the dance well. Pretend to be coy, maintain a step too close to be polite, try to sneak in a casual touch and read the vibe from there. Blondie barely manages to lift a hand before you drop the half full cup of ice and liquor in favor of shouldering through whoever blindly wanders into your war path.

Soonyoung catches your approach, smiling over the stranger's head like he’s missed you for longer than the five minutes you’ve been absent for another drink. You’d warm under it like a flower in the sun if murder wasn’t such a tempting thought.

He catches your waist the second you’re in his orbit, a reflex. But what he isn’t ready for is your mouth on his with such unprecedented vigor for a public setting.

The kiss tastes like cheap beer and his weed pen but you don’t care. Your only concern is making sure whatever-her-name is has a front row seat to how much he wants you, and how bad her odds are at convincing him otherwise. You don’t tease for access to his mouth, prefering to licking against his bottom lip with enough tongue to make his hips buck like he’s in the privacy of your room and not pinned to the wall during a house party.

With a steel willpower, you manage to pull away; if only to smirk at the disgust on her face at the vulgarity. But not before biting at his lower lip, pulling until it pops out from between your teeth. Soonyoung might pass out from that alone.

"Oh,” you announce like you had no idea someone was watching from only a foot away. She’s red in the face, shocked and horrored as you bare your teeth and push your cheek up to Soonyoung’s mouth for a series of wandering kisses. “And you are?"

An indignant hmph! and whirl of blonde hair announces her retreat.

"Who was she?" you ask, dodging his attempt for a repeat.

He takes it in stride, tongue tracing across your pulse like no one is watching. "Who?"

"That girl,” you sigh.

"What girl?”

"Don't play stupid, she was flirting with you."

“Didn’t notice," he mumbles into your jaw.

It isn’t much but the words bubble across your skin. The tightness in your jaw melts a fraction, allowing you to indulge in more touching. More of him. Soonyoung is always ready to play where you’re concerned; a weight on your thigh proves it. You press into it in hopes she is still watching from across the room.

Serves her right if she is. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

“Wait.” Sooyoung pulls back, mouth agape. “Is that why you kissed me? You were jealous?”

He reads you too easily for comfort. “Shut up.”

“Oh my god,” he squeals. You’re tangled in his arms, suctioned to his chest while he rubs the tip of his nose across yours. “You are.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

You’re pouting but Soonyoung is weak for it and lets you go without interrogation because his next kiss lands right on the curve of your lower lip. “You just stuck your hand down my pants because some girl breathed in my direction and I’m making it weird?”

“I’m leaving.”

You barely manage to turn away before he’s got you in his arms. “No, you’re not. Come here.”

He drags you over to the table his friends managed to snag, planting you firmly in his lap without a care. An invitation you couldn’t refuse if you tried. It’s not unusual for you two to be attached at the hip. But the difference this time is that Soonyoung keeps kissing you. Your skin burns under his lips, mouth finding whatever part of you he can reach; shoulder, cheek, the back of your hand. Nothing can stop him now that he’s got permission, not even his friends watching in disgust over a game of cards.

It’s nicer than anticipated.

“Three fours.”

A few shifts across Soonyoung’s crotch under the guise of getting more comfortable is all it takes for a firm pressure to rise against your ass once again. He has no shame in how easy he folds; likes you knowing what you do to him with some PG grinding in front of an audience; what you can anticipate later away from prying eyes.

“Bullshit,” you argue, eying the stack of fours in your hand.

Wonwoo picks up the pile, grumbling the entire time.

The hand on your thigh flies a little too close to the sun as you continue playing, the others unaware that you're naked under your skirt and Soonyoung just figured it out.

The ghost of his fingertips through your folds shivers up your spine. He inhales sharply. “Babe.”

“Hmmm?” you smile, nipping at his ear. Another press and he’s teasing your entrance like no one's watching. You clamp your thighs to stop him from mindlessly starting something neither of you are strong enough to stop. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re—”

“I’m?” you trail off, looking back to your hand and throwing more cards down. “Two nines.”

“Bullshit,” Jun calls.

“Suck it.” You flip over the same two cards, a pair of nines greeting everyone’s view. It’s a good distraction from what Soonyoung is doing under the edge of the table. How he sweats around his collar and goes pink.

He doesn’t shy away from your clit swelling under weak circles. The brief thought of him fingering you to a boneless end right here crosses your mind, both of you fighting to keep quiet. But you’re sober enough to see the downfall of that particular idea.

As Jun collects the new stack of cards, you lean closer to Soonyoung’s ear. “Tell them you aren’t feeling well.”

“I’m not feeling well,” he parrots immediately. Curious glances shoot his way, estimating if he’s that drunk or if it’s something else. More likely calculating how far they can run before he starts planting drunk kisses on their cheeks.

Knowing looks from around the table watch you slap a hand to his forehead. “Oh no, baby, you’re heating up. Let’s get you some air.”

No one will believe it, not with the way his fingers shine in the dim light when they surface from under your skirt. But none are brave enough to say anything to your face.

You usher Soonyoung away from the table and towards the hallway where you can hide away for his sake. His friends don’t need to know what you look like when he fingers you into gooey submission.

Wonwoo’s voice hits your back, not even pretending to whisper. “Thirty bucks they fuck in the bathroom.”

“Dude come on,” Jun responds. “Fifty bucks they fuck in someone’s room.”

“Thank fucking god its not one of ours this time.”

“At least you don’t share a wall with him. Did you know he lets her—”

You’re well out of earshot for the rest of their not so secret conversation. Soonyoung latches to your back without concern, eager to find out whatever you have planned.

You peek into a few rooms, distracted by a pair of lips following the slope of your shoulder. A bathroom won’t do and the next room is already occupied, door locked tight. Just as you fear your options are running out, the final door at the end of the hall reveals an empty bed. When you spot the framed photo on the dresser, you realize it's too perfect to go to waste.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Sooyoung groans, knee parting your legs as he forces you back against the door. “Should make you jealous more often.”

A hand up your skirt sets to work immediately, taking advantage of the lack of undergarments and teasing your entrance. He’s good at quick fucks where you’re not supposed to. Knows exactly how to work you into a panting mess with embarrassing ease.

"If you ever,” you gasp from a delicious scissor of his fingers. “Try to make me jealous, I will rip your balls off.”

He presses in a third finger like a branding iron. “Hot.”

You snake your own grip over his zipper to provide something better than your thigh for him to grind against. Fucking against the door for anyone happening to stumble is alluring. But for what you have planned, the bed is a more convenient option.

“Bed,” you demand. Soonyoung goes with a gentle shove, tripping over his own feet to keep you in his hold. His hand stays attached, fingers curling inside you without missing a beat.

You suck at his pulse, teeth razing against the skin with the sole purpose of marking him as yours. His hips kick enthusiastically in response. “Fuck, babe.”

He likes when you bite him; when you bruise a mark into his skin to find later. Enjoys the sting of your nails across his back when he fucks you limp into the mattress and vice versa. Soonyoung’s favorite thing to wear is evidence of you on his body. Even if he blushes when you point it out, he never complains.

A swatch of red and purple framed by teeth marks blooms after you lean away and your insides throb at the sight. It’ll be a pain come tomorrow when he needs to go into the sweltering heat of the studio. But you want it to serve as a warning to anyone who takes a second glance in his direction.

He’s yours.

Soonyoung wouldn’t splinter away so easily but it’s the first time you’ve felt anything like this. The nagging voice in the back of your head: jealous and possessive. Because now you’ve got something you’d care to lose.

“Want you,” you groan, forcing him onto the edge of the mattress and commanding his lap like a throne. Another bite at his neck, hard enough he winces and shutters through the initial sting but doesn’t shy away. “Wanna ride you.”

You clench around his fingers, the wet noise of your arousal a disgusting backing track to your kissing. This might be enough to make you cum but it isn’t the point.

“You wanna fuck me?”

His forehead sweats. The initial evidence of a blush spreads across his neck, probably from booze but also the way you rock into his fingers like they’re soaking his cock. “God, yes. But here?”

“Yeah, here.” One hand abandons the grip you have on his shirt, aiming straight for his zipper and slipping beneath the fabric for a teasing squeeze. The fist in his hair is less forgiving when he doesn’t answer.

“What if we get caught?”

“We won’t,” you coo. Soonyoung knows that tone. It’s the one you use when your sadistic streak is running hot and he can’t fathom refusing whatever you’ve got planned. “I want you.”

Dropping further in his lap, you guide the ridge of his cock to your clit, a messy mix of precum and your essence that makes you both blush brighter.

“Does that feel good?”

He responds with a shaky “yeah.” His other hand, the one not knuckle deep in your pussy, gropes your ass, forcing your skirt further up your waist so he can watch himself stain the pink of your folds white. The good thing about fucking Soonyoung is he’s too weak not to give into whatever you want.

It’s good for you too. The press of his dick where it technically shouldn’t be; not without a condom. You’ve got half a mind to fuck him like this, using his cock to play with yourself until the sick feeling of his cum between your legs follows you out the door.

“Shit,” Soonyoung grunts.

Your teeth tease along his neck, another mark he’ll need to cover up rising to the surface.“What?”

“Feels good,” he gasps, rolling into the firmness of your core with untamed need.

“Can you come like this? Cover my pussy in cum?”

You struggle to stay even for the same reasons he does: you really want to feel him on your skin.

“Fuck, yes.” He goes taunt, the pace of your fist growing rabid. His voice is broken, a rough edge under your mercy. “Gonna come.”

“Don’t.” You rut into him again; the slippery feel more tempting than you’d admit.

“Please—” he whines at the next upstroke of your fist. “I’ll get you off too. I promise. Then we can fuck at home.”

“Or…you can fuck me now.”

Soonyoung cries at the offer. “I don’t have a condom.”

“That’s okay.”

“You mean…” Soonyoung eyes you with something like wonder. As if you’re a living goddess sitting in his lap and he has no idea how you got there. “Seriously?”

“I wanna feel you come inside me, baby.”

“Don’t tease me right now.”

“I mean, unless you don’t want—”

He doesn’t let you finish, flipping you on your back and shouldering between your legs without a word. Rough hands force your skirt up around your waist so he can taste you.

“Oh my god.” You roll into his eager tongue, fingers twisting into the short strands of hair to guide him just right. As if Soonyoung needs it after so many months of dedication to your pleasure.

Your own fingers pinch across your chest, sharp pain you arch into for more. Soonyoung’s rubs you until your back stiffens; a harsh suck of his mouth making you warm all over.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to come inside you,” he grunts with a wet slide against your clit.

“Yeah?” you goad. “Want everyone to see it drip down my leg? Let ‘em know who fucks me this good?”

He responds with a pained groan, a telltale sign he’s touching himself to the thought.

You're running on borrowed time in someone else’s room and can’t remember if either of you thought to lock the door. If you’re caught, you might as well make the shame worth it.

“Come here,” you beck, catching your own taste on his mouth.

He rolls to the side without much direction, eager to have you back on top. “Take your shirt off.”

“No. I’m not getting caught with my tits out.” He humps between your legs, shoving his pants down far enough they’re a nonissue. “Is that really what gets you off?”

“You’ve got nice tits. Everyone should know.”

“Perv.” You suck at his earlobe.

“You’re the one that never wears panties but a little bit of nipple is a problem?”

You abandoned the grip in his hair to pinch his cheeks tight, lips puckered for your next kiss. “Yeah, at least you’re friends don’t have to see you sucking on my tits at the table.”

Soonyoung lurches again, nestled tight at your entrance. A simple tease, the head of his cock and nothing more.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts.

It’s pathetic to moan with such little contact but you can’t help it. He’s fucking hot. You fumble for his face, bringing him back into a kiss as he presses through the initial stretch. It’s a snug fit even with his fingers earlier.

There’s no time to play with him; torture him with slow descent, taking inch by inch. Instead, you bottom out with a silent promise that next time you’ll take all the time in the world.

He’s flush between your thighs with a little more movement; a sensation you’re accustomed to except now there’s nothing in between. It’s a good feeling. A great feeling. You’ve never let anyone have you like this; unabashedly bare, only for him. Soonyoung doesn’t have many of your firsts but he’s got the ones that carry the most weight.

You sink a little deeper, gut caving. “Holy shit.”

Soonyoung’s head rolls back. “Stop that.”

“What?” Another squeeze, mold your insides to his shape, makes him whine.

You can see it. In the furrow of his brow. The twitch of his jaw. How frantic he is to stop you from dragging across his lap. Soonyoung could spend forever in your pussy and never grow accustomed to it. There’s no shame in his adoration either. If you don't want him to cum for hours then he’ll go insane to feed that hunger. You love it; revel in the flattery. But tonight, you crave to reap the benefits of his short fuse.

“Gimme a second,” he pleads.

You give him exactly one and then grab for his hand, forcing it to rub at your clit as you start a shaky cadence in his lap. There’s a glow where his cock rests; nestled deeper after he starts thrusting up inside you on every downstroke.

Defiance floods to replace the desperation you felt before. Defying who is the real question. Soonyoung who’s begging for an inch of relief? Or defying the girl who started this whole thing out in the living room? Maybe it's less about ignoring rules and more about proving a point.

You’re the one that gets to have him like this, you’re the one that gets to sit in his lap whenever you please, the person he cuddles up to at night and whispers secrets that will fade to dust come morning. It’s you at the beginning of the day and way past when the moon rises over the horizon. And he’s that for you. Now it’s time to prove it to an invisible audience who’ll never know.

“Tell me how it feels,” you demand, nails biting into his wrist.

He watches the contact with glassy eyes, refusing to blink lest he miss a single second. “Tight. Wet. Oh my god. Wanna feel you come on me.”

You whine into the next upstroke, muscles shaking. Your insides feel used and dirty already. Back arching, Soonyoung mouths at your chest over the fabric over top as you focus on the sweet grind.

Soonyoung isn’t a cocky lover, he’s a submissive one. Likes to be taken care of; directed and praised for being a good boy who knows how to treat you well.

But you want him to be. Maybe it’s toxic but the itch to make him just as insane as you felt seeing that girl flirt with him is too hard to ignore.

A hand on his throat is what finally makes him look away from where he disappears inside you. Breathing hitching when you provide a gentle squeeze before asking, “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“Me,” he pants without missing a beat.

“That's right. So fuck it like you own it.”

Soonyoung flips you underneath him, hips driving with unrestrained force at your command. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed, thrusting back inside without hesitation; forcing your ankles on his shoulders, flexibility stretched to the limit when he leans down to suck at your tongue.

“Fuck me, god yes,” you keen. You lay pliant; eager to take whatever Soonyoung will give when he’s a slave to his own pleasure. “You’re so big, might—ugh—break me in half.”

“So fucking tight,” he moans. His thrusts are sloppy, lost of the thought of your heat dragging against his cock. The fact he’s not just fucking you raw but gets to fuck his cum into you too makes anything beyond release an afterthought.

“Fuck me harder,” you demand with your nails in his chest.

He drops a knee on the bed, using the leverage to press deeper; verging on that sweeter pain you crave.

“Oh—fuck. I’m cumming,” he groans into your neck.

“Give it to me, wanna feel it,” you beg, nails scratching down his spine. “Please.”

His warmth floods your insides and you clench tight around the feeling. Worn, used. Stretched out perfectly from Soonyoung’s cock. You feel like jelly even without the buzz of your own orgasm.

Soonyoung lands a sweet kiss to your pulse. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was hot,” you pant. “God.”

“Soonyoung, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“Nope. Get off me.” You pretend to struggle underneath his weight, not enough for him to actually go anywhere but he flattens you into the mattress until you give up. “You’re so gross.”

“Babe,” he coos. “Be nice to me.”

“Be nice to me,” you mock. “I let you come inside me, how much nicer can I get?”

He kisses you, hips giving a languid roll to remind you he’s a dancer and can fuck like one even after spilling his load inside you. You shiver from the thought of another round with his spend as lube.

It’s a short lived fantasy.

Soonyoung slips down your front, mouth cataloging your skin in sweltering passes. As his fingers replace his cock to prevent leaking onto the blanket neither of you are responsible for cleaning. Even worn from a hard fuck, you suck his fingers in, ready for more.

“Gonna keep it all right here for me, yeah?” He gawks at the reveal of his fingers, rapt attention on the lewd sheen.

You ignore the question in favor of goading him. “Take a picture.”

“What?”

“I said take a picture,” you tempt him again, legs spreading wider, presenting the blush of your cunt for his inspection.

He eyes it wonder, fingers tracing through without concern for your sanity. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” He’s got his phone in hand in a flash, recording the streaks of white staining your folds. “Now that is a pretty pussy.”

“Wow, it’s only pretty now because you came in it?”

Soonyoung ignores the dig. His fingers glide through the mess, fingering it back inside. “Push it out for me.”

He snaps a few more pictures for you both to drool over later before abandoning his phone on the floor and getting his mouth back on you. His tongue circles your clit, groaning at the combination of fluids. No one has ever come inside you, which means no one has ever eaten their cum out of you. The deprived flare in your gut is one you’ll always associate with him.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, breaking under the curve of his digits between your worn walls. More violent shudders under the gentle passes of his mouth against your clit. Hopefully he’ll do this again next time in the privacy of your room; where he can lick you clean and spit the mess in your mouth for your own taste. “If you keep fingering me like that you’ll need to fuck me again.”

He takes the challenge for what it is, rubbing harshly on your inner walls, monitoring for tell tale signs. Sweat at your thighs, stomach dipping deep. The warmth in your veins flares dangerously.

“Stop that,” you grunt. He stops under the squeeze of your pussy, and has the nerve to pout.

“What?” he asks. The innocence is fake. Soonyoung found that spot long ago and it’s his favorite plaything when neither of you have a place to be and dirty sex is on the table.

“I’m not squirting in some strangers room, you freak.”

More firm grinds of his fingers against your g-spot, reveling in the clench of your jaw and how you get wetter. “Getting cummed in is better?”

“Keep doing that and you’ll never do it again.”

“You wouldn’t.” He knows you would. First hand experience when you locked him out of his own bathroom and moaned from the heavy flow of the faucet over your clit while he cried at the door after tried his hand at edging you. Or the times you’ve called him just to moan in his ear at the most inappropriate times because you felt like it.

“Try me. Don’t think I forgot about those cuffs in your dresser.” You force the hem of your top out of the way, tits on display just to torture him. “Now hurry up before someone catches us.”

Soonyoung wants to talk back but he won’t threaten his new privileges for some short lived satisfaction. He’s smart like that.

Tight suction on your clit has your eyes rolling, vision flared white. “F-fuck. That’s so good, baby. Just like that.”

You moan loud enough someone has definitely deduced what's happening in this corner of the house but you don’t care. Not with the laps at your core, or how he leans back to spit on it, adding to the mess.

With a firm tongue, he rockets you into the abyss.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum,” you chant.

He doesn’t stop. Not until your thighs tighten and hips buck into his waiting mouth, fingers deep to the hilt. You coil around the sparks in your veins. A gut punch to your nerves that’s more vicious thanks to the sick slide of his cum still lubing your insides.

“Oh my god, you’re a freak,” you mutter. Soonyoung already back to kissing, heady with your taste.

He indulges you with more touching, soft massaging up the back of your legs as you melt into the mattress. “Where are your panties?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because,” he mumbles into your thigh. “I’m not paying the fine from Uber for getting cum on the seat. Now hand them over.”

You pull them from your pocket with an eye roll and force them into his chest. You weren’t kidding about walking outside with his cum dripping down your leg but Soonyoung’s need for a modicum of public decency wins.

He shimmies the fabric up your legs before landing a kiss right over the crotch. “I will be back for you later.”

“You’re so lame,” you laugh.

He sits up, chasing the sound until it fizzes across his tongue. A lazy makeout blooms between you. Even after everything, you still want each other.

Cock soaked in his lap, it’s presented like a gift for you and you only. You slip down to the carpet, on your knees as he stands over you. “Can you cum again? For me?”

“I think so y-yeah—shit.” He chokes on another moan when you squeeze him in a tight hold.

The wet suck of your mouth on his cock is close to torture, nerves fried from all you’ve put him through tonight. The familiar taste of cum and your pussy, two things you’ve licked from his skin frequently but never together, greets you. Makes sense why he’d want more of it.

You don’t ease him into anything. Grip tight, you jerk him into the bobbing rhythm of your head, curving him down the back of your throat with ease.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts. A hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you down until you choke. Soonyoung is more than familiar with your limits. Challenges them frequently but this isn’t one of those times. He’s giving you the exact treatment you love: fucking your throat raw.

His cum leaks across your tongue, growing thicker until he throbs with a weak spurt.

Leaning back, you suck down air greedily. “Good?”

Soonyoung bends at the waist to savor the warmth of your lips against his. He pulls you back on the mattress for cuddling without concern for his cock laying out in the open.

Typical.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he says.

“Wow, twins,” you jest. “C’mon lets get out of here before someone comes looking.”

As soon as you say it someone knocks at the door like the police, thunderous raps against the wood that dislodges you from his hold and onto the floor.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!” a shrill voice calls from behind the door coupled with a jiggle of the doorknob.

At least it’s locked.

“Uh oh,” you laugh. “Times up.”

Rushing to right your clothes, your thighs stick together from the tacky mess Soonyoung’s worked between them. Looks like everyone might see his cum on your leg after all.

Soonyoung is in shambles. A blushing sweating sight with a throat covered in bruises and lips swollen. There's a wet stain on his crotch from who knows what. You can’t possibly look any better but there’s nowhere to hide. Not with the subject of your revenge waiting.

When you open the door Blondie fumes on the other side. “Why the fuck—”

“My boyfriend wasn’t feeling well,” you smile. There’s cum at the corner of your mouth, thick and drying. You swipe a finger through it suck it away just to fuck with her. “Sorry.”

She gapes over your shoulder, finding your newly minted boyfriend she’d been flirting with thirty minutes earlier staring like a deer in headlights. Serves her right.

Before she can rip your throat out, you snatch Soonyoung’s hand and pull him towards the exit.

“Oh my god,” you pant in the cool air of the street. “I thought she was gonna kill me.”

It’s quieter out here. The gentle woosh of the city takes over, tires rushing over raid soaked pavement and drunk laughter further up the road.

Soonyoung is quiet next to you. Appraising you with hesitant curiosity as he speaks. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, preparing for rejection. “Got a problem with it?”

“No,” Soonyoung shakes his head with a squeeze to your fingers interlaced with his. “Just…gimme a second.”

“Oka—”

He turns around, arms thrown wide before bellowing, “YESSSSSSSSSS.”

A few lights come on, windows filled with the silhouettes of angry neighbors yelling back their discontent at the noise of Soonyoung’s cheers.

He turns around with a proud smile you can’t help mimic.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m cool.”

“Mmmm,” you hum in agreement, next thought silenced by a sweet kiss from your boyfriend.

It’s a short trip home. The silence of the car provides room to dwell on the new developments of the night.

If Sooyoung is your boyfriend, then, by default, you’re his girlfriend. The idea is foreign and still makes your skin crawl but when you work through that layer of instinctual rejection, it’s actually nice.

Soonyoung tugs you into his orbit before you can get your keys out. "Just so you know, you really don’t have anything to be jealous about. I haven’t looked at another woman since the day we met."

"Thank you?"

"I'm just saying, I really like you. Like, really like you.” he pauses to tangle his arms around your waist so you can’t shy away from the confession. “But if this is how you act everytime you're jealous I wouldn't be mad."

“Awwww,” you gush, booping him on the noise with a smile like knives. “Make me jealous again and I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“Let's go upstairs and you can smother me with something else.”

“Freak.”

“Be nice to your boyfriend,” he chastises.

“My freak?”

His face softens, still glowing at the corners but something like fondness shines through. “Much better.”

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series: @pinklemonadeflav @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz @vixensss

933 notes · View notes

xuchiya · 3 months

Text

"Let's count" || drabble || song mingi

Mingi had you in his lap as he had his earphones on, working on a song that he thought of while you played on the switch that Seonghwa gave you on your birthday. As your character flew of the track, your body slump on Mingi as you sigh in frustration; having to play the round over and over again. You have been playing for over a hour and half which it has been long since you got to the studio.

As much as you want to know what your boyfriend's occupation, you were curious as to how he does the beat and how he perfectly time them with the vocals and other beats.

So with a gentle tap, Mingi turned to you with his eyes open, curiosly and asking you through his eyes, "I'm curious how you do it..." You spoke, pointing at the screen. He turns towards the screen then back to you.

"Well it's quite complicated to explain but i'll simply explain it for you." Your heart fluttered at how considerate he was. You nodded, enthusiastically. With the sudden boost of excitement in your nerves, you adjusted yourself on his lap to get yourself more comfortable as you always do whenever you wanted to digest a new skill or topic.

That is until you later, realise what you have been doing and slowly glance at Mingi's hard gaze. Mingi had no time to open his mouth to tell you to stand up so he could adjust the seat but you already had yourself wiggling on his lap, awakening what is not supposed to be awakened.

And he had to swallow a thick groan as your ass swipe exactly on his dick.

"I- ... Uhm let's go to it?" You awkawardly chuckle, turning to the screen with your back leaning a little further from him. Mingi scoffs, placing back the headphones in but only with one ear covering, then trapping your body between his and the table as his fingers run across the keyboard and the other gripping the mouse tightly.

You felt him closing the gap, his chest pressing on your back as you watch the cursor moves towards the blank music bar.

"Before we start, you know time signatures right?" you nodded, as you watch him open a file where at least few files with the names of time signatures are written. he opened the folders and click the first file and soon, by the speakers you heard the beats going off.

"But how do you know that the beat is that kind of signature?" you turn leaning on your left to glance at his face, he looks at you with a smirk, "Usually it is discussed but in cases like this, you come up with a beat that is suitable to your taste."

Mingi pressed the spacebar and you felt your head nodding at the beat of 4/4. Your mouth formed a 'o' shaped as you realized that they do based on this beat to create a fantastic, upbeat music.

As Mingi explains the beats, you couldn't help but be slightly distracted what is poking you underneath. Every time you moved, you felt his dick going in between your sweats and between your cheeks, some time it would nudge your aching pussy as he would lean forward or backward. You were more than slightly distracted now.

"...are you even listening?" Before you could answer that you were, you felt Mingi's large hands gripping your waist as he leans on your ear, his usual tone, now dropping to a lower and sensual one.

"maybe this could help you ... understand more."

as you knew Mingi having the biggest dick you have seen and usually you two would be fucking like rabbits in broad daylight in your apartment. Whether it would be him, drilling your pussy in a missionary position, your legs were on your sides as you were both chest to chest; you screaming so blissfully in his ear as your pussy glisten from the multiple creampies he gave you.

Or when you were both in the kitchen, having your legs thrown over his shoulders as he rams in and out of your velvety walls as knead your sides or boobs in his warm palms.

Or it would be him, riding him by the balcony. Your back facing him as you bounce yourself on his dick, creating such lewd sound as the sun sets over the horizon; behind the other buildings.

Either way, his dick still makes you flinch from how big he is.

"One..." You felt the tip slowly entering you as guides you down lower and lower on his dick. You whimper, gripping his forearms.

"Two ..." You gasped before following a sensual cry as you felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing in eight motion slowly.

"Three ... sweetheart, we're not even halfway." You threw your head back as it become too much and it always felt like that. Being full even if it was still few inches in but that's Mingi and his huge drill gun.

You heard Mingi took a deep breath in before sinking you further into his dick, "... four."

"Mingi~"

His chest rumbles as he chuckles dryly, "We still have more things to ... cover and we're just getting started."

553 notes · View notes

starful-emporium · 4 months

Text

that finale made me so emotional. i cried at all of their scenes in Ankarna's realm. anyway, here's some bad kids senior year head canons.

Kristen: Her wish for a sister is filled by Bucky, crying in her room late at night and praying together. After talking to Jawbone they learn that there are grounds to remove Bricker and Cork from their parents' home. Kristen is the only one given the option of emancipation--instead, she asks Jawbone to adopt her as well.

She falls back onto old patterns with Tracker. But they're a little older and wiser, so they see it happening and take a step back. Not a break up, but a readjustment. With her academics finally not reliant on deadlines, Kristen dedicates herself to her pantheon. They work with Lucy to bring Ruvina back to her sister, and Kristen finds herself in awe of the dedication she sees.

Fig: She puts all her time into the Bottomless Pit, something it desperately needs. Often she tells Sandra-Lynn she's sleeping at Gilear's, and vice versa, and stays with Ayda instead. On her 18th birthday her parents sit her down and explain that she can live with Ayda officially, if she wants to. Just as long as she remembers she'll always have a room with both of them.

She brings Sandra-Lynn on Complicated Women, first to interview, and then as a permanent guest host. They talk about womanhood as something living and changing and queer and complicated. It's her mom who encourages her when Lola Embers drops Ruben. They rally all the rock-hating souls and cordon off part of the recording studio. Fig never goes in there, but from what she's heard, his music has gotten better in the absence of Kipperlilly's judgement.

Fabian: Somehow, he ends up being the one to train the new dog. The Hangman is jealous to a ridiculous degree, so he spends a lot of time managing that. He starts looking into a sea-worthy vessel for after graduation, spends hours at the Compass Points Library learning how to navigate. Learning sea shanties is part of all that, of course, and has nothing to do with the way his baby sibling stares at him while he practices.

Mazey teaches dance to kids while he finishes school. She's so kind it almost hurts, and Fabian has no choice but to learn to accept love. He "lets" Gorgug skip Bloodrush under the condition of weekly movie nights, which only sometimes are expanded to the rest of the Bad Kids. The radio in his room crackle to life sometimes, with little messages from Bill when he's close enough to the material plane.

Riz: Appointed as vice president, he quits all but the AV club. He makes a bedtime pact with Sklonda, and for the first time in a very long time, they are both getting enough sleep. Someone mentions ace and aro identities to him, and he's awake enough for it click.

He finds a new scholarship for Aguefort students, and it looks scam-y so he does some investigating. It easily traces right back to Seacaster gold and Fabian. He's thankful for the cover and accepts the money with an understanding that they won't talk about it. He doesn't check, but the scholarship is offered every year after that.

Adaine: She spends the summer with Aelwyn tracking down their mom. She doesn't need revenge, but she needs to know her mom will never hurt anyone ever again. She feels Ankarna in the hot sun and wonders if that's the difference between revenge and justice. They take the long way back to Solace, the Hand-van paddling across the ocean.

When school starts, she works with Kristen to turn her inheritance into resources. Student who can pay for some of their components still do, but everyone gets what they need to learn. On the first day of class, she's asked about her summer prophecies, and tells off Tiberia for relying on her for lessons.

Gorgug: His senior year MCAT is signed on the first day by Lydia, who's teaching barbarian classes for the year. She gives him permission for independent study, and Henry gives him a shop key so he can do classwork whenever he wants. The rest of his time is spent perfecting Barbificer skills and creating a program to run at Aguefort the next year.

Mary Ann offers her quokky pet skills to help remodel his homonculous. The result is much cuter and more functional than before. She still names her highest level pet Cloaca in honor of the original, much to Gorgug's chagrin.

After graduation, the Bad Kids move in trios and pairs, and they always reconvene on the Summer Solstice, the anniversary of Ankarna's resurrection.

Kristen splits her time between Solace and Fallinel and Mountains of Chaos, the places where temples to her pantheon stand. Adaine and Riz rent an apartment in Bastion City, where they both continue school. Gorgug stays in Elmville, teaching at Aguefort and working on the side to start his own school. Fabian takes to the sea, bringing Fig and Ayda and Mazey with him.

They save the world again, a few times, but only when they want to.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #kristen applebees #fig faeth #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #the bad kids #fantasy high headcanons

569 notes · View notes

dannyricsmirrorball · 3 months

Text

opposite • aa23 ੈ✩‧₊˚

she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy? now I think I get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairings || alex albon x singer!reader, alex albon x lily muni he

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || based on sabrina carpenter's opposite. after an abrupt break up, alex begins to show of his new relationship while reader reflects on their relationship.

alt. he was holding out to find the opposite

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || sad, kind of alex hate but also not idk

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || ok ok first ever alex fic i hope u guys like! also absolutely no lily hate, she’s my fave fr but anything that seems like lily hate is just plot purpose i love her! i also never use blonde face claims but for the purpose of the song narrative i thought it made sense x

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 198,028 others

yourusername 😋

tagged alex_albon

username34 the cutest couple evaaaaa

williamsracing our favourites💙

⤷ yourusername love you admin

username72 mum&dqd frfr

carmenmmundt linda 🩵

alex_albon candid 😍

⤷ yourusername fuck off

georgerussell63 resorting to shirtless pics. shameless albono 😦

⤷ alex_albon taking a page out of your book georgie

⤷ yourusername im not complaining 🙃

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, and 109,992 others

yourusername recent flicks

tagged alex_albon

username71 y/n in the studio!!!

⤷ username18 are we finally getting new music?!

francisca.cgomes 😍😍😍

username2 alex on the vespa w his helmet 😫

landonorris ugly shoe twins

⤷ yourusername ugly papaya twins @oscarpiastri

⤷ oscarpiastri wtf-

rachelzegler u finally got ur ass back in the studio 🌟

carmenmmundt eres hermosa 🩷

⤷ yourusername 😘😘😘

alex_albon my beautiful girl

⤷ yourusername gag

⤷ alex_albon ig ill just fuck off then

⤷ yourusername also so you are on ur phone…

⤷ alex_albon my phone is on dnd baby 😩

liked by charles_leclerc, albon_pets, and 309,028 others

alex_albon lately with my lady 😋

tagged yourusername

username17 albon winning everyday

francisca.cgomes run away with me @yourusername

⤷ yourusername im coming baby

⤷ username10 fork found in kitchen

danielricciardo albon.jpg when?

username4 she’s so cutieful

username12 height difference 😫

username6 backwards cap alex u do things to me

liked by yourusername

yourusername this is really sweet ☹️

⤷ alex_albon gag

f1 the dynamic duo of our dreams 🏎️🎤

liked by username8, username91, and 24,098 others

f1updates happy 6 year anniversary to our fave couple!

tagged alex_albon, yourusername

username1 holy shit SIX YEARS?!

username23 all the people who said she’s only with him for money and fame finding out she’s been with him since b4 f1 and they’ve known eachother since high school

⤷ username4 he dropped out so…?

⤷ username23 sorry i should’ve clarified i meant like teenagers bc it was when y/n was in high school, they met bc her brother did karting with alex

username46 alex and his peace sign are unstoppable

username3 their height difference has moved me

⤷ username8 tall bf and his 3x🍎 tall gf

username61 betting on a 💍 this year

⤷ username43 same they’re sooo endgame

username12 if they break up love is dead

liked by georgerussell63, patrickh_coach, and 450,982 others

alex_albon happy anniversary bunny 🐰❤️

tagged yourusername

comments have been limited by creator

yourusername love u loser

yourusername my honey bear 🥰

⤷ alex_albon your duality

liked by francisca.cgomes, susiewolff, and 309,092 others

yourusername happy anniversary to my favourite person, six years around the sun with the love of my life. to the person who makes me laugh and smile,, i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse. to forever with you ❤️

tagged alex_albon

username81 oh god i’ve never felt more single

carmenmmundt my faves ❤️

username9 parentssss

francisca.cgomes happy anniversary to the most talented brilliant amazing wonderful person i know and her chauffeur 💝

georgerussell63 how’ve you dealt with him for that long? 😳

⤷ yourusername he’s been your boyfriend much longer x

username8 i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse GOD WHEN IS IT MY TURN

⤷ username71 oh to be y/n y/l/n’s muse

username44 SIX YEARS?! i remember her first tour when she adjusted all the dates to follow the f2 calendar 🥹

username02 wish my camera roll looked like that

⤷ williamsracing ours lowkey does 😅

albon_pets happy anniversary y/n🐰 and alex 🐼! let’s get nandos to celebrate ❣️

natalie_pinkham question finally popped?! 😍

⤷ yourusername not yet! hahaha

⤷ username19 six years and no ring…

username92 come on albono put a ring on it

username7 don’t know how albon pulled it off but he better lock it down soon

username5 bro propose already

username42 i feel bad for y/n

⤷ username16 she should cut her losses

username16 how has he not gotten down on one kneee yet jesus

username63 STILL NOT RING?

2 weeks later

liked by carmenmmundt, luisinhaoliveira99, and 320,828 others

yourusername know it’s for the better 🫤

username71 waiting room lyrics? i fear parents have divorced

username23 do we think they broke up?

⤷ username63 don’t even joke lad

username11 have they broken up?

username17 they haven’t posted or been seen together and they unfollowed… i think it’s over

phoebebridgers 🩶

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl ❤️‍🔥

username45 she’s in the studio so on the up side new music?

⤷ username12 remember when she said no more break up songs bc shes over the past and has nothing to be sad about in her relationship welp

francisca.cgomes banger song…

⤷ yourusername tiktok fix you mashup is even better 🙃

username27 NOOO THIS IS NOT FOR THE BETTER

username3 all i can think of is y/n commenting about the coldplay remix bc like “tears stream down your face when you lose something you can not replace”

⤷ username81 gonna end it all

liked by williamsracing, landonorris, and 309,727 others

alex_albon abu dhump ✌️out team ✌️we UP

tagged williamsracing

landonorris she broke

⤷ alex_albon 🤣

⤷ username1 wtf.

⤷ username17 this is not the same man that said y/n was the light of his life and sometimes the only good thing about it

username17 all men are the same.

username13 i reckon he’s salty y/n wouldn’t wait for him to be ready

username6 u were meant to be different ALEX

username52 could commit to a six year relationship but not marrying her… yeah ok

username17 yeah YOUR up

georgerussell63 congrats on the season mate must’ve had a great support system 🙂

⤷ username10 man is livid

⤷ username67 he’s basically lost one of his closest friends bc his best friend strung her along for over half a decade

⤷ username2 hmm i agree obviously it seems alex was the reason they broke up but acting like he didn’t love y/n is kinda crazy

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, and 450,029 others

alex_albon tis the sea-sun 🎅

landonorris all those bags for one?

⤷ alex_albon don’t pack light 😉

⤷ username82 there’s no fucking way

username81 guys it’s probably just a friend lol

username15 weird but ok

username17 they broke up let him move on 🙄

⤷ username27 two weeks ago…

username09 rip

username8 no way he’s already moved on

username27 guys this could just be a friendly trip like there are other people there as well

username61 y/n’s gone MIA and alex is out posting his thai land holiday

⤷ username7 people process things in different ways

liked by emmaraducanu, alex_albon, and 120,982 others

lilymhe 📍🇹🇭

username81 this is the girl in alex’s post?

username11 pretty!

username23 liked by alex albon…

username09 slaying the off season 😍

username7 who is this girl?

⤷ username4 she’s an american pro golfer in the lpga

carmenmmundt 😍

⤷ username71 rip parents are divorced and i think alex got gr and carmen

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 309,091 others

alex_albon new year new goals

username45 new year new gf lol

username6 albon tryna soft launch?

landonorris simp

username11 i wonder how y/n feels…

⤷ username3 this has to be a blow to the heart

⤷ username17 hope she has him blocked

williamsracing ready for the new szn albono 💙

username11 lily wearing his helmet ☹️

⤷ username4 same one y/n used to use…

⤷ username88 how do u know it’s her

⤷ username13 just guessing

username18 fucking hell

username61 and they told me people grieve in different ways…

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, and 408,928 others

yourusername happy new year 🌟 been locked in the studio 🤍

username72 girl tryna play it cool but the tolerate it lyrics giving her away fr

username25 SIX YEARS

username42 she’s been locked in the studio while alex is out soft launching his new relationship lol

⤷ username7 new album about to hit

francisca.cgomes dress 😍

username61 “some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world”…

username7 some people making it sound like alex never lived y/n

⤷ username63 no i think it’s that he seemed to love we so much but his actions compared to y/n are very odd

carmenmmundt feliz año nuevo 🩷

⤷ username71 phew they’re still friends

username71 y/n out of hiding!!! 🥹

username6 rep era 🖤

⤷ username23 more like ttpd 😳

albon_pets happy new year y/n 🐰🥳

⤷ username18 she’s still their bunny 😖

liked by carmenmmundt, alex_albon, and 183,093 others

lilymhe ❣️

emmaraducanu wag duties ✌️

⤷ lilymhe 😂🥰

username17 yeah this really hit,, lowkey missing y/n

username7 she’s in bahrain?! welp

username55 awww she’s wearing his merch 🥹

⤷ username6 so cute she’s wearing the merch his ex gf helped design xx

username12 ok i love y/n but lily is soooo pretty

username63 new wag!

carmenmmundt love

williamsracing 💙

liked by username23, username16, and 23,099 others

f1updates new f1 couple confirmed! pro golfer and rumoured girlfriend of alex albon spotted in the paddock for the first time seemingly confirming the couples status. there is a lot of discourse among fans regarding how quick the williams driver has moved on from his last relationship with singer y/n y/l/n, the pair were together for six years after abruptly splitting following their six year anniversary.

tagged alex_albon, lilymhe

username63 i mean they’re cute but i miss y/n

username17 so cute 😍 much better suited to eachother

⤷ username82 i love that they’re both athletes so they understand each other more

username99 she matches alex’s energy 😍

username44 he looks so happy 🥹

username13 cute couple

username1 they will last i think

liked by lilymhe, williamsracing, and 299,928 others

alex_albon bahrain tested: car ✅ food ✅ greens ✅

tagged lilymhe

username71 HARD LAUNCH

lilymhe need to work on that swing

⤷ alex_albon yeah you should

⤷ lilymhe oh!

lilymhe pretty sweet caddy 🥰

williamsracing things we like to see 💪

username2 awww they’re so cute

username14 couple goals

username23 parents ❤️

username2 they’re perfect together

landonorris 🔥

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and 309,727 others

yourusername if i don’t laugh ill cry xx

francisca.cgomes sabes q és linda?

⤷ yourusername i love u

username1 prettiest

username09 stop she defs saw alex’s post

username23 all men do is lie

carmenmmundt ❤️❤️❤️

logansargeant sunscreen?? 🧴

⤷ yourusername so funny logs

⤷ username2 their friendship 🥰

username7 i feel so bad for her

username16 everyone breaks up she should get over it

username12 six years…

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 239,029 others

lilymhe triple M dump 🇲🇨🇨🇦🇺🇸 with some ⛳️ in between

tagged alex_albon

username71 oh my god she’s the most beautiful girl in the world

alex_albon my beautiful girl

alex_albon wow 🤩

alex_albon prettiest in the universe bunny

⤷ lilymhe 🐰❤️

⤷ username62 THEY HAVE HIT THE PENTAGON

⤷ username3 he’s so?! not the bunny nickname… have some shame albono

username45 rip

username82 she is out of this world 😍

username43 idk if anyone knows what im talking about but i remember this interview a couple of years ago where alex said his celeb crush was this one tv actress, ive forgotten her name but i remember she looked exactly like lily does

⤷ username6 his perfect type 🥰

⤷ username47 remember who he was with then…

⤷ username82 my girl y/n catching strays all the time

liked by oliviarodrigo, iamrebeccad, and 451,928 others

yourusername i scream inside to deal with it like AHHHAEGEGBDBDHEHJEJDNXNJE

tagged oliviarodrigo

username45 girl is going through it

username22 “you’re the only girl i’d ever want” yeah ok liar

liked by yourusername

oliviarodrigo girl-

⤷ yourusername happier, pretty isn’t pretty, & stranger is a lethal lineup. don’t ask why i know… 💜

⤷ username42 wooh deadly combo

⤷ username25 just two ‘teenage’ girls who make the most gut wrenching twisted experiences sound like fairy dust

liked by oliviarodrigo, yourusername

username5 bunny nickname was sacred i can’t believe this 😖

username16 last slide is so real girl 😩

francisca.cgomes validddd

username11 i really don’t think she’s taking all of this very well

⤷ username18 u think?!

liked by lilymhe, patrickh_coach, and 230,838 others

alex_albon happiest with my girl

tagged lilymhe

username23 day b4 y/n’s birthday…

⤷ username45 he knows what he’s doing

username28 he’s never looked happier than with lily 🥰

lilymhe my silly boy

landonorris whippeddd

username67 pinterest couple 💌

username18 i love that they seem like best friends as well

username61 i want what they have ☹️

username77 his girl awwww

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, georgerussell63, and 509,983 others

yourusername opposite out now 🌟🐰

username23 the golf fit and bunny emoji SHES MESSY!

alexandrasaintmleux trop belle 🩷

username8 nah not the golf outfit when his current gf is a pro golfer…

username17 “she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy?” after his ig post rlly hits

username13 i wanna hug her 🫂

username62 really her eternal muse….

username37 does she step out the spotlight so u bathe in it? GAGGED HIM

⤷ username2 righttt like especially since when they were together she was always the more famous one and he was the bf

georgerussell63 🤩

⤷ username11 alex may be his best mate but he hast to stan

username16 “i’ll never stop writing songs about you” well she didn’t lie-

username34 them always joking about how alex was a bad texter but now he’s with lily he’s suddenly the fastest replier ☹️

⤷ username9 “oh so u can reply just to not me” 🫤🫤

carmenmmundt so good ❤️

⤷ yourusername ily

francisca.cgomes TRYNA TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT ITS KINDA FEELING LIKE THE OPPOSITE

⤷ yourusername my best friendddd

username8 u were holding out to find the opposite is CRAZY

username92 “you knew i would see that” 👹👹

username6 “face like that other girl your in love with” OH OH OH

username63 “i know now even if i tried to change that somehow you’d end up with her anyway” alex albon when i catch you

username77 “when you said i’m beautiful was i bein lied to?” SHUT UP

⤷ username6 when he’d call her the prettiest in the universe…

username23 just rip my heart out and stomp all over it

2 years later

liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, and 1,340,982 others

yourusername recents flicks x

username17 oh my god that dress is everything

username4 her and drew 🥰

drewstarkey 😍

username8 i really think she’s finally healed and that makes me so happy

alexandrasaintmleux can still hear charles singing sky fall 😭

⤷ yourusername remind me to never give him the mic at karaoke again

⤷ username45 so happy they still keep in touch

⤷ username92 yeah same but i also miss her and carmen&george

⤷ username67 what happened? 🙃

⤷ username92 well nothing specific but they stayed friends after her and alex broke up but i guess it just got kind of complicated and now the only interactions were really see of them is them liking each others posts

francisca.cgomes that dresssss lindaaa 🩷🌟

username62 pretty

username17 awww her and drew look adorable

⤷ username4 idk i still think she’s trying to find someone to recreate what she had with alex and it still hasn’t work but drew is the closest she’s come

⤷ username23 all while he’s still with the girl he got with like two weeks after they broke up

liked by williamsracing, georgerussell63, and 1,098,993 others

alex_albon she said yes! i can’t believe i get to marry my dream girl, as soon as i saw your face i knew i was gonna marry you. forever us, i love you 🐰

tagged lilymhe

username81 WHAT?!

username62 oh my god i would hate to be y/n rn

username12 after 2 years… but strung y/n along for 6 with not even a hint of a ring

⤷ username1 when yk yk i guess

georgerussell63 congrats mate x

carmenmmundt ❤️

username72 y/n y/l/n found screaming crying

⤷ username3 y/n is unbothered,, she has a man and is sooo over alex

lilymhe can’t wait to marry you,, to forever with you ❤️

⤷ username17 “to forever with you” i want to kms that’s exactly what y/n said on her last post w alex

alexandrasaintmleux congrats you guys ☺️

⤷ username4 oh to be in kika alex and y/n’s gc right now

landonorris ggggg

username71 this has to be slap in the face to y/n

albon_pets congrats alex 🐼 and lily 🐰 we love you guys ❤️

⤷ username44 albon pets using the bunny emoji for lily now when it was always for y/n is heartbreaking

username5 yellow cab light theory 🙃

⤷ username77 ??

⤷ username5 i just remember in satc miranda saying men are like cabs: “When they're available, their light goes on. They wake up one day and decide they're ready to settle down, have babies, whatever, and they turn their light on. The next woman they pick up — boom! That's the woman they marry.”

⤷ username14 yeah it also about how love isn’t about commitment but rather timing lolllll

⤷ username77 ohhhh so alex’s ‘light’ turned on after breaking up with y/n and it’s not that he’s more committed to lily but rather the timing is better for him than it was w y/n?

⤷ username5 basically 😳

liked by carmenmmundt, oliviarodrigo, and 1,997,928 others

yourusername you were holding out to find the opposite 🙃🐰

username61 they have hit the pentagon (again)

username1 oh my girl i thought we’d moved on

username73 she’s still at the restaurant 💔

username9 posting this while she has a whole ass bf 😭

⤷ username88 she gafff about that man in comparison to alex,, alex hung the stars for her

username23 “how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure?”

username14 “i saw you met somebody and im jealous as hell that i can’t even stomach loving somebody else” farkkkk they still kill me

⤷ username9 it’s been 2 years and she still can’t stomach it 🫤🫤😫

francisca.cgomes ❤️

username18 people using lyrics from emails i can’t send rn is making me want to cry ☹️

alexandrasaintmleux belle 🩷

username42 THE BUNNY NOOO

username16 everyone saying she’s moved on and doesn’t care obviously doesn’t remember how hard the break up hit for her like she was in love with that man

⤷ username45 they were meant to grow old together ☹️

⤷ username33 “i care but i don’t”

username62 he did end up w her anyway….

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

first alex fic!!! definitely not the last but pls let me know what you think xx

739 notes · View notes

emocheol · 4 months

Text

seventeens pet name for you

seungcheol

baby

loves to be a caretaker so having you be his baby is natural.

he’s always holding you in his arms, almost like he’s trying to protect you from the world and keep you to himself.

when you’re tired you actually get into baby mode and he loves doting on you, knowing that you won’t fight him on it.

“baby, don’t worry i’ll do that for you”

“baby, come give me a kiss”

“baby, i missed you so much”

“baby, you know i’d do anything for you”

jeonghan

angel

sure, he’s the angel of seventeen but you’re his angel.

always says that you were sent from heaven just for him because of how perfect you are, hence an angel.

when he sees a new picture of you he’ll screenshot it and draw a halo over your head and send it back to you with a text that says ‘your halo is shining so bright, my angel’ (love makes him cheesy)

“angel, let’s stay in bed today”

“angel, can you do my hair?”

“angel, i hope you know im obsessed with you”

“angel, you’re the only one for me”

joshua

love

such a classic and gentle name, just like joshua.

he loves you so much the only word that he can think of when it comes to you is love.

if anyone calls him a simp he will gladly own that title because, duh, you’re his partner! of course he’s gonna simp over you!

will do whatever you want at the drop of a hat. he’ll even suggest cancelling his schedules if you want him to stay home, you decline but quite literally have to push him out the door to leave.

“love, come cuddle with me”

“love, i hate every second that i’m away from you”

“love, let’s get matching outfits”

“my love, you’re so perfect”

jun

sweetheart

actually spent a lot of time contemplating what your pet name should be. he didn’t want to get it wrong!

tested way too many names over multiple weeks, seeing if they rolled off the tongue, but none of them did.

finally lands on sweetheart, when he says it for the first time he knows he’s found the perfect name.

now he barely says your name, saying that sweetheart encapsulates your entire being.

“sweetheart, want me to do the dishes?”

“sweetheart, can you read me a story?”

“sweetheart, do you know how much i love you?”

“sweetheart, you’re my favorite person of all time”

soonyoung

honey

soonyoung thinks you’re sweet like honey, so he just has to call you that!

you have the same nickname for him which results in all your friends pretending to gag when you both start calling each other honey. they say it’s sickening, sickeningly sweet

likes to dote on you, would wait on hand and foot if you told him to.

“honey, do you need anything before i leave?”

“honey, i’m home!” (his favorite phrase)

“honey, let’s go on a date tonight”

“honey, you’re the sweetest person in the world”

wonwoo

babe

has always thought that pet names were cringe but when you started calling him every sweet name under the sun he knew he had to come up with one for you.

landed on the classic ‘babe’, he says it flows well, its natural when he’s talking to you now.

doesn’t want anyone else to hear him call you it, so he usually sticks to saying it at home or whispering it to you.

“babe, stay by my side, i don’t want anything happening to you”

“babe, don’t get up yet it’s too early”

“babe, you wanna see my new game?”

“babe, i adore you”

jihoon

baby

another natural caretaker, loves to be the big strong man in the relationship so naturally you’re his baby.

gets salty when you try to dote on him since he knows he should be doing it to you instead.

landed on it because you were pouting once and he said the resemblance to a baby was uncanny.

“baby, you don’t have to stay at the studio with me”

“baby, get some sleep”

“baby, let’s stay in tonight”

“baby, i know i don’t show it as much as i should, but i’m eternally grateful for you”

minghao

darling

claims that their song ‘darling’ is about you to try and make it special (it was just a coincidence but you’ll take it)

says you’re like a sparkling jewel, so perfect, so enchanting, and so darling

always talks to you in the most endearing tone, he can never be mad at you.

“darling, what do you want to have for dinner?”

“darling, let me take a picture of you”

“darling, don’t forget to call me on your break”

“darling, you’re so precious to me”

mingyu

sweetie

loves to bake you desserts and say something like ‘a sweet for my sweetie’.

thinks you’re so sweet and lovely that sweetie is a given name for you.

food is his love language so he’s always making you meals and sweet desserts.

“sweetie, try this new dish i made”

“sweetie, give me a kiss before you go”

“sweetie, give me a bite of that”

“sweetie, you’re it for me”

seokmin

love/lovie

this man is simply obsessed with, so so utterly in love, hence the name love.

everyone swears they can see hearts in his eyes when he looks at you or talks about you.

couldn’t think of a good name for you so he went to his friends being like ‘i’m so in love with them but i can’t think of a pet name! wait… love!’

“lovie, don’t forget about me :(” (you’re just going to work for the day)

“love, do you want to come to karaoke night?”

“lovie, i’m your favorite guy, right?”

“my love~, i wrote this song for you, wanna hear it?”

seungkwan

boo

yes, his nickname for you is his last name. no, it’s not weird! he’ll call you mrs./mr. boo because he can’t wait until you have his last name.

when some calls for ‘boo’ you both turn around, thinking it was for you. this just makes you both laugh and look at each other like you had a little inside secret that no one else understood.

he’ll always say it with literal hearts in his eyes.

“boo, have a good day at work”

“my boo~, i miss you”

“boo, do you want to go have a spa night?”

“my boo~, i love you to the ends of the earth”

vernon

babe

also thinks pet names are cringe so he settled on the most obvious and classic one.

but then actually he starts to like it (to his horror), and starts to call you it all the time.

only ever calls you babe now, and will be salty if you call him by his first or middle name.

“babe, get ready i’m taking you on a date”

“babe, i got you a present you’re gonna love it”

“babe, we should get a cat to be the ring bearer at our wedding”

“babe, you know i love you, right?”

chan

honey

you originally started calling chan ‘honey’ first.

he always got so giddy whenever you said it that he decided he was gonna start calling you that too, to make you feel as special as he did.

thinks it the most special name in the world and if anyone makes fun of it he’ll go to war over it.

“honey, let me show you the new dance i learned”

“honey, did you get a haircut? you look beautiful as ever”

“honey, let’s stay in bed today”

“honey, you’re my everything”

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt imagine #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenario #svt imagines #svt scenario #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #vernon x reader #seungkwan x reader #joshua x reader #wonwoo fluff #mingyu fluff #seventeen

669 notes · View notes

luxurychristmaspudding · 2 months

Text

Million Dollar Baby | FUTUREPROOF

prologue

summary: you're in la, and it's time to get this show on the road.

pairing: f!rockstar!reader x actor!joel

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. one minor drug reference. reader has hair and can swim.

wc: 3.3k

an: for @schnarfer, my copilot, and @itsokbbygrl and @undercoverpena. thank you for your patience while i've yapped and not written about these two <3

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

series masterlist | main masterlist | follow @pudding-notifs for updates!

The sunlight is warm, the breeze is mellow, and the bedsheets smell like home.

Soft, so soft, cool against your warm limbs - every nudge of smooth linen cocooning your body against the waves of wakefulness. You stretch your legs - muscles loosening, mind empty - then your toes, and bury your face back into the pillow with a quiet grunt.

Everything feels achy today. Just fatigued - cooped up on planes, huddled in the studio, hunched over a notebook in what Jack has fondly dubbed your ‘shrimp position’. But this feels good. Spreading your legs to starfish beneath the covers, breathing in the scent of your own shampoo, before shooting your arms to the headboard and pressing your palms against it. Sinew relaxes a little more, spine crackling.

One eye winked open finds the room washed in gold, sheer curtains fluttering in the floor to ceiling windows, just obscuring the crest of the hills beyond the pool.

You close your eyes again, breathing in deeply. Your tongue tastes sour, ashy - the only blot on the morning; a reminder of last night. The whirlwind of faces and places you’d been swept through by Eimear after leaving the studio, blurred into one soundscape while you were dreaming.

You following her - a satin palm curled around your forearm, the gloss of her braids. Have you met…. Completely sober, brain ringing in your skull from ironing out kinks on the record, you’d made your excuses and escaped as quickly as possible from the glitteringly dark bar back to the house. Closed your eyes against the buzz of the Uber’s window, dragged yourself to the sofa, and shared a joint with Adie before hauling yourself to bed.

There’s a clench in your gut, a rumble. You groan, hunger creeping in, bubbling in your throat. You swing a hand away from the headboard, scrabbling about on the nightstand for your phone, squinting at the screen over the duvet.

No missed calls. No urgent texts.

But at some point in your slumber, you’d snoozed your alarm.

You drop your face into the pillow again, mouthing a fuck into the cotton. Plans of eating at the café in the next neighbourhood over eviscerated by a fuzzier head. Again.

You throw the covers off your legs, rubbing roughly at your face, and stand with a yawn. Pick up the pants and t-shirt you’d discarded on the floor last night, sling them over the chair in the corner of the room, and then move to retrieve your bikini from the balcony beyond the curtains.

A fine day out. Still warmer than you’re used to summer being, sun hot on your face even this early, but the view - the view. Spoiled by the label, high up enough to be away from the bustle, but close enough to watch the lights and the smog and the constant glimmer of dreams.

You step back into the bedroom to tug and tie the swimsuit on before swinging open the door. The landing is quiet, empty. The same as you pad down to the kitchen.

Everything is white, and where it’s not white, it’s glass and natural wood. It’s beautiful, it’s serene, and - as Eimear had said when you first arrived - very rock and roll.

The wide, clean kitchen, marble-topped island stretched all the way across the space. Perfect for hosting. The sunken living room and its floating hearth. The rugs and the throws, the cushions, the potted plants, fading smell of incense. The bifold doors thrown back so you can step straight out to the patio and then the pool - sparkling, rippling in the morning sunlight.

The doors Adie obviously hadn’t closed last night. The bottle of champagne he’d left open on the side.

You give it a sniff as you walk past, deciding it isn’t worth it as you step towards the fridge instead. You pour a glass of orange juice and poke around for something else, grabbing a tub of mango you’d picked up yesterday. Croissants from the bread bin on the counter, then your sunglasses from where they sit next to the flowers Nick had sent you.

The patio is hot underfoot, and you all but skip your way to one of the loungers set up by the edge of the pool, clutching your breakfast. You slide your sunglasses onto the bridge of your nose, settling cross-legged on the pale cushions. Orange juice cradled between your thighs, croissant and mango in front of you.

Nick Walton, Hollywood’s newly heralded genius. You’d thought he’d be wanky at first - obnoxious, loud, demanding - but the man who had introduced himself to you months ago, who had joined you in the studio over the last week, was quiet, kind. A crooked smile, an asinine sense of humour. Ready and generous with praise and votes of confidence, gentle direction offered when needed. He’d been a dream to work with, so much so that the whole band had been quick to tell him they’d love to work together again - if he wanted to. And he did.

You savour the earthy sweetness in your mouth, rip a corner off the croissant.

It was exciting. Being privy to such a project, being sent rough cuts and signing NDAs. It had been something to do on the road - a distraction from the songs you were playing every night, a challenge to fit to a brief. Something you, as a band, had never really done before. Working not just to convey a message, a feeling, but a place. A story beyond what you knew.

You lick the mango juice from your fingers, your wrist, swipe the crumbs from your lap. Finish your orange juice in great gulps, enjoying the coolness, the tartness. You wanted Nick to be confident he’d made the right choice. Confident that you respected his work, appreciated it, wanted to uplift it.

The extravagant florals that had arrived before Eimear had whisked you away last night confirmed that. The only thing left now was to get the stamp of approval from Joel Miller - co-producer, leading man.

So squeaky fucking clean you wonder whether the air around him sparkles.

You stand from the sunbed, reaching up, wiggling your fingers at the sky, before swooping low to touch your toes. Almost. You fold your sunglasses up next to your glass, leaving them to tiptoe around the edge of the pool. Moving to stand at the top of the tiled steps, up to your ankles in the water. Cool, cool, cool. The LA skyline stretched out ahead of you - concrete jungle sprawled under clear blue sky.

Joel Miller somewhere out there, getting ready to gather his thoughts on the tracks. A big deal. Critically acclaimed films, Oscars and SAG Awards, nominations up the wazoo. Something lurches in your stomach, a familiar that has tread with you since the beginning. The doubt, the worry. The almost overwhelming expectation to disappoint.

Maybe he won’t like you. Maybe he’s never liked your music. Maybe he’ll wear sunglasses the entire time and won’t speak.

Don’t be childish. You take a step deeper into the pool.

Maybe he won’t.

Maybe he’ll be everything people say he is. Unfailingly polite, sweet. Humorous, if prone to a little grump now and again. Maybe he’s heard a few songs on the radio.

You take a step deeper.

Maybe he’ll be taller than you think. You know he’s handsome. Broad, strong. Greying curls, deep, sad eyes, full mouth and scruffy beard. He’d suited the cowboy get up in the cuts of Red Sky. Not that you ever thought about that when you’d crash in your hotel room at the end of a night. Or his hands. His thick fingers, or the bulge that strained against his low slung belt -

You crouch, arms joined over your head. Feet anchored, pressure forced down as your legs extend and lift, arcing towards the water.

The dive sweeps the remnants of sleep, worries, thoughts of Joel Miller away. The water fills the conches of your ears, softening sound. You close your eyes, lost to the peace of the dark. Coolness slips past, greases joints, cradles you gently. You kick and pull until your lungs strain, pushing one foot off the floor to pop back up to the surface, wiping chlorine from your eyes, your lips.

You look back over the city, treading water, before turning to face the house. Much bigger than it needs to be - but pretty and green. There are plants everywhere - trees and flowers, grass to your right. Sweet honeysuckle on the breeze, musk of heated tarmac.

You tip your head back, and your body follows. Sound muffled again, you blink your eyes open to look up into the blue. Endless. You search for birds, letting it calm you - how small you really are. How, no matter how many people gather in crowds, there are more who simply couldn’t give less of a fuck about who you are.

It doesn’t matter if Joel Miller is one of them.

You swim a few leisurely laps before pulling yourself out and wrapping a discarded towel around your shoulders, drying off just enough to come back inside the house. You’re brewing coffee when Adie emerges - freshly showered, shirt only buttoned halfway, sunglasses on.

You smirk at him, and he flips you off, wincing as he takes a seat at the island. He rests his head in his hands.

“Morning, rockstar,” you beam, pouring the drink into mugs, and he grunts in response.

You scrub a rough hand over his buzzcut, and he grumbles out a low “Fuck off,” voice low and raspy.

You snicker, placing a steaming cup beneath his hanging head. He’s always suffered the worst with hangovers, unaided by the five years he has on the rest of you.

“Come on, dude,” you grin, sliding onto the seat next to him, rivulets of pool water trickling down your back. “You’ve gotta look sprightly. You’re seeing George today, right?”

“He’s seen me worse,” he grumbles, taking a sip. He pulls his sunglasses down his nose just enough to give you a once over. “Aren’t you seeing Nick?”

You nod, blowing steam away from your cup.

“And Joel.”

“Joel,” Adie repeats, like he’s rolling the name around his mouth. “Still want to do disgusting things to him?”

You pull a face, knocking his shoulder, and he clutches his stomach with a groan.

“Ew, Adie.”

“Don’t move me,” he gasps, “I’m not at my best.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you snipe, eyeing him over your coffee. He glances back at you once he’s taken a couple of deep breaths.

“Well? Do you?”

You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Obviously, asshole.”

He shrugs, a slow smile stretching his mouth as he curls himself over the counter. You giggle, an embarrassed little sound, and he snorts into his coffee, choking, spraying it over the marble and your arm. You howl at him - Oh, gross, dude - and then you’re cackling together, something like excitement finally rising in your gut. This is your best friend, this is the dream. And this is part of the cycle - tour, crash, doubt, do it again. You swipe your hand down your arm, holding it out to wipe on his shirt. He catches your wrist before you can, twisting so the silk is as far away from you as possible.

“Absolutely not,” he says, grappling with you, “If I have to go upstairs to change, I will literally never make it back down.”

You give up easily, knocking your forehead against his shoulder, still giggling. He smells like Adie. He smells like home.

“You, on the other hand,” he continues, pushing your head back roughly with his palm, “Could definitely do with a shower. If only for the one and only Mr Mi-”

You flick his ear, and he crows at you -

“Bastard! I’ll find some other wanker to sing!”

- as you take off, dancing around the island, edging towards the stairs.

You put your hands on your hips, tongue in cheek.

“I knew you never liked me - y’know, you were always much more made for the attention -”

“Shut the fuck uuup,” he groans, rolling his eyes, “I love you forever, kisses, kisses, whatever the fuck. Shower,” he says, levelling a finger at you.

You bite your lip against your smile.

“Will you be gone when I’m ready?”

He nods, making to cross himself. You snort again.

“God willing.”

“Alright. Have fun. Give George my love. Make sure Cam’s got nothing in his teeth.”

He smiles, all mischief, all genuine affection.

“Will do, bud. You too. Knock ‘em dead.”

You blow him a kiss as you begin to ascend the steps, and he feigns a swing to bat it away.

“Save them for Joel!”

You flash him the finger, and his cackle is the answer to your ringing -

“Fuck you, Gilman!”

Her voice is sweet, gentle down the phone. It makes his chest tighten a little, nails dig into his palms. I miss you.

“Dad, you’ll be fine,” Sarah sighs, breath of air shooting through the line. If he closes his eyes, he can see her smile. Knowing, placating. Hundreds of miles away, back in Texas for college. Sick of LA ever since they moved here.

Sometimes, Joel reckons she had the right idea.

“You’ve worked with way more intimidating people. And from what Nick’s said, she seems really nice.”

He grunts, swiping a hand across his face, scratching at his beard. She’s right.

“I know. Jus’ want it to go well. Feel like I know nothin’ about it, just gon’ be sittin’ there -”

“Dad,” she groans, “Chill out. Pick something you remember about the lyrics. Say something about the drums or melodies. Get a selfie for Ellie. That’s all you need to do. Anything else is a bonus.”

Joel casts a glance over at Ellie - all limbs sat at the kitchen counter, munching on cereal, earbuds in.

“Okay. Alright.”

There’s quiet for a moment, and he cringes at how well she can read him.

“Sure?” She checks. He clears his throat, nodding.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine.”

He can hear her smile again.

“It will. Right, I gotta go. Call me later, I want all the details.”

He chuckles, kneading his forehead.

“I will. I love you, baby girl.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

The line cuts, three beeps, and he turns his attention back to Ellie. Takes a moment to watch her head bopping, her foot tapping, before waving an arm around until she takes an earbud out.

“Ready to go, kiddo?”

She swallows comically, giving him a thumbs up before leaping off her seat, crossing the kitchen to deposit her bowl in the sink.

“Yup. Are you driving?” She asks, crossing back over to the foyer, eyeing the keys in the blue dish by the door.

“Sure am,” he grins, taking her bowl from the sink and stacking it in the dishwasher. She rolls her eyes, jamming a foot into a shoe. “Precious cargo.”

“Joel,” she groans, standing, “I am seventeen years old -”

“Ah,” he chuckles, clapping her on the back, opening the front door. “Still my kid. Let’s go.”

She’s watching him.

He can see how her eyes keep flicking this way in his periphery, her smirk from the passenger seat as he taps his thumbs on the steering wheel, chewing his cheek.

“Are you nervous?”

His eyes find hers, crinkled with a smile, warmth hidden behind the mirth. A depth of understanding that goes beyond her years.

He shrugs.

“Is it obvious?”

She looks out the windscreen, avoiding his eye, but he can still see the downwards tip of her mouth as she tries to hide her amusement.

“No.”

He grinds his jaw, feeling the beginnings of a flush crawl up his neck.

“You know,” Ellie says, turning to face him again, “She’s supposed to be really cool. Nice. They all are, even if you don’t meet the whole band. Forget about anything else you might’ve heard. And - she’s just a person. It doesn’t matter if you don’t sound like you know enough. It’s not your job.”

A single eyebrow climbs up his forehead.

“You heard that, huh?”

This time, she does smile.

“Relax,” she says, “And if you screw it up, at least get that selfie for me.”

He chuckles, eyes scanning back out over the road. Traffic, people, lights turning red to green.

“I’ll do my best.”

He doesn’t want to tell her how he stayed up late last night watching your interviews. Doesn’t want her to know how he watched the Wired Autocomplete video three times - because you’re funny. Smart and sharp, and private. He appreciates that. Knows you must have worked hard to reach a point where others have so many questions.

Doesn’t want her to know how he then went on to watch live performances, songs recorded in front of thousands of people. Wishing he’d paid better attention when she’d shown him before. Covers sung in live lounges, radio appearances - one by Sabrina Carpenter that’s been everywhere lately, another about orange blossoms, before finding his favourite. Just you, strumming a guitar - something rare in all the other footage he’d watched. Lover, You Should've Come Over.

How he’d then tapped out your name on Instagram, scrolling back through weeks of posts. Photoshoots, festivals, tour, magazine covers. Stumbled across edits, something Sarah had taught him about. Videos, compilations of you that made his face heat with shame, his heart beat faster. He’d thought he was above it all - within the same stratosphere, unaffected by such things. But he’d been proven wrong. Taken in by your voice, your words. How you looked in that dress, the sliver of stomach exposed on stage. Your doe eyes in the dark of a bathtub, a shoot for Vanity Fair.

He’s really realised, perhaps for the first time, that Ellie is right. Ellie, who’d had your posters up in her room until a year ago. Ellie, who Sarah had taken to your gig at the Staples Center. Ellie, who’d been playing your music - loud - ever since she’d first found it. Music which, he knows now, he also loves.

You are cool - so fucking cool, so fucking beautiful. Accomplished, respected, talented. And now he’s noticed the colour of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the ease with which you perform. The way you move, how electric you are.

And he’s going to be so out of his depth.

He pulls up just down the street from her school, slow halt of tires on tarmac, watching the throng of students cross the road. A jumble of bags moving along the sidewalk, and when they part, he watches Ellie grin as Dina looks up from her phone to wave at the two of them.

His daughter grabs the backpack by her feet before leaning over to kiss his cheek. He tries to smile.

“You’ve got this,” she whispers, a gentle hand on his arm. She smiles back as she pops open the door and scooches out. “Remember, selfie - and if Vic is there, tell her I’m single -”

“I’m right here,” Dina laughs from over her shoulder, giving Ellie a playful shove. Joel chuckles, returning her yelled Morning, Mr Miller. Ellie shrugs.

“Okay, tell her nothing. I just think she’s cool,” she winks, closing the door with a soft thud before throwing an arm around her girlfriend, chatting away to her as they disappear into the crowd of teenagers.

Joel waits until he can no longer see them before checking his flush in the rearview mirror. When he’s satisfied he looks close to normal, not nervous, he takes a deep breath and pulls off.

There’s someone he has to meet.

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