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piastriprincess · 8 days ago

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naked in manhattan ! ⸻ lando norris x reader .

featuring lando norris , established relationship , smut . word count 2.5k author’s note 18+ MDNI !! yeahhhh i have no excuse for this one . something about lando in that f1 premiere suit burrowed into my brain like the world’s horniest parasite and then i had this . just me , promoting my lando is a yapper during sex agenda !!!�� enjoy <3 this is the first time i've ever written smut so i hope it doesn't suck . lmk if i should do more . title is from naked in manhattan by chappell roan (a little on the nose but indulge me !)

There’s music playing softly from the hotel bedroom — some house track Lando queued claiming the two of you needed “getting-ready music” for the premiere, even though he’s been ready to go since before he put it on, waiting for you.

“You know, you’re not going to get any prettier just staring at yourself in the mirror,” you call out from the bathroom, adjusting your earring.

“I know. I’ve already peaked,” he calls back, smugly. “Come check me out.”

You roll your eyes, smiling as you slip your heels on and emerge from the bathroom. And oh. Maybe he has peaked, because there is something about your boyfriend in that suit.

It’s navy, double-breasted, accentuating his already broad shoulders. Underneath, a clean white oxford shirt, unbuttoned just enough to see the tanned skin at his throat. He looks stupidly good. Enough to make your mouth water, enough to make your breath catch a little in your throat at the sight of your beautiful boy.

“Well, hello, gorgeous,” he grins, insufferably cocky already, fiddling with his ring around his thumb. “What do you think?”

You think you want to forget the premiere entirely, get the door locked behind you and a Do Not Disturb sign on the knob so you can ruin him properly.

“I think,” you say instead, slowly walking across the room towards him, “that this is completely unfair.”

He tilts his head, amusement flickering through his expression. “What is?”

“That you’re letting me see you in that suit before we leave and expect me to be able to behave,” you reply, close enough by now to see the way his eyes flash, the surprised, pleased sort of grin that takes over his face.

“Baby,” he whines, tugging lightly at your hand as you run it slowly down the lapel of his jacket. “We can’t. We’re already late. We’ve got to be there in, like, ten minutes.”

“You’d think that’d be enough time for someone who races for a living,” you tease, tugging him in and kissing him hard, tongue slotting against his in a way you know will make him forget. Sure enough, he kisses you back eagerly, fingers weaving into your hair and tugging lightly. Your hands get greedy over his chest, smoothing over the fabric, appreciating how expensive he feels under your palms.

“Oh, you’re gonna get me in trouble,” he breathes into the kiss, pulling you flush against him by the waist, hands roaming over the silk of your dress as you walk him back across the room.

“That’s the idea.”

He stumbles slightly, the back of his knees knocking into the edge of the bed, and he sits with a soft curse under his breath. He looks wrecked already, gazing up at you dazed, breathless, like he can’t believe his own luck.

You drop to your knees in between his legs, the hotel carpet scratching at your bare skin through the slit of your dress. He watches as your fingers dance gently up the inner seam of those pretty navy blue pants, hissing when you press your mouth to the crease — not quite where he wants you, you think. But close enough.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, head falling back, pupils blown wide. “If you’re gonna act like this every time, I’ll wear a suit more often.”

You glance up through your lashes at him, fingers making quick work of the button. “That a promise?”

He huffs out a tense little laugh. The flush of arousal is already blooming red up his neck like spilled wine, color crawling from beneath the crisp white linen of his shirt and painting his skin up to his jawline, delicate and obscene. His hand slides into your hair — not forcing, not guiding, not yet. Just there, possessive and warm, thumb brushing against your temple.

“You’re lucky we don’t have time,” he mutters as you slide the zipper down, deliberately slow. “Or I’d be dragging this out proper. Making you beg for it.”

You grin, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his briefs, and his hips twitch slightly at the contact. You can feel his cock already, warm and straining against the thin fabric. “C’mon. You really think you could hold out on me?”

He snorts, raking a hand through his already messy curls. “Fuck no. Already bricked just watching you on your knees for me like this.”

You hum in mock sympathy, lick your lips just to see how he’ll react, and a muscle in his jaw ticks at the sight. “You sound kinda desperate, Lan,” you muse, your hand sliding into his briefs and palming his hard length. “Guess I’ll have to help you out.”

“Jesus,” he hisses, dark eyes fixed on you. “Such a fucking tease.”

You blink innocently, letting the fingers on your other hand drag up the line of his trousers. “God forbid a girl wants to appreciate good craftsmanship.”

He smirks. “You talking about me, or the suit?”

“The suit is nice,” you say slowly, your nails digging into the skin at his hip bone. He groans at the sensation, guttural, and his hips kick just like you knew they would, enough for you to tug his trousers and briefs down in one fluid motion. His cock springs free, hard and prettily flushed and leaking just a little at the tip. “But this is really more what I was admiring.”

He doesn’t even pretend to hide how much he’s enjoying the view, eyes alight with hunger, chest rising and falling unevenly. “Go on, then,” he says, voice suddenly smug in a way that makes your stomach flip. “Be a good girl and put that pretty mouth to use, yeah?”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You lean forward, not breaking eye contact, and press a kiss to his flushed head, watching the way his breath catches, the way his thighs tense with anticipation under your hands. Then you take him into your mouth, slow and deep, licking a stripe up the underside of his shaft. A moan punches out of his mouth immediately, low and ragged, and his hand tightens in your hair, pulling at the strands just enough to ache.

“Fucking hell,” he whines, hips rocking up into your mouth, and you hold him there, let him feel the back of your throat, let him know you can take what he wants to give. “Look so fucking pretty with your mouth on me, baby.”

You hum around him, pleased, and he twitches against your tongue, lashes fluttering as his eyes slide shut for a brief, heavenly moment. The reaction propels you to sink your mouth a little deeper onto him, hollowing your cheeks around his length.

“Look at you,” he moans, gaze half-lidded and hand fisting in your hair. “On your knees, so fucking desperate over me in a suit. Sucking me off like you can’t wait two fucking hours to have me in your mouth.”

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, pathetically chasing the relief to the ache between your legs, and you whimper. There’s spit pooling at the corners of your mouth as you look up at him through your lashes, and when you rake your nails against his skin you can feel the muscles at his core twitch, the telltale sign he’s about to spill, and he’s chanting your name like it’s a fucking prayer and then —

“Waitwaitwait, shit — stop.”

You pull off him with a little pop!, blinking up at him, lips swollen and spit-slick. “What’s wrong?”

He blinks back dazedly then leans forward, hand brushing gentle on your jaw like an apology before he kisses you, messy and languid, tasting himself on your tongue. “Nothing’s wrong. Jus’ — don’t have that much time, baby, and I need to be inside you.”

Your knees go a bit Jello at that, so you let him drag you up from your knees and kiss you again, all teeth and tongue and white-hot need this time. His hands ghost down your sides, thumbs digging into your skin as he grips at your ass, pulling you into him with an ease that makes you whimper. Your hands fall against his chest, tugging at the lapel of his jacket, fisting the white linen of his shirt in between your fingers. “This needs to be off,” you mumble against his mouth frantically.

He pulls away, slight confusion in his eyes. “Thought you liked —”

That’s when you let the straps of your dress slip off your shoulders, the silky fabric pooling around your hips. There’s a moment, long and heavy, where his eyes flick unmistakably over your bare chest. “Oh. Yeah. Okay. Off now,” he breathes, already shrugging out of the jacket and fumbling with the buttons.

You’ve never seen Lando undress so fast, practically ripping the shirt off himself, shedding his pants and boxers gracelessly. Then he’s crowding you onto the bed, rucking your dress up your thighs with hands mapping every inch of your body they can find. When he settles between your legs, his fingers trail up the inside of your leg, pushing your panties to the side and groaning when he finds you already soaked.

“Fuck. Really are gagging for it, aren’t you?” he says, cheeky little grin on his face as his fingers tease over your center. Your hips buck instinctively, chasing the pressure of his touch.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same about you, watching you get naked like a man possessed,” you tease, voice going breathy halfway through when he starts rubbing tight, slow little circles against your clit with the pad of his thumb.

He laughs, the sound easy and delighted. “Yeah, well, you lay on the bed tits out like that and I kinda lose all higher brain function. Haven’t fully recovered, to be honest.”

“You’ll live,” you start to reply, but then he sinks two fingers into you without warning, curling them against the spot he knows you like, and you forget what you were going to say entirely.

“That feel good, baby?” he says, low and ragged, and you nod. But that’s not enough for him — never is, even when you have no time, and his fingers slow to a standstill inside you. “Use your words f’me.”

“Yes,” you breathe, canting your hips against his hand. “So good, please, Lan.”

He smirks, pleased, and begins to move his fingers again, thrusting in and out of you lazily. He dips his head down to kiss you, slow and delicate, and it nearly makes you dizzy. “Wish I had more time,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’d take my time with you, get you nice and soft with my mouth first. Make you fall apart on my tongue. Make you beg for me.”

You whimper, mind hazy as you grind against him, clenching around his fingers.

“But you did this to yourself, didn’t you?” he goes on, withdrawing his hand and sucking you off his fingers. You nearly whine at the loss of contact until he’s dragging his cock against your slick, head catching at your entrance, and your back arches instinctively off the bed. “Could’ve had me all day if you asked nicely but no, you just got so fuckin’ needy for me the second you saw me in that suit.”

He pushes into you, slow and torturous, and when he bottoms out you jolt against him with a long moan, gripping him like you don’t want him to leave. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut at the pressure. “So ready for me, pulling me in like that. Perfect fucking pussy.”

“Maybe don’t wait so long to fuck me next time,” you breathe, nails digging into his back.

“Oh, she’s got jokes, does she?” he snaps, eyes dark, and he stays perfectly still inside you.

“Lando, move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his hips and trying to roll yourself against him, but he plants one large hand on your thigh to stop you.

“Don’t think so,” he hums, grinning teasingly. “Don’t be so cocky when I’m this deep in you. You wanted this, baby. You’ll take it how I give it.” With that, he pulls out nearly all the way and slams back in with one hard thrust that makes you see stars.

“That what you wanted?” he groans against your ear. “For me to move like that? Ruin you like you tried to ruin me?”

“Didn’t hear you complaining when you were moaning my name five minutes ago,” you gasp, breath hitching as he starts to move inside you again — deep, controlled strokes, rolling his hips against yours.

“That’s because your mouth was on me,” he pants, hand sliding up your thigh and gripping hard enough to leave a bruise. “Hard to complain when I’m halfway to heaven.”

Your laugh dissolves into a near-pornographic moan as he pistons his hips into yours, faster now, obscene sounds filling the room. “Taking me so fucking well, baby,” he says, voice tight with effort. “So fucking good for me, like this pretty little pussy is mine.”

“It is,” you whine before you can stop yourself, head rolling back against the pillow at the possessiveness of it, shooting straight up your spine like an electric shock.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pace stuttering for a second. “Say it again.”

“It’s yours, Lando — fuck — I’m yours.”

“Jesus,” he whines, hips snapping into yours with a renewed sense of urgency. You’re barely coherent, all whines and gasps and moans, pleasure coiling white-hot in your core, and he just keeps talking, running that filthy, perfect mouth of his like it’s all he knows how to do.

“Gonna come for me, baby?” he grits out, hand snaking between the two of you and flicking at your clit in the way he knows will make you fall apart around him. “Look at me. Wanna watch you when it happens, yeah? Be a good girl f’me. Need to feel it.”

Your vision blurs and you shatter beneath him with a cry, clenching around him like a vise, and Lando groans loud and unfiltered. He keeps moving his hips, fucking you through it, chasing his own release until his rhythm falters and he spills inside you with a strangled “Fuckfuckfuck—” and a broken moan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, and for a moment all you can hear is the soft sound of your breath mingling together, the beat of his heart against yours. The house playlist is still thrumming from Lando’s phone, across the room.

“Fuck me,” your boyfriend groans, voice muffled with his face buried into your neck.

“Just did,” you breathe, grinning like a menace, and he lifts his head to giggle and press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You arrive to the red carpet twenty-five minutes after you’re supposed to be there — fashionably late, Lando reassures you with a smile.

If anyone notices the wrinkles in his brand-new shirt, they don’t say a word.

#f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #lando norris #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #lando norris x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #❀ my work .

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meatsaint · 6 months ago

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The Genius, Michael Gavey.

Michael Gavey x Reader.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

oneshot.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

#smut #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #aemond targaryen #aemond #house of the dragon #oneshot #saltburn #fanfic #x reader #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 23 days ago

Note

hey! Just found your blog and will be doing a deep dive! I saw your prompts and would love to make a request of my own? So I've been very much in cnc deep dive?? idk it just kinda knocked tf outta me and I haven’t gotten up yet so that's fun 🙂‍↔️

anyway... can I pretty please have a 113 "bite me harder — i like it" and a 214 cnc with Yunho? I feel like this would really do a number on me

thank you 😌😌

➯a/n: i just fell to my knees and startED BARKING OMGGG YES. bias wrecker + a personal favorite kink... you betcha i had fun with this one ➯a/n2: this is the request that originally smacked me in the face w the idea for "lowlife princess" so i had to think of something else kkkk sorry for the wait !

Stress Relief

❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader

113: "bite me harder — i like it"

✈︎queued for: tues 3rd

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: 214 cnc meaning reader: fights, bites, begs & yunho: forces, restrains, threatens, mocks. there IS one time yunho uses the word 'rape' and asks if she likes it, but the first c stands for consensual, this is just a couple roleplaying. idol yun / gf reader, mean dom yun, venting frustration through sex, hide and seek with high stakes, fingering, minimal prep, using a belt as restraint, yun REALLY likes being bit, unprotected + creampie, multiple male orgasms, churning butter (fucking after a creampie 🫠), pet names (doll, sweetie, love, angel), aftercare and domestic fluff a bit further down

➯cnc disclaimer: CONSENT IS SEXY. all parties are and always will be consenting in my stories. cnc is a way to explore power dynamics and it's attractive to many people, it does not "promote s/a", the first c is CONSENSUAL. you should only ever do it with someone who you trust. be safe and stay freaky !!

♡masterlist + tag form !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @everyonewooeverywhere @willowwyy @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

18+.MINORS GTFO.

ᥫ᭡

It always surprises you just how intense your boyfriend can be.

Even if you've played out this scene a million times over, your heart still thuds in your chest so roughly that you're afraid it will give away your hiding spot.

"Come out, come out~" Yunho sing-songs as he stalks through the dimly lit apartment. "C'mon, doll," he says loudly, "I'm not really mad at you. Come on out, we can talk about this like adults."

Of course he's not mad. You're both having the time of your lives with this game of cat and mouse. You always do.

The rapid beat of your heart is making your entire body hot — and the knowledge that he's going to fuck you when he finds you adds to the fire.

He gave you a five minute heads up before he got to your shared apartment, and then the game was on.

"It's just been a rough day is all," he hums as he opens up the hall closet, tutting his tongue as he faces nothing but towels and washcloths. "I could use some help de-stressing." The door to your bedroom is slightly ajar, and he kicks it open the remainder of the way lazily. "Is it so bad to want my girlfriend to help me?"

This is you helping him. Giving him the thrill, the adrenaline rush of finding you and then giving it all your might but always falling short when fighting him off. It makes him feel like he's got all the control in the world after a shitty day of being perfect for the world. He can be as nasty and mean as he wants with how he takes you, and you both love it.

"I won't even fuck you if you come out," he speaks into the silent air, "how about that? You come out now — I'll just use your throat. Is it a deal, sweetie?"

Your hand twitches at the door knob, thinking over which option you want more. You let your hand fall back to your side in the end. You're already wet with the promise of having your boyfriend inside of you.

"No?" He pouts as he looks under the bed. "You know our place is only so big, right? I'm going to find you eventually. And when I do —"

You turn the knob slowly.

"— I'm going to fuck you until you cry!"

You dash out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, making a bee line for the front door. You hear his footsteps behind you immediately.

You don't even make it out of the hallway before his arms wrap around you; pinning yours to your sides. "There you are, love~" He chuckles, pulling your back to his chest, "running away from me? Really? Has that ever worked for you before?"

"Stop it!" You yelp as he drags you towards the bedroom. "I don't want to!"

"You should've taken my offer then," he grunts as he crashes you both onto the bed, landing on top of you and catching his weight with one of his hands; the other pushing your face into the blankets. "You know I'm not a liar, sweetie. I'd have just choked you on my cock if you played nice and came out-" He shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it against your heat, "but no."

"Please-"

"I don't want to hear it. Not another damn peep unless it's, 'yes, Yunho.' Got it?" He growls, shoving your face deeper into the mattress as he presses his knee against you harder.

You feel your heartbeat in your cunt, almost drooling at his words before you gulp.

You shake your head as much as you can under his palm, letting out a whine. "I'm not ready to take y-"

"Don't worry, love." He pats your head before he lets go, sitting up on his knees. "I'm not a monster, I'll stretch you out first." You gasp as he yanks your shorts and underwear down in one rough tug — not even bothering to remove them all the way before his hand meets your wetness.

You kick your legs, trying to push away from him when he sits on the back of your thighs and stills you. "Stay put, doll. Wouldn't want to hurt you~" He grins as you yell into the sheets, grabbing at them to cope with the sudden intrusion of two of his long fingers inside of you.

"Ahh! Slow down!" You plead as you reach back and try to grab at him. He's thrusting and curling his fingers inside to you so roughly that you can feel his pent up energy in every move. And you can feel a ball of pleasure winding up in your gut much too quickly.

He only tuts his tongue, chuckling at your attempts to get away. He can tell you're really giving it your all to please him. Because it makes it all the better that you can't get anywhere.

Putting all of your strength into your hips, trying to buck away but only succeeding in driving his fingers deeper. Your moans mixing in with your grunts of effort make his hard length pulse with want.

"You really think I'm gonna go easy on you? I told you," he grips the back of your neck with his free hand, pushing another finger into you as you groan, "I had a rough fucking day. Be good and let me fuck all my stress into you. Can't you do that for me?"

All that you can do is whine at the intense stretch of his fingers inside of you. "Please, slow down-"

"Fine." He pulls his digits out quickly, covered in your arousal. "I'm getting impatient anyway."

While he leans back to remove his belt, you manage to slide out from under him and scramble up the bed; getting caught by your ankle. He all but yanks you back to the middle of the mattress, forcing his way between your fidgeting legs as he pushes you onto your back.

"C'mon, I won't be long, sweetie." He won't be. Usually he has a pretty high stamina but watching you squirm gets him unbelievably worked up. Letting him do almost anything he pleases makes him hot in the ears. "Just need to feel you- need to fuck you."

He gathers up your wrists, wrapping his belt around them and holding both ends in one hand while the other guides his length towards you.

"Yun, wait-" Your voice gets cut off by a gasp that forces its way up your throat as he pushes into you slowly — making you feel the stretch. He pulls your arms above your head by the belt before leaning over and kissing you.

Kissing is one things you'll never fight him on. You meet his lips with just as much passion every time.

His lips slide against yours softly until he bottoms out, pulling back to look down at you. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, go," you whisper, rewarded when he starts thrusting — slowly, at first.

But in no time at all, he's pounding all of his frustration into you, moaning and groaning non-stop as you tug against the leather on your wrists; breathing heavily and gushing around him.

"Fuck, angel..." He pants from above you, pressing his chest against you and resting his head next to yours. "This tight cunt of yours loves me," his moans are deep and rich with lust, "going to fill you up so good, and you can't stop me, can you~?"

You lick your lips, biting them for a moment as you look at his shoulder; barely covered by his tank top. Thinking about something he said he wanted to explore.

His hips stutter to a stop when you lean and nip at his skin. He lifts his head quickly, meeting your eyes; dazed. "Did you just bite me?"

"It made you stop, didn't it?" The small smirk is wiped off your face as he starts fucking into you harder. Prodding at every spot inside of you that makes you see stars; makes your back arch as far as it can while crushed under his weight.

"F-uck," he moans brokenly, "nothin' is going to make me stop." He yanks the strap down his shoulder and pulls your head to him. "Bite me harder — I like it."

You glare at him for a moment, but he can see the sparkle in your eyes before you sink your teeth in roughly.

He cums. Loud moans, jaw dropped, eyes closed, messy thrusts forming a milky ring around his base as he keeps furiously rutting into you — like he'll die if he stops.

His downright needy sounds, paired with his warm release making him slide in-and-out so easily pushes you off the edge as well; trembling below him and adding to the mess between your thighs.

He doesn't stop. "Yunho!" You wail shakily, twisting and turning and getting nowhere.

"I'm st- I'm still hard, love... M'gonna cum again," his voice is just as shaky as yours, his breath is hot and short as he looks down at you, "feeling you cum around me... I'll never get over it."

You've ran out of fight after your orgasm, but that doesn't stop him from pulling your bound arms down as he sits up; using them as leverage to pull you into his never-ending thrusts as his other hand finds your cunt, looking down at the messy scene as he swipes his thumb against your clit. And again. Then he starts drawing circles on it as your hips jerk.

"Yunho!!"

"What~?" He laughs breathlessly, eyes flicking between you and your twitching heat. "You going to cum again so soon? You like it that much, doll? You like it when I rape your messy little pussy?"

Evidently, yes. Because his near babbling moans paired with his harsh thrusts and his rough thumb on your clit send your eyes back into your head, cum-slicked walls clenching down on him so tightly that he has no choice but to unload another overflowing release into you.

Cursing under his breath, he leans over you; heavy cock still buried deep in your twitching walls. Both of his hands find your face, cradling it tenderly as he kisses you lewdly. It's all tongues and spit, moans and blissful hums traded from your mouth to his and from his to yours.

You work your wrists out of his belt and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging onto him loosely.

Neither of you want to pull away but unfortunately you can't live on each other's lips, you need air — and Yunho curses that fact as he leans back.

"Do you feel better, Yun?"

He smiles serenely, rubbing your heated cheeks as he holds your face softly. "Yes," he pecks your lips one more time, "you're the perfect stress relief."

ᥫ᭡

You're laid on your side next to him, admiring his peaceful features as he massages your tender wrists with lotion.

All of the tension in his shoulders is gone, his entire body and face completely relaxed as he listens to your breathing.

"Hey," you speak up softly, "what do you think about watching that new Kissing Booth movie?"

"They made another one? Ugh..."

"Ugh? Why ugh?" You nudge his leg with yours, "you like those movies."

"No, I like making fun of them with you." He chuckles, hands sliding down to rub your arms.

"Me too~ That's why I asked, dummy," you lean and kiss him softly, "please? Let's try to predict what stupid plot twist will happen next."

"Hm... I'll get some chips."

ᥫ᭡

#stars ask and receive #request #ateez #ateez smut #smut fic #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic

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thetidesthatturn · 21 days ago

Text

Sunday Ritual

I’ve been thinking about aphrodisiateez for a while now, and I just can’t get it out of my head. There needs to be infinite amounts of these fics!!!

Pairing: Hongjoong x freader, Wooyoung x freader

Warnings: smut, substance use (kinda?), roommate au, non-idol au, overstimulation (if you squint), use of y/n, unprotected sex - list is not exhaustive, read at own risk

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

It was just a normal Sunday—at least, that’s what you thought.

It started like always: too lazy to cook, you ordered take-out and settled on the couch for a movie. It had become a ritual, the perfect way to cap off the weekend.

After graduation, you’d moved in with your two best friends from college. It felt natural, like puzzle pieces clicking together as you all stepped into the “real world.” Hongjoong, a budding music producer, had landed an internship at a local record label—a dream come true for him. You couldn’t have been prouder, even if it meant late nights and constant burnout. Still, you made sure to drag him out of his creative cave for your Sunday movie nights—no exceptions.

Meanwhile, you and Wooyoung had somehow ended up co-managing the little café where you’d worked through college. Neither of you had any plans to leave, despite your degrees pointing you elsewhere. It was comfortable, and you weren’t ready to let go of that comfort just yet.

“Joong, get your ass down here!” you called from the couch. Wooyoung immediately cracked up beside you.

“You know he probably hates us, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll let you know when I care.”

A moment later, Hongjoong stomped down the stairs, muttering under his breath. He paused on the last step, glaring at you both.

“I was busy.”

“You know you have commitments on a Sunday,” you teased.

“This isn’t as important, Y/N. You know that,” he grumbled.

Wooyoung fell back dramatically onto the couch, clutching his chest. “Joong… I can’t believe you’d say that!”

Hongjoong crossed the room, grabbed a cushion, and lobbed it at Wooyoung’s head.

“I’m getting snacks,” he announced, stalking off to the kitchen.

You chuckled and headed to the bathroom. Nothing worse than pausing the movie mid-flow.

When you returned, the coffee table was littered with snacks, and the two of them were already bickering over what to watch.

“You always want to watch that, Joong. Can we pick something else for once?”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “I was forced to be here. We’re watching what I want.”

“But—”

“But nothing!”

You sighed and stepped between them. “Okay, what do you both want to watch? I’ll decide.”

“Harry Potter!” Wooyoung pleaded.

You laughed. “Woo, we always watch that too.”

“He wants Pirates of the damn Caribbean again!” he whined.

“If I recall, we just recently re-watched the entire Harry Potter saga because you wanted to. My vote goes to Joong,” you declared.

“WHAT?!” Wooyoung screeched, but Hongjoong was already smacking him with the cushion. He shot you a grateful smile.

You grabbed the remote, queued up the movie, and settled between them under a blanket. Ten minutes in, you glanced at Wooyoung. Despite his earlier protest, he was fully engrossed, shovelling snacks into his mouth like a machine. Without looking, he passed a pouch of gummies behind your back to Hongjoong, who grabbed a handful before passing them to you. You took a few, popped them in your mouth, and immediately grimaced.

“Eugh, what even are these?”

Hongjoong shrugged. “Found them at the back of the cupboard.”

Dismissing it, you returned your attention to the movie. But after about fifteen minutes, a heat started to spread through your body.

“Is it just me, or is it hot as hell in here?” Wooyoung panted, pulling the blanket off his legs.

“I was just thinking that,” Hongjoong muttered, tugging at his shirt collar.

You got up to check the thermostat—nothing. When you came back, both of them were squirming in their seats.

Wooyoung’s eyes darted between you and Hongjoong. “Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah… I don’t feel right,” Hongjoong added, his voice strained.

“Oh god, I hope it’s not food poisoning from that take-out,” you muttered, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“I don’t feel sick… I feel…” Wooyoung’s face flushed, his hands coming to rest tentatively over his crotch.

Your eyes widened. Hongjoong was in the same position. Panic gnawed at your mind. What could’ve done this? Your gaze dropped to the table—those gummies. The only thing all three of you had eaten.

No.

No way.

Memories from your Amsterdam trip crashed down on you. The joke aphrodisiac gummies you’d bought at that sex shop as a dare. You’d stashed them at the back of the cupboard, assuming you’d never actually use them.

“Shit.” You swore under your breath.

“What?!” they both demanded.

Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You snatched up the pouch and squinted at the label.

“These are fucking aphrodisiacs!” you shouted, brandishing the package. “Joong, did you not even check the label?!”

His eyes went wide, panic etched into every line of his face. “I—I didn’t think I’d need to!”

Wooyoung doubled over, howling with laughter. “Wait, wait—how many did we all eat?”

“I had three,” you mumbled.

Hongjoong’s hands flew to his head. “I had like fucking ten!”

Wooyoung’s tears streamed down his face as he gasped, “I had at least fifteen!”

“This isn’t funny!” Hongjoong snapped, smacking Wooyoung’s thigh.

Wooyoung straightened instantly, his ears burning bright red. “Oh…” He gasped. “They work, alright.”

“What do you mean they work?!”

“I’m so fucking horny.” His eyes find you, now beginning to glaze over.

“Oh no, no no no. We aren’t doing this.” Hongjoong stands to leave the room, but as he does the blanket falls to the floor, revealing how strained his pants now were.

Wooyoung falls on his side, bleating and gasping as his laughter consumes him. “He’s… ha HA HA! He’s HARD!”

Hongjoong’s face washes crimson as his hands fly down to his crotch, trying to conceal his erection. Wooyoung continues to giggle, which turns Hongjoong’s embarrassment to fury. He snatches the blanket from Wooyoung, throwing it across the room.

“You’re in exactly the same position!” Hongjoong hisses.

Meanwhile, you’re stood watching all of this unfold, painfully aware of your own predicament. You absentmindedly shift from foot to foot, trying to relieve some of the pressure building within you. That is, until Wooyoung catches you. His laughter is gone now—replaced with a look you’ve never seen on his face.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

The way he’s looking at you, lips parted, eyes darkening. Like he wants to eat you alive. It’s too much.

Before you can stop it, a whimper leaves your own parted lips.

Hongjoong’s head snaps to you, beads of sweat forming at his hairline.

“Fuck.” Wooyoung gulps, now palming himself over his pants.

“Woo…” You shake your head.

This cannot be happening, they’re your best friends. Sure, anyone with eyes could see just how attractive they both were, but this was a line you couldn’t cross. Not with them.

You turn to leave, but Wooyoung whines.

“No. Please. Don’t go. Please.” He’s on his feet now, his legs carrying him across to you in two quick strides. He grasps onto your arms, sweat pouring down his face, hands shaking. His pupils dilate as he looks at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. His breathing is shallow as his fingers grip into your flesh.

“Wooyoung.” You swallow, trying to shake out of his grasp, but he just claws tighter.

“Those pretty noises,” He breathes, now unconsciously beginning to rut against your thigh. “Please, please. Please, Y/N.”

“Please what?” You gasp as his lips attach to your neck, planting sloppy kisses along your jugular.

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong shouts from the spot he’s frozen in by the couch. “She wants you to stop. So stop.”

Wooyoung peers up at you from your neck. “Is that what you want, Jagiya? For me to stop?” His fingers are drawing lazy circles into the exposed skin of your waist now. You bite your lip, hesitating. He smirks, then turns his head to Hongjoong.

“Come on Joong, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this before.”

You could swear Hongjoong turned into an actual tomato on the spot, the wash of scarlet travelling up his neck and across his face and ears.

“I have not!”

“Liar.” Wooyoung chides, then in one swift motion he twirls you around and presses your back to his chest, his hands winding up your torso. You squirm, breathing heavily, the room around you beginning to spin.

“Look at her, she wants this.”

Hongjoong is practically drooling now, watching you as your chest furiously rises and falls, how your eyes flutter when Wooyoung’s fingers graze your skin. Slowly, he walks over to the two of you, stopping just before you.

“Is this what you want?” He murmurs, his arms hovering hesitantly at his sides.

Wooyoung’s fingers reach the curve of your breast, and as they brush against it you arch into him, letting out the smallest of moans.

“Jagiya, Joongie asked if you want this. Be a good girl and answer him.” Wooyoung breathes against your neck.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chant, launching yourself forward onto Hongjoong.

Your hands grapple into his hair as you pull him flush to you, your mouth melting to his. Immediately his hands are on you, everywhere all at once.

Hongjoong’s lips crash into yours, his breath warm and hungry as his hands roam over every inch of your body. A tremor of desire pools deep in your abdomen, intensified by the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins.

“God, you’re so responsive,” Hongjoong pants against your mouth, his eyes blown wide and dark. He pulls back just enough to stare at you, his lips parted, chest heaving. “So beautiful.”

Wooyoung is behind you now, his mouth at your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Can’t believe how much I want you right now.” His voice is rough, desperate, and it sends another jolt of heat spiralling through your core.

You whimper, your legs weak beneath you, and Hongjoong catches you before you can stumble. His strong arms hold you steady as Wooyoung’s hands slide lower, dipping under the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he groans, his fingers finding you with no resistance.

Your head tilts back, a low moan escaping your throat as your hips buck into his hand. Hongjoong watches you like he’s starved, his own need painfully obvious as he presses his thigh between your legs.

“Look at you, taking everything we give you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek with unexpected tenderness even as his other hand skims up your side, under your tank, to cup your breast.

Wooyoung’s fingers work you in slow, torturous circles, the aphrodisiac heightening every sensation until your mind is a haze of need and pleasure.

“Please,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “Don’t stop—please.”

Hongjoong’s mouth captures yours again, this time slower, deeper, as if he wants to savour every single shiver he pulls from your body. Wooyoung chuckles darkly against your ear, his breath hot.

“Don’t worry, Jagiya,” he purrs. “We’re just getting started.”

Wooyoung picks up the pace, and the sounds tumbling from your lips are beyond obscene.

“Fuck, I might cum in my pants.” Wooyoung grunts, his eyes rolling back as he grinds against your ass.

“Upstairs,” Hongjoong pants, “My room.”

The three of you bolt up the stairs, rushing into Hongjoong’s bedroom. Wooyoung’s eyes are frantic as he pushes you back onto the bed, ripping down your sweats and panties. “I wanna eat you out, please. Please.”

You nod, unable to form words. As soon as you do, he parts your legs and dives in. You cry out as his tongue flicks across your clit, fingers digging into his scalp. Hongjoong, now just in his underwear, lifts up your head and settles in behind you. His hands grasp at your tank, lifting it up to expose your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples and you gasp, squeezing your thighs around Wooyoung’s head.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m gunna cum.”

Wooyoung laps at you furiously, pushing two fingers inside of you. You pulse around him, body spasming. One hand in Wooyoung’s hair, the other clawing into Hongjoong’s arm, you come undone. Wooyoung detaches himself, falling forwards, hands balling up into the sheets. He lets out a strangled groan.

“I just came in my fucking pants.” He mumbles.

Hongjoong is practically whimpering behind you, hands frantically kneading into your flesh. “Y/N, fuck. Fuck. Please, can I fuck you. Oh god. Please.”

Never in your life have you witnessed the Kim Hongjoong beg before. This was priceless.

“Fuck her. Fuck her now.” Wooyoung is standing now, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding his pants.

Hongjoong scrambles from behind you, whipping off his underwear and settling between your legs. “Can I?”

He’s looking at you with those big boba eyes, pleading.

“Give it to me.” You breathe.

Before you know it, he’s sliding into you. You both groan as he bottoms out, stretching your walls so deliciously. He picks up the pace, slamming into you mercilessly as you writhe beneath him.

Wooyoung is now next to you on the bed, dick in hand. His pupils are blown as he watches his two best friends fuck.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong pants, “Do you think Woo deserves a piece of you too?”

“Fuck, please. Suck my dick, oh my god I could just cum again thinking about it.”

Hongjoong pulls out of you, and you start to complain, but he cuts you off.

“On your hands and knees.” He instructs.

You oblige immediately, and Hongjoong re-enters you. From this new angle, you’re seeing stars from the moment he pushes in. Wooyoung shuffles over to you, shaking with anticipation.

“Where do you want me?”

“Lay… down. Ah!” You can barely force the words to leave your lips as Hongjoong drives into you from behind.

Wooyoung does as instructed and you lower yourself down onto your elbows, taking his pillowy head into your mouth. His hips buck up, but you keep taking him in, flattening your tongue and sucking around him. He’s babbling uncontrollably, a symphony of curses and moans and ‘please please please’. Behind you, Hongjoong is mirroring him, as his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated.

“I’m—oh god. I’m gunna cum.” Hongjoong hisses as you clench around him.

“Fuck, me too.” Wooyoung pants.

With one last squeeze, and a flick of your tongue, they are both coming undone. Hongjoong pulls out, spilling over your lower back with a groan. Wooyoung twitches as ropes of hot cum coat the back of your throat, but you keep going.

“Y/N! Y/N stop! Ah!” He’s thrashing underneath you, overstimulation rocking him to his core. You pull off with a pop, peering up through your lashes at his beautiful, fucked-out face.

Hongjoong collapses beside you, chest heaving.

“Well�� that just happened.” Wooyoung smirks, his eyes closing.

“And it’ll never fucking happen again. We don’t speak of this.” You cover your hands with your face, muffling a chuckle.

Hongjoong huffs a short laugh, still unable to process the events of the evening. Wooyoung looks at him, and winks.

“That’s what you think, Jagiya.”

#ateez #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x you #wooyoung x you #wooyoung fic #hongjoong fic #aphrodisiac

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paucubarsisimp · 4 months ago

Text

sick days

pairing: poly!max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader

summary: in which you’re sick but your boyfriend and girlfriend are there to take care of you

warnings: none

the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows was the only sound that filled the quiet apartment. the air inside was warm and cozy, but you, curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets, still felt like you were shivering with the chills from the fever that had you bedridden for the past day. you could barely keep your eyes open as your head throbbed with every slight movement. your throat felt raw, and your body ached like you’d run a marathon, but all you wanted was to sleep it off.

kelly was a picture of calm and care as she moved around the living room. she had set up a little “sick station” beside you—a tray of hot tea, tissues, cough drops, and a few movies queued up on the tv just in case you felt up to watching. her presence was grounding, and it made you feel safe, like nothing else in the world mattered other than you getting better.

max, on the other hand, was never far from you. usually so full of energy, it was almost disorienting to see him so soft, so tender. he sat beside you on the couch, his hand gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. he didn’t even seem to mind that you had been in bed all day, only caring about how he could make you feel comfortable.

“how are you feeling?” he asked quietly, his voice low and soothing. his thumb lightly traced circles on the back of your hand, offering comfort without a single word needing to be said.

“better now,” you murmured, though you weren’t entirely sure you were telling the truth. honestly, you just wanted to sleep through the sickness, but there was a warmth in their presence, a kind of quiet care that made everything feel a little easier.

kelly came over with a bowl of soup and sat down beside you, the steam rising in soft curls from the bowl. “here, sweetheart. it’ll help you feel better,” she said, her voice so gentle it almost made your heart ache. you took a spoonful, savoring the warmth and saltiness as it soothed your sore throat. “you just rest,” she added, brushing her hand through your hair. “we’re here for you.”

it was then that penelope, kelly’s little girl, toddled in with a stuffed bear clutched to her chest. she was wearing her favorite pajamas—pink with little unicorns—and her curls were a bit wild, probably from a nap. she immediately climbed up onto the couch and snuggled up beside you, her tiny arms wrapping around your waist in a warm hug.

“mama says i’m supposed to help take care of you,” she said seriously, looking up at you with her big brown eyes. “i’ll give you my bear if you need him.” the stuffed animal in her hands was comically large, almost as big as she was, but you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

max chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “she’s a good nurse, isn’t she?”

“best one i’ve ever had,” you replied with a grin, reaching out to ruffle penelope’s hair.

kelly laughed, too, settling in beside you and watching as you two interacted. “she’s been asking every five minutes if you’re feeling any better,” she said, her tone light and affectionate. “i think she’s been more concerned than we’ve been.”

you could feel the warmth of her hand on your arm as she leaned over, adjusting the blankets around you and ensuring you were comfortable. “just rest,” she repeated softly, her voice full of affection. “we’ve got you.”

max reached over, brushing a few strands of hair off your face, his touch lingering. “you know, it’s okay to let us take care of you,” he said quietly. “you don’t have to do anything but get better.”

you leaned into him, grateful for the care they were giving you. “i don’t know what i’d do without you two.”

penelope, hearing your words, leaned up with a serious expression. “we’ll always take care of you,” she said, sounding every bit like her mama. “because you’re family.”

the weight of her words settled over you, and you smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. kelly and max exchanged a look, both of them smiling softly as they watched you and their daughter. everything felt so right in that moment, like nothing in the world could tear you apart. with them by your side, there was no sickness, no pain, no fear. just love.

you drifted in and out of sleep as they all tended to you, their voices soft and constant, a steady reminder that you were cherished. max made sure you stayed hydrated, bringing you water and more tea when you needed it. kelly kept adjusting the blankets, making sure you were warm enough. and penelope? well, she never stopped cuddling up next to you, her small hands bringing you things she thought might help—a toy, a new stuffed animal, even just a kiss on your cheek whenever she saw you look tired.

you could feel your energy slowly returning, not because of medicine or anything that might help physically, but because of them—because of the love they gave you, the care that wrapped around you like a comforting cocoon.

when you finally stirred again, it was because of the light pressure of a kiss to your forehead. max was leaning over you, his face full of tenderness. “feeling a little better?” he asked, his voice still gentle.

you smiled up at him, your heart full. “yeah, a little. i think i’m gonna make it through.”

kelly, sitting by your side, gave you a soft smile, brushing her thumb across your hand. “we’ll make sure of it.”

penelope snuggled into your side, yawning. “when you’re all better, we can play. you’re my best friend.”

you chuckled softly, feeling lighter than you had in days. “i look forward to it, my love.”

in that moment, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be—wrapped in love, surrounded by care, and with a little family who would always take care of you, no matter what.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader #kelly piquet x reader #kelly piquet

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wethotcrazy · 6 months ago

Text

LET'S PLAY A FEW

pairing: Zhou Guanyu x Streamer! Reader

word count:

i have been cooking this up in my brain for so long now, like it has been weeks that i've been meaning to writea guanyu fanfic and now here it is yippie also i wrote this because guanyu is very dear to me and i am just gutted that he wont be racing next year

The stream was alive with the low hum of background music and the click-clack of Y/N’s keyboard. Her Tuesday night streams were a familiar routine for her viewers—three hours of CSGO, now smoothly transitioning into Valorant. She’d solo queued, half-focused on the game, half-focused on her chat. It was a relaxed vibe tonight, her soft voice filling the gaps as she responded to questions.

“Y/N, who’s your favorite agent?” one viewer asked.

“Hmm, depends on the day,” Y/N mused, squinting at the game. “But I’m leaning toward Jett lately. Fast, flashy… plus, I’m a sucker for knives.” Her words were accompanied by the sharp sound of her clicking through weapons.

Her team switched to defense. She’d been holding B site alone and wasn’t too concerned. “It’s always quiet until it’s not,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the entry points.

And then it wasn’t quiet.

The enemy team pushed hard—four, no, five enemies storming the site. Y/N’s demeanor shifted instantly. She stopped talking mid-sentence, leaning forward, her entire focus honed in. Chat knew what was happening. They’d seen this mode before.

One.

Two.

Three clean headshots in rapid succession. Her chat erupted.

“SHE’S COOKING,” someone spammed.

“Demon time activated,” wrote another.

Four down, one left. Y/N’s crosshair tracked, and with one swift flick—the fifth player dropped.

“ACE!” Chat’s excitement exploded, emotes and all-caps filling the screen.

“Nice ace,” a voice said, calm and steady. Y/N’s body went rigid as a soft kiss landed on the crown of her head. Her breath caught in her chest.

Slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she turned her head to see Zhou Guanyu standing there, his face calm as ever, hands in his sweatpants pockets. His eyes met hers with an easy grin, one he’d worn countless times but somehow always made her heart stutter.

“Are you solo queuing right now? Want me to hop on?” he asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find the words. The situation wasn’t particularly funny, but a wave of giddy laughter poured out of her—that helpless, uncontrollable kind.

“I’m… I’m streaming right now, Bǎobǎo,” she said through breaths of laughter, wiping at her eyes.

Guanyu’s eyes flickered toward her monitor, realizing what had just happened. His gaze shifted to the camera. “Oh. Hi, chat,” he said with a casual wave like it was any other Tuesday night.

Pandemonium.

Chat’s messages scrolled too fast for Y/N to read. Everyone was freaking out. The calm, private nature of their relationship had only left the fans guessing. Speculation had been rampant, but this? This was confirmation.

“NO WAY THAT’S GUANYU.”

“WTF OKAY BOYFRIEND REVEAL.”

“Bǎobǎo?????????”

Y/N’s face was red as she tried to focus on the chat. “Alright, alright, calm down,” she said, fanning herself dramatically. She glanced up at Guanyu, still grinning like a fool. “You’re unbelievable.”

Guanyu’s only response was to tilt his head, his grin never wavering. “You’re the one who’s blushing,” he teased before walking off toward the kitchen.

Three years earlier, Guanyu had been just another viewer in Y/N’s chat—a regular with a verified checkmark that made him stand out. People recognized his name, but Y/N didn’t at first.

“Zhou Guanyu…” she read aloud, squinting at the name in her chat. “That’s… a Formula 1 driver, right? Chat, you’re messing with me.”

“No, it’s actually him!” chat exploded.

Sure enough, he’d donated with a message: “Big fan of your streams. If you’re ever down for games, I’m in.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “No way that’s real,” she muttered, half-laughing. But over the next few weeks, his presence became a regular occurrence. Guanyu’s name appeared in her chat, his playful comments lighting up the screen.

Then one day, he sent a Discord invite.

“Let’s play a few,” his message read.

He wasn’t what she expected. His sense of humor was sharp but subtle. He wasn’t loud, but he was confident. Their first few games were filled with banter and easy laughter. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just "streamer and viewer" and became… more.

Soon, he’d hop into her streams without warning. His voice was instantly recognizable. Their interactions sparked thousands of clips on Twitch. Fans flooded her social media with theories. “Are they together?” became the constant question. They never confirmed or denied it, and after a while, the frenzy died down.

But when Guanyu’s race schedule allowed, he’d appear on her stream. Sometimes he’d just be a voice in the background, sometimes he’d play with her on-stream, and sometimes, like today, he’d forget she was streaming entirely.

Back in the present, Y/N’s chat was still in shambles. Guanyu’s sudden appearance had sent them into a spiral, and Y/N’s notifications were pinging nonstop. She’d read a few messages aloud, fighting the urge to laugh all over again.

“‘Tell him to come back’… No, he’s probably playing with Sweet Corn right now,” she joked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Does he call you Bǎobǎo?’” she read, the grin on her face growing wider. “Yeah, yeah, he does that sometimes. It’s…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning again. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, Guanyu wandered back in with a bowl of fruit in hand, offering her a piece of mango. She took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, still half-laughing.

“Mmm,” Guanyu hummed in response, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” she said softly, her voice quieter this time, almost just for him.

Chat caught every word.

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trashytracktales · 7 months ago

Note

omg omg your work is so good oml. quick request: anything for logan sargeant because i CRAVE that man in my bones frfr

Late for Logan | LS²

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Sorry in advance, but it's your fault for giving me that type of freedom 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── After being dropped mid-season, Logan returns home overwhelmed with frustration and self-doubt. Luckily, he has her, and they manage to find solace in each other, reminding him that it’s never too late to rebuild.

𐙚 pairing ──── Logan Sargeant x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, emotional distress, mentions of career challenges, vulnerability & emotional support, fluff & smut, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 5, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── If you miss Logan say I ☝🏻😔

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE AIR IS tinged with the faint aroma of Logan’s favorite cheat meal sitting under its foil wrapper. She’s set everything up exactly as he’d like it: snacks in a tidy line on the table, his favorite series queued on the TV, and a stack of games ready in case he wants to lose himself in a familiar world, just to escape the real one.

She tried her best to bring him some comfort, though it also helped her keep her mind occupied. After Logan dropped the bomb on her, her blood has been boiling ever since. She knows there is no point in being angry, because as he said, what's done is done. But that won't stop her from cursing the name of that entire garage of snakes.

The clock creeps toward 2 a.m. She's tired, but she doesn’t let herself drift. Not tonight.

Tonight is for Logan.

She perches on the edge of the couch, fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for the sound of his key in the lock, while aimlessly scrolling through her feed.

When the door finally clicks open and Logan steps inside, his movements are heavy, yet cautious.

His bag slung low on one shoulder, all the lights are low, and he doesn’t seem to notice the setup she’s spent hours on. He doesn’t call out, either. Doesn’t move toward the living room. He simply heads toward the kitchen, thinking she's been asleep for hours now.

Her stomach twists when she hears the noisy thud of his bag hitting the floor. She expects him to walk back, to see the small effort she’s made to make him feel loved, seen, and appreciated, but the silence is louder than ever. Then, there’s the crash of something — a plate or maybe a glass — and a muffled curse.

Quietly, she stands up from the couch, stepping toward the doorway.

She finds Logan on the kitchen floor, his knees pulled to his chest, and his head in his hands. His frame trembles, wracked with uneven breaths that she realizes, with a sinking feeling, are sobs.

His frustration spills into his voice, sharp and broken, as he tries to keep quiet. “A failure… such a fucking failure.”

Tears burn behind her eyes as she watches him fall apart. She hadn’t imagined it would be this bad — she knew his season so far sacked, but it wasn't always his fault, and he seemed okay for the most part. Although, Logan had always been good at pretending he was fine. Tonight, though, there’s no mask. Just raw pain and anger and exhaustion and frustration.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, yet slightly shaking.

His head snaps up, his red-rimmed eyes locking with hers. “Shit. Did I wake you, baby?” his voice cracks, the words rushed, as though he’s trying to cover the vulnerability she’s already seen.

She steps closer the moment she sees him trying to get up, her bare feet cool against the tiles. “No, I wasn't… I wanted to surprise you,” her voice falters, and she kneels beside him, reaching for his hand. “I'm so sorry, Lo. I didn’t know you were hurting this much.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I’m supposed to—” his words choke off, hitting his head with the bridge of his palm, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

“Oh, pretty,” she grips his hand tightly, pulling it away from his self-inflicted punishment. “It's going to be okay. You're home now.”

“I’ve worked so hard for this,” he whispers, ignoring her pitiful look. “And now it all went to shit, because I couldn't get it together. Everything… gone.”

Her heart breaks for him. At the same time, she's offended by his statement. After all, she's still here; there's still something. But it's not about her, so she pulls him into her arms, without thinking about the technicalities of his affirmation. His body folds into hers like a little child, his head pressing into the crook of her neck.

He tries not to cry, but it's been months since he's been suppressing those tears, thinking he wasn't allowed to lash out, because that's not what strong people do.

It doesn't matter.

She's still here, and she is holding him together when he feels like he’s falling apart.

“It’s not gone,” she whispers, her hand stroking through his hair. “Baby, it was a shitty team, anyway. You’ve still got so much ahead of you.”

“Not in F1, I don't,” he reminds her bitterly.

She pulls back enough to look into his eyes, her thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek. “So what? At least you can say you've been there. You did great things. Things that other people can only dream of. And no matter what happens, you'll always have that. Isn't that amazing?”

His lip quivers, looking at her as if he sees her for the first time. Again. As if he's falling in love. Again.

“You deserve someone who’s not falling apart at the moment.”

The girl frowns. “Shut up. I choose you, Logan. All of you. Every single day,” she says with so much conviction in her voice that he almost believes her.

He exhales shakily, his shoulders slumping. “I might need you more than you need me.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” she asks, raising her eyebrows in confusion. “If anything, we'll have more time. More time to figure things out. More time to put everything in order. More time for us.”

Logan nods, realizing she's not entirely wrong. Though it sucks, maybe all the bad happened now to make more room for the good that is about to come.

They stay like that for a long time, tangled on the cold kitchen floor, until his breathing steadies and the tension in his body ebbs. He feels sorry she had to see him like that, but at least all the shame subsided. For now.

Next, she pulls him to his feet, their hands still entwined, and finally leads Logan into the living room.

His eyes widen when he sees the setup. “Baby, this looks amazing. You shouldn't have…”

“I wanted to,” she admits softly.

He pulls her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop with that already,” she whispers. “Or else, I'll eat all your food in front of you.”

THE CLOCK ON the bedside table reads 3:34 a.m. when they finally settle in bed, under the blanket. The TV hums softly in the background, playing Logan's favorite series, though neither of them is paying much attention.

He's still deep in thought, and she's still worried of how is all this going to actually affect him in the long run.

Logan is lying across her, his head resting on her stomach, one arm draped over her thighs. His body feels heavier than usual, burdened by the weight of the day. Her fingers move lazily through his hair, a repetitive, soothing motion that almost puts him to sleep.

No one says anything; they don't need to. She knows Logan. Knows the storm raging inside his mind despite the quiet exterior. And he knows her — patient, calm, and supportive.

Everything he's not, at the moment.

Suddenly, he tightens his grip on her thigh, his knuckles brushing the soft skin. The motion is unconscious, but the pressure betrays the frustration that's still boiling inside him. She inhales sharply under the force of his hand, the pressure taking her by surprise, a little sound slipping from her lips before she can stop it. It’s enough to make his head lift slightly, enough to draw his attention.

Logan freezes for a moment, but then something in him snaps. His heart starts racing, his blood travels faster throughout his body, and his mouth goes dry. He shifts, sliding his head beneath her oversized shirt — his shirt, that she chose to sleep in for the night. His lips find the soft plane of her stomach, planting warm, deliberate kisses against her skin.

“Logan,” she whispers his name, half a question and half a plea.

He doesn’t respond, not with words. Instead, his hands trail upward, gripping her waist firmly, his thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of her breasts. When his mouth moves higher, kissing just beneath her ribs, his hand slides under the shirt, fully cupping her flesh. The touch is possessive, almost reverent.

“My everything,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice raw. It gives her goosebumps, but she doesn't have time to process his words too in depth, because feeling him like that occupies her entire brain capacity. “The perfect design. Smooth, precise, so responsive, baby. I should’ve been able to handle you better.”

Her breath catches in her throat. She understands pretty quick that he’s not just talking about her body, and knows he’s still thinking about everything he feels he’s failed at. “Logan, stop—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice an octave deeper. “No one gets it, but you. If I’d just had the right tools, the right… Fuck. If I’d been allowed to drive you the way I wanted to, I could’ve done it. I could’ve taken you further than anyone else ever could.”

On one hand, it's hard for her to hear him talking like that — as if he's gone mad. But Logan is right about one thing: she understands. She does, because she's been a first row witness since day one. So, even if it hurts, she lets his words sink in, lets him vent the pent-up frustration in his own way. It's the least she can do.

His hands tug her shirt over her head, leaving her bare before him. His gaze darkens as he looks at her, his lips parting slightly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Logan whispers, acting like it's the first time he sees her naked. His hands run over her sides, mapping her curves as if committing them to memory. “The perfect design,” he repeats, “And I’m the only one who gets to race you. Is that right, baby?”

She feels the weight of his words in her chest, the underlying desperation beneath his need for control. She nods, because there's truth behind them — they belong to each other, a silent pact they made right at the beginning of their relationship. Besides, he needs it — not just her body, but her trust, her willingness to let him take the lead. It’s his way of clawing back the confidence that’s been stripped from him so prematurely.

“I’m here,” she whispers, her voice steady. “I love you. I’m proud of you. I'm with you.”

She would stop talking, but Logan moves with a hunger she’s never seen before, his lips tracing a path down her body; it makes her head spin with things she should've told him sooner. His hands grip her thighs, spreading them wide as if he’s opening the doors to a new track, one only he has the right to drive on.

“You feel like silk,” he mutters, mostly to himself, gently tracing his palms over her skin. “So warm, so smooth… God, the handling is unreal.”

She arches into his touch, her fingers finding his hair again as his mouth moves lower, claiming her inch by inch. He’s precise, knowing exactly where to push, where to pull back, where to accelerate — he's so good at it. Why did they think he wasn't?

“It’s like you’re built for me, my love.”

She’s lost in him, in the way he talks, and the way he makes her feel like the most coveted machine in the world.

Logan’s frame hovers over hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he captures her lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s raw and unrestrained, his need pouring into every brush of his mouth against hers. She doesn’t fight it, doesn’t hold anything back. She lets him take her in every way he wants, surrendering completely because she knows he needs this.

His hands are firm on her, no longer tentative as they roam over her body. Her breath hitches when his fingers curl into her hips, holding her so tightly she knows she’ll find faint bruises by the time they're done. But she doesn’t mind — she loves the unfiltered and unapologetic Logan, the fire in his touch telling her everything he hasn’t said.

“I'm glad you finally see it,” she whispers against his lips, her voice soft but encouraging. “Who you truly are.”

Logan pulls back just enough to look at her, his chest heaving, his blue eyes darkened with intensity. “Yeah? Who am I, then?”

Her fingers trace along his jaw, tender even as her words cut straight to the heart of him. “My strong, beautiful boy,” she says without hesitation, “You’re everything I’ve always seen in you.”

It's her honesty that gets to him, making him tightening his grip on her thighs and pulling her legs around his waist as if to anchor himself. He peels off her panties, discarding them on the floor, and she wastes no time helping him get rid of his sweatpants. His skin burns as their bare chests touch again, making her moan softly at the contact with his hard muscles.

She feels his hand traveling down between their bodies, so she breaks the kiss to look at him. Logan hesitates, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second as he shifts his weight.

“What's wrong, baby?” he asks, confusion evident in his voice.

In response, she reaches out to grab his cock, pumping it deftly before guiding it to her entrance. She lets out a short whine at the initial contact, feeling him hard and leaking at the tip, as she helps him sink in slowly, savoring every inch.

“No foreplay tonight. Please,” she whimpers the words out, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

“Are you su—fuck,” he breathes against her shoulder, his body suddenly on fire.

“Promise,” she moans, feeling him stretching her pussy wide in ways she didn't experience before.

Logan grunts, pushing deep inside her, full and heavy, exhaling in gasps the moment he's all in. He feels her so tight around him that he can't help but thrust a couple of times, pulling only halfway out, just to spread her wetness all over his length. The thickness of his cock takes her breath away while it keeps her open for him, and she makes a mental note to let him take her like this more often from now on, even though she expects to be sore in the morning.

“You're so good to me, baby,” he chokes out. “So tight, I just…” his words die in his throat when she raises her hips to meet his.

Logan needs tremendous self-control, but that doesn't translate into how his slow, hard thrust make her body slide against the sheets. The image displayed under him is rather obscene, his eyes following her breasts bouncing up and down as a result of his powerful movements. It makes his mouth water, so he attaches it on one of her nipples, taking the other one between his fingers.

“Lo…” she exhales sharply, arching her back against the mattress.

His thrusts grow rougher, more insistent, his hips snapping against hers with a force that sends shocks of pure pleasure through their bodies.

She cries out, but it’s not in protest. Her nails dig into his back, her head falling back against the pillows as she lets herself drown in him. “That’s it,” she gasps, her voice shaky but full of want. “Don’t hold back, baby, yes. I want all of you.”

Her praise spurs him on, his pace quickening as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he’s spent doubting himself, every ounce of self-restraint he’s forced upon himself this season. Each thrust is deliberate, punishing in the best way, and she meets him halfway, giving herself over completely.

“Shit, you like this, don't you?” he growls, his voice rough as his hand slides up her body, gripping her breast more firmly.

“Mhm, yes... yes, you feel so good,” she moans, tracing her palms over his back. “I love every part of you, Lo. Every damn part.”

Her words push him further, and he leans down, capturing her lips in a kiss so fierce it leaves her breathless. His hand moves to tangle in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her whimper, and he groans at the sound.

“And I love your pretty noises, baby. Keep making them for me, and I won't last much longer,” says Logan, breathing wetly against her skin, his cock dragging against her walls, and thrusting back in full force to show her that he means it.

She squeezes her eyes in pleasure, the pressure building rapidly inside her stomach.

His pace becomes erratic, every movement driven by pure emotion — frustration, need, love — all colliding in a chaotic duet of moans and whimpers. He’s rough, but not careless, every touch and thrust a declaration of everything he feels but can’t put into words.

That just makes her clench her involuntarily around him, dripping wet every time he pulls out only to shove himself back in. The slick sound is accompanied by their heavy breaths blending together, and the final result almost pushes both of them over the edge.

Except Logan's movements are getting restrained, his grip on her hips tight but trembling as if he's holding himself back. She feels it in the way his body hesitates, the tension coiling in his muscles but never fully released. It’s like he’s afraid to lose the last ounce of control, afraid to let go of the last thread of composure he’s clinging to.

“Lo,” she whispers, her voice cutting through the haze between them. He doesn’t stop fucking into her, but his eyes flicker up to hers, confusion mingling with the intensity in his gaze.

She cups his face with both hands, her thumbs gently brushing against his cheekbones. “It’s okay,” she says softly, her voice laced with reassurance.

His brows furrow, his thrusts stalling for a heartbeat. “No, baby.”

She tilts her head, holding his gaze steady. “Please. Whatever you’re feeling, let it out. I can take it, love. You know I can.”

He buries his face in her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin as he drives into her harder, rougher, with an urgency that leaves her gasping.

Her fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin as she holds him closer. “My perfect boy,” she murmurs, her voice small but encouraging. “I’ve got you.”

The sound he makes is guttural, almost pained, as if her words are the final push he needed. He drives inside her with a desperation that’s raw and unfiltered, pouring every ounce of frustration, anger, and self-doubt into fucking his girl. His girl, who was always there. His girl, who loves him, needs him, trusts him enough to let him ruin her.

No questions asked.

Suddenly, it's too much. All of it.

Logan stills inside her, wrapping his hand around her neck as their eyes meet.

Watching him come while his hand tightens possessively around her becomes quickly her favorite thing in the world. He looks like a dream, all drenched in sweat, floating above her like an angel, his chest heaving rapidly. His mouth falls open, letting out a noise so melodious, that she is sure it has the power to wake her up from the dead.

At that, it doesn't take much for her to follow him, coating them both in their release. He thrusts a few more times, lazily, before crashing on top of her, his face buried in her shoulder.

Right after, she feels the first shuddering sob escape his chest.

“Lo? Baby, look at me,” she whispers, her arms wrapping around him instinctively.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, his voice muffled against her skin. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears prick her eyes, and she strokes his hair gently, her own voice shaking. “No. Don’t ever be sorry.”

His sobs grow quieter, but they don’t stop, and soon she’s crying with him, their tears mingling in the quiet intimacy of the room.

“It’s going to be alright,” she whispers, her lips brushing against his temple. “I'm with you, baby,” she reminds him all over again, determined to keep doing it until he believes her. “And it's never too late to start over.”

He clings to her like a lifeline, his fingers digging into her sides as if afraid to let go. “I don't… know where to start.”

“We'll figure it out,” she says firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “You’re not done, Logan. Not by a long shot. Yeah?”

He stares at her, his eyes red and glassy, but there’s a flicker of something else there now — hope, gratitude, and so much love.

“Thank you,” says Logan, his voice cracking under the weight of his own doubts.

She presses a kiss to his forehead, holding him as close as possible. “Always, my love.”

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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beach-episode-by-night · 6 months ago

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pinned post

beach episode by night is a (hopefully) yearly january creative event in which vampire: the masquerade OCs and canon characters (and potentially other wod splat and vtr characters, if people are interested) have creative works made in which they are having a "beach episode." these creations are then reblogged to (or submitted to) this blog.

guidelines:

for our purposes, "beach episode" can also cover pools, lakes, billabongs, whatever. as long as they're in or near a swimmable body of water, it counts. and yes, merfolk AUs can count. you can draw, write, cosplay, craft, whatever you want! if you're using OCs that are not your own, make sure you have permission from their owners. bloody and gory creative works are permitted, and will be tagged appropriately. suggestive creative works are permitted, and will be tagged appropriately.

how to participate:

make something that fits the "beach episode" theme with vtm/wod/vtr ocs or canon characters, then either post it yourself and tag this blog or use the submissions box to submit directly to it! the event runs for the entire month of january, and there's no specific required prompt list, so go wild. and yes, you can tag this blog on old beach episode art, it will be reblogged.

important reiterated note:

mod is aussie, so this event is held across january! you can tag this blog and submit in the off-season, it will be dutifully queued for the next january. welcome to my world :D

#beach episode by night #beach episode by night 2025 #vtm #vampire: the masquerade

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lavenderspence · 9 months ago

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silly poker night reveals | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 1.8K

Content warning: basically just funny, or crack, alcohol mention, gambling addiction mention

Summary: A poker night with the silly crime men gets disrupted when a certain someone decides to prove he's not a psychic.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Patrick Jane, Richard Castle, Seeley Booth, Harvey Specter

A/N: One day, I just really wanted to write a fic with all my favorite silly crime men and have them be snarky to each other, and that’s what I did. This was literally written for the fun, for the vibes, for the hell of it, and then I just could not, not make it about my husband too. So, even if you’ve only watched one of the shows, give this a read, I think it's fun. enjoy🤭

and thank you to @reidsstargirl for beta reading this 🥺💕

masterlist

“You’re late.” You said after you pulled the door open. A rumpled blond was sitting in front of you - a white dress shirt, a black vest, and a gray suit jacket thrown over his shoulder.

He flashed you a lazy smile, all teeth, “Yeah, well, when have you known me to be punctual?” He pushed past you, stepping into the apartment, with no care in the world.

His eyes ran around the room, finding it empty of any other presence, “You little minx, you lied to me.” He turned around, eyes running through your body.

You smiled, eyes sparkling, “Yeah, well, I had to get creative if I wanted you to be on time, Jane. You have just enough time for a power nap, go enjoy the couch.” You threw his words back at him, and then waved a hand around, gusting to the emerald couch.

You made your way to the kitchen, picking up a half-full glass of champagne. Walking around for a second, you looked at the man on the couch and waited for the 15 minutes until 7:30 to pass, so you could welcome your other guests too.

You were waiting on Aaron and Spencer - they were coming straight from work, deciding to stay around an extra hour after you to finish up. Harvey was flying in from New York, Castle was driving down, and Jane was already snoring on your couch, and Booth was coming after closing a case.

You arranged these poker games once every two months, depending on how all your schedules aligned. You’d worked with all of these silly assholes at one point in your life. Sometimes, they needed some time to just goof around and play some games, nothing serious.

A few other of your colleagues joined occasionally - Rossi and Morgan loved the snark, and Emily was a fan of disturbing the testosterone with you from time to time. But all of them were busy, so it was just you and the usuals tonight.

12 minutes later, you were welcoming everyone in, and Jane was rousing from his nap, looking even more rumpled than before.

Spencer and Booth took their usual places in front of the TV, where you’d already queued a baseball game, and left them some snacks. The others each took a place at the table.

You usually played just one game, so you took your place as the dealer and shuffled the cards.

The conversation was sparse for a few minutes while you dealt the cards.

“Why’s Clark Kent not playing?” Rick asked all of a sudden, gusting to Booth with his head. Booth usually joined the gathering every few games, still not entirely comfortable coming every time. His addiction wasn’t something that you’d brought up or were looking to bring up during a night like this. He usually stayed away from the table, engrossed in a game of baseball on tv, or bothering Reid for any useless facts and calling him a squint.

“Let him be Rick, he needs the night out even if he isn’t playing.” Your answer was vague and it would stay that way as long as Booth wanted to be there and stay away from the game.

“And the kid?” It was Jane’s voice, and he raised a hand and pointed at Spencer. He was usually sitting the games out too, since the last time you and Hotch had played with him he’d hustled you.

“Go on, tell him.” You prompted Spencer, as he bookmarked the page he was reading.

“I’m good at poker.” It wasn’t convincing and it wasn’t the truth.

You shook your head with a laugh, “Nooo, Jane’s good at poker, Castle is good at poker. What are you good at?” You asked, your eyes meeting Aaron’s for a second.

“I'm good at counting the cards, and banned from several casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump.” Aaron’s lips twitched, a barely there grin appearing for just a second before it disappeared again.

“Can I borrow him for a poker night with my author buddies? Maybe even Kate? I really need a win.” Castle asked.

“He’s not winning against Kate, Rick. She will sniff him out before he even sits at the table. Now, Ryan and Esposito, on the other hand, you can easily steal some money from.” You told him as you took a sip from your drink.

Everyone else was having a drink - whiskey was the preferred drink at your table, Booth was having a beer and Spencer was sticking to water.

“Anything to drink Jane?” You asked again.

“Chamomile tea, two sugars please.”

“You do realize this is a poker game, and not an afternoon tea with Her Majesty, right?” Harvey’s usual snark was making a comeback for the first time tonight.

“But her Majesty’s sitting right there.” Jane's chin jutted towards Rick. It was no secret that out of every man currently in the room, Rick was probably the most pretentious one, closely followed by Harvey.

“Haha, very funny.”

“I didn't lie, did I? I highly doubt that the Ferrari parked downstairs can be bought on a government salary.” Quipped Jane.

“How do you know it's not Harvey's?”

“Because I'm not a pussy driving a bright red Ferrari around New York City, thank you very much.” Harvey threw a few chips in the center of the table.

“Well, said Ferrari costs anywhere between 70K and 120K. A Special Agent’s salary is around 135K, and 170K a year for Supervisory Special Agents. So realistically, yeah, we can’t afford it.” Spencer shrugged, turning a page in his book, not even phased by the looks everyone was throwing at him.

“I like this kid, he’s such a squint.” Booth laughed and gave Reid’s shoulder a little pat. Spencer tensed for a second but quickly relaxed again.

“Dammed it, I overpaid 30K for this one.” Castle scoffed, shaking his head.

Harvey produced a business card from somewhere and slid it toward Rick.

“In case you need it. Fair warning though, get on my nerves, and I’m giving you to Louis.”

“Aww he has a heart.” Rick pouted.

“Never repeat that, never.” The brunette warned.

“And a lot of snark.” You smiled, looking around. They all might have serious jobs during the day, but they were all extremely silly when they were off of work.

The game continued on for another 15 minutes, conversion flying by until Booth’s voice rang around you.

“Okay Jane, no offense, but I need to know. What’s your shtick? What made the FBI want to hire you as a consultant?” Seeley asked, turning a sobriety chip in his hand.

“Ugh, offense.”

“Oh come on,” Booth waved a hand around, “I’m one of the best sharpshooters out there,” you rolled your eyes and so did Rick, “Hotchner’s an ex-ADA, Y/N’s a weapons expert and a linguist. Reid over here is basically Einstein.”

“Well, actually, Einstein’s IQ is believed to be somewhere between 160 and 180, and mine’s 187, so technically, I surpass Albert Einstein.” Seeley wasn’t happy being interrupted again, but he let it slide, used to being interrupted by his own team.

“So Jane, what makes you such a special asset to the FBI? You're not still pulling the psychic card, are you?” To anyone, it might seem judgmental, the way he asked, but you knew it was anything but. He was curious, but he also valued his job too much not to ask.

Jane leaned back in his chair, laying his cards face down and his hands on top of them. He looked on over you, head to toe, and then his eyes focused on your left - to Aaron.

You saw his eyes shine for a second, and shook your head at him, already knowing what was going to come out of his mouth.

“There is no such thing as psychics. Just a very good eye for reading people. Like for example, all night Hotchner’s been a broody, quiet bastard, safe for any time Y/N talks. His eyes light up and he relaxes back into his chair.” You watched Aaron’s posture too tight and reached a hand under the table to lay over his leg.

You were glaring daggers in Jane's direction, but once he was on a roll, there was no stopping him. “Earlier, when she put his glass down, his fingers on the hand closest to her body, twitched. His cologne is expensive, freshly applied - he probably has a spear bottle in his office. He's been checking his watch, waiting for the night to end, so we'd all go home. Not him though, he's staying over.”

He played with the edge of his cards as he watched all eyes turn in your direction.

“Oh, and the murderous look he's been giving Harvey every time he catches him looking at Y/N a bit too closely. Also, the clenching of the jaw - seriously knock it off, you won't have teeth forever.” Jane warned before he leaned back into his chair, looking just a tad too proud of himself.

The silence was defeating for a few moments, no one dared to utter a word.

“I don't think they wanted that to be shared just yet.” Rick muttered

“No shit.” Aaron's fingers wrapped around your own as he gritted out.

“And I didn't want to be lied to, but alas…” Jane added, flashing you a grin.

“Oh, you petty asshole.” A grin was making its way onto your face and you didn't know why.

“Oh, I'm about to become even more of an asshole - full house.” He threw his card in the middle of the table, close to the chips.

“Awww, you really are an asshole.” Rick leaned back in his chair, defeated and pouting.

“Takes one to know one, Dicky.” He smirked.

“Are you okay with this?” You turned around and asked Aaron quietly, for a moment forgetting the room full of men you’d worked with over the years.

“I'm good, although being profiled wasn't my idea of fun for the night.” He admitted just as quietly, reaching to push your hair away.

“I'm sorry.” He went to close the space between you before you heard the scraping of chairs.

“Okay kiddos, mom and dad need us to empty the apartment. Go on, out the door.” Seeley announced. You rolled your eyes at his bullshit before you started giving goodbye hugs.

“If Hotchner's the dad, who's the daddy?” Harvey asked jokingly as he pulled you into a hug.

“Ask Louis tomorrow.”

“I didn't need the mental picture, thank you.” He shuddered and walked towards the door with the rest.

“Don't ask dumb questions then.” You called out, before you turned towards the good Doctor, “Oh and Spence? Keep this on the down-low, would you?” You asked, still not exactly ready to share this with your team, even after having the whole thing come out this way.

He smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his neck, “Yeah…too late.” and just then both your and Aaron's phones went off.

There was no question about it, there was a fun morning waiting for you tomorrow.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #patrick jane #seeley booth #richard castle #harvey specter #criminal minds crack

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oh-obrien · 9 months ago

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GRID ACE 0.3

GAMER READER X Lestappen SMAU

Summary: Reader is a Red Bull e-sports athlete who happens to catch the attention of two particular drivers with her streams

PART THREE and things are getting Suspicious 👀

And my requests for these are open!!

All pictures are from Pinterest!!!

Reader has various face claims!

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

Xx.y/n.xX just posted

Tagged @ yourteammate1 , @ yourteammate2, @ yourteammate3, @ yourteammate4, @ yourteammate5

Liked by Maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, and 12,348 others

Xx.y/n.xX contrary to popular belief I am still a professional, thank you Champs for having us! Fight’s not over, you know?

-> Yourteammate3 she stopped playing with cars long enough to help us win champions!!

-> Xx.y/n.xX 😌 Champs MVP even.

-> Yourteammate5 she stopped playing with boys who drive cars long enough to help us win champions*

Liked by @ Maxverstappen1, @ Charles_leclerc

-> Xx.y/n.xX hey woah! Let's keep it PG in here

-> Yourteammate3 GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, I mean queuing with them!

-> Landonorris 👀

Redbullgaming that’s OUR MVP!

-> Xx.y/n.xX admin you’re gonna make me blush!

Liked by @ Maxverstappen1, @ Charles_leclerc

-> Danielricciardo bet there's better people to make her blush

-> Xx.y/n.xX EXCUSE ME DANIEL

-> Danielricciardo I said what I said

Yourbestfriend Celebrating THE MVP!!

Liked by @ Xx.y/n.xX

Georgerussell63 The true Red Bull World Champion @ Maxverstappen1 you've got some competition

-> Xx.y/n.xX Thank you Mr. Russell 🫡

-> Xx.y/n.xX I've unlocked another Vroom Vroom character btw for all of those following my journey.

Charles_leclerc So glad to be there to support you 🎉🥳

-> Xx.y/n.xX aww shucks, thanks Char! 🤭

-> User1 CHARLES WAS THERE???? The plot thickens

-> User2 They are stuck to each other like they're glued together or something.

-> User3 the real question is if Max was also there or not.

-> User2 I feel like he had to be, especially if CHAR was there.

Maxverstappen1 our world champion! Way to go schatje

Liked by @ charles_leclerc

User4 Someone BETTER HAVE GOTTEN MAX'S COMMENT BEFORE HE DELETED IT

-> User5 WHAT WAS IT?

-> User4 He called her schatje!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Rebullgaming and Redbullracing just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX and @ Maxverstappen1

Liked by Charles_leclerc, Landonorris and 24,768 others

Redbullgaming Two of Red Bull's world champs take on laser tag following @ Xx.y/n.xX Valorant Champions win in Paris!

Xx.y/n.xX @ maxverstappen1 they made us look like movie stars!

-> Maxverstappen1 😎

-> Danielricciardo MAIN CHARACTERS

-> Redbullracing OUR main characters

-> Xx.y/n.xX dropping 30 bombs in laser tag and at champions in the same weekend!!

-> Redbullracing Move, or get zapped!

User4 MAX WAS THERE!

-> User5 IT'S CONFIRMED Max AND Charles went to support y/n at champions!

-> User4 she has to be more than friends with one of them I just can't tell which.

-> User6 I personally think both of them

-> User5 I feel like F1 wouldn’t be too happy about that

-> User6 the FIA stands no chance against our community service king, he WOULD NOT care

-> User4 Y/N and Charles are both so babygirl coded they’d let him take on the FIA for them

-> User5 counterpoint, Y/N would burn down an entire city for the people she cares about, Charles and Max are both also babygirl coded in her mind.

Landonorris Max and y/n make a deadly laser tag duo, @ charles_leclerc we stood no chance

-> Charles_leclerc don't mess with two world champions

Liked by @ maxverstappen1, @ Xx.y/n.xX

Scuderiaferrari Hope Charles put up a fight worthy of earning P2

-> Charles_leclerc 💪

-> McLaren this is slander @ Landonorris was P2

-> Xx.y/n.xX Sorry admin, Charles might bottom frag in Val but he's a beast at laser tag, @ landonorris stays at the bottom of the scoreboard this time

-> Landonorris I'm hurt

-> Xx.y/n.xX cry about it, loser.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Maxverstappen1 just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX and @ charles_leclerc

Liked by Redbullracing, Carlossainz55 and 32,234 others

Maxverstappen1 Thank you Paris!

-> Yourbestfriend my favorite trio!

-> Xx.y/n.xX the only trio that actually matters 🫡

User7 HELLO THE PICTURE OF Y/N AT THE CLUB??

-> User8 soft launch?

-> User7 this gets more and more sus with each day that passes

-> User9 if anything this is such a hard launch it isn't even believable

Redbullracing Excited to have out favorite Redbull duo (and Charles I guess) back at COTA next week!

-> User10 EXCUSE ME ADMIN

-> User11 Admin knows something we don’t 🧐

Alex_albon you can keep them Paris, more podiums for us with both of them gone

-> Landonorris I second this, take another week off

-> Charles_leclerc no.

-> Maxverstappen1 no.

-> Xx.y/n.xX you used to get velcroed to your car you don’t get a say right now

-> Landonorris I’m so hurt right now, WHO TOLD YOU THAT

-> Xx.y/n.xX and it was all too much for little Lando Norris

Liked by @ DanielRicciardo and @ Georgerussell63

-> Xx.y/n.xX sorry @ alex_albon I like watching them race too much, and Ferrari gives me good lattes

-> Scuderiaferrari the only Red Bull athlete we’ll take care of in our motorhome

Liked by @ charles_leclerc

-> Xx.y/n.xX omg admin what are we? 🥹 👉🏻👈🏻

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

User12 PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS TRIO

-> User13 Like you would think after Paris Y/N would’ve gone home with her team to celebrate their win

-> User14 Her team posted photos on the plane on the way home with their trophy and she definitely wasn’t there with them

F1forthegirls Y/N was seen leaving Max’s Monaco residence this morning with the Red Bull and Ferrari driver in tow all three had bags with them and were picked up by a driver to take them to the airport

-> F1forthegirls It was reported by airport staff that Y/N and Charles seemed particularly close while waiting to board Verstappen’s private plane, the two were reportedly leaning on each other and sharing whispers

-> F1forthegirls It was also said Verstappen was also brought in on the affection when Y/N leaned up to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek

User15 WHAT IS HAPPENING

-> User14 We need more updates on this trio we need to be FED

-> User15 I’m starting to think they’re all actually together, or at least Y/N is with both boys and they’re happy to share

-> F1forthegirls while we’re happy to share updates we will not be speculating on any driver’s personal relationships!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Xx.y/n.xX just added to their story

Landonorris I fear she is going to break the internet

Xx.y/n.xX my true intentions have been revealed

Landonorris enjoy the shit storm this is going to cause

Xx.y/n.xX and it was all too much for little Lando Norris

Danielricciardo This is such a hard launch they’re not going to believe it

Xx.y/n.xX 😉

Yourbestfriend 👀👀👀

Xx.y/n.xX Oops my fingers slipped

Tag list : @that-one-little-soybean

Leave me a comment to be added 😊

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 imagine #charles lecrelc x reader #max verstappen x reader #reader x lestappen #lestappen imagine

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c1phra · 19 days ago

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀─── ⠀𝐌ELODIES ⠀& ⠀𝐌EMORIA ✦ ⠀main post.

there's a cd in your hands. scrawled on the back of the case is a list of songs—seemingly handwritten. the selection is a mix of genres, but each seems to tell a story of its own. so what do you say? have someone you want to dedicate a song to? go ahead and press play.

mari's note : this is a songfic mini-event! please see below for the selection of prompts + characters i'm accepting this time. as of now, 10/10 slots have been filled. REQUESTS ARE CLOSED. masterlist -> here!

✦ ・ TRACK LIST ( 01 — 20 )

TRACK 01 : Blue Hair⠀ · ⠀TV Girl ( QUEUED )

“Nothing I could do to stop her from cutting... her beautiful blue hair off—” They’ve changed. You’ve changed too, no doubt. It was inevitable perhaps—knowing someone for that long, they’re bound to change at some point. But sometimes when you look at them, it’s hard to recognize who they are anymore.

TRACK 02 : Your Best Friend⠀ · ⠀Boyish ( QUEUED )

“We wasted nights, pretending not to kiss when we walk home—” Best friends. That’s all you’ve been, and all you will ever be. As much as you loathe to admit it, the stealthy kisses, the longing looks, the barely held back ‘I love you’s… they never made a difference at all.

TRACK 03 : The Exit⠀ · ⠀Conan Gray

“Feels like, we had matching wounds but, mine's still black and bruised and yours is perfectly fine now—” You share the same scars of the past. You're so alike, so perfectly matched. So why did you heal so perfectly, when they're stuck ten paces behind, trapped by a past that used to haunt you both? It isn't fair. Why do you get to move on? Why can't they? And why does seeing you like this—so happy—hurt so much?

TRACK 04 : Twilight⠀ · ⠀bôa

“You feel the same way that I do for you, about her—” Oh that look in their eyes, the lovestruck, soft look that makes your heart flutter... it's beautiful. It's breathtaking. And it's sickening, knowing that look will never fall onto you—not when it's so fixated on someone else.

TRACK 05 : Work Song⠀ · ⠀Hozier ( QUEUED )

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her—” Longing is too simple a word for what they feel. It's an ache, buried deep between the bars of their rib-cage, a soothing pain that yearns for you. The thought of you is the sweetest relief; knowing they have you to come home to is the only thing keeping their head up and legs moving forward. They'll always come home to you.

TRACK 06 : Cruel Summer⠀ · ⠀Taylor Swift

“I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard—” A summer fling, a whirlwind romance. It's temporary, it's fun; you knew it wouldn't last forever, but god does it feel good while it lasts. If only you could draw it out a little longer, hold back the farewells for just a few more weeks... but the end of summer is quickly approaching.

TRACK 07 : Sweet Talk⠀ · ⠀Saint Motel ( QUEUED )

“Everything you say, is sweet talk to my ears—” They're so head-over-heels in love that anything that comes out of your mouth makes them smile, no matter what it is. You could yell at them, laugh, or even ignore them entirely, but it doesn't matter—the fact that they're able to be in your presence is enough.

TRACK 08 : Out Of My League⠀ · ⠀Fitz and The Tantrums

“Yeah, you were more than just a dream—” Sometimes it feels like they're dreaming. They pinch themself, but it doesn't make it feel any less surreal; after all, how could they possibly end up with someone like you? Someone so perfect, and so unbelievably out of their league.

TRACK 09 : Memories⠀ · ⠀Conan Gray

“Can't be your friend; can't be your lover—” It would be a lot easier to move on from them if they didn’t keep showing up in your life, time and time again. And it would be a lot easier if you didn’t relent and let them creep back in, time and time again.

TRACK 10 : My Love Mine All Mine⠀ · ⠀Mitski ( QUEUED )

“Nothing in the world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine—” They're not used to having things to themself, things that won't break or be discarded, so this love—this tender, delicate sort of love, it's something new. But oh, they will treasure it. It's something for them—and you, of course... all for yourselves.

TRACK 11 : Waste⠀ · ⠀Oh Wonder ( QUEUED )

“Waste, what a waste... what a waste to be so alone—” It takes every ounce of self-control to not go crawling back. Maybe it was worse before, but maybe you had each other before, and maybe that helpless thought lingers, as much as you try to dismiss it. You'd give anything to rid yourself of this aching loneliness.

TRACK 12 : Casual⠀ · ⠀Chappell Roan

“I thought, you thought of me better... someone that you couldn't lose—” "Casual". One word that's been haunting your life for months. It's your own fault for agreeing so quickly when they brought it up, but you can't help but long for more. They have to know by now, just how deep your feelings run, but it'll never go any further. It's casual, it's always been just casual.

TRACK 13 : lacy⠀ · ⠀Olivia Rodrigo ( QUEUED )

“And I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you—” You can't fathom it. It feels like every part of them is perfect; perfect looks, perfect poise, perfect charm. You're nothing standing next to them. And all that resentment and envy and admiration seems to cloud your gaze—do you want them, or want to be them?

TRACK 14 : The 30th⠀ · ⠀Billie Eilish

“You were scared... and so am I—” It still scares you sometimes, just how close it was. In a heartbeat you could have lost them—you almost did lose them. And it still hits you sometimes, that wave of panic, the sight of their face. You're alive, you're both alive; that's all that you can focus on, now.

TRACK 15 : Do I Wanna Know?⠀ · ⠀Arctic Monkeys ( QUEUED )

“The nights were mainly made for saying things you can't say tomorrow day—” You're stuck in a limbo; both of you know there's something there, just a little deeper, but neither of you are willing to dig for it. Instead, you save your unspoken words for late nights and chance encounters, always crawling back to the other no matter what.

TRACK 16 : Favorite⠀ · ⠀Isabel LaRosa ( QUEUED )

“Darling, can I be your favorite—” It almost hurts, how badly they want to be yours. Your favourite, your treasured one, the one you call your own. They'd give you the world, if only in exchange for those few simple words; "You're mine. I'm yours."

TRACK 17 : Broken Waltz⠀ · ⠀Holden Laurence ( QUEUED )

“Bitter tears on a white dress; make-up stains on the sheets in protest—” 'Love', as they called it, is not something the universe deigned to give you. Not the fairytale, flawless kind of love you saw in romances. The 'love' that you two shared was nothing but fool's gold, a perfect replication of a relationship with none of the affection attached. And you're trapped, dancing this broken waltz 'til the music cuts out.

TRACK 18 : Anything You Want⠀ · ⠀Eliza McLamb

“You could eat me alive, and I'd let you do it 'cause it's all I know... but you wanna do it right—” They aren't accustomed to love. They're not used to the feeling of being wanted. They don't understand why you look at them so adoringly, they don't understand why, out of anyone, you'd choose to love them. They don't deserve you, but if they could be a little less of themself for just a bit... they'd be anything for you.

TRACK 19 : The Other Side Of Paradise⠀ · ⠀Glass Animals

“Bye-bye baby blue, I wish you could see the wicked truth—” The lover you once knew has grown up now, and grown out of your love. Too busy chasing the stars, it seems they forgot all about you... it's too bad then, that your attachment didn't fade as easily. It's too bad, that even though you still try, they've already slipped away. You only know them in hindsight, now.

TRACK 20 : get him back!⠀ · ⠀Olivia Rodrigo

“Oh, I want sweet revenge, and I want him again—” Is it a bad idea, reconnecting with your ex? According to every one of your friends, undoubtedly yes. But oh, don't you miss those good times? Even with the rocky parts, they had a way of making everything so exciting... What's wrong with wanting that again?

✦ ・ VOLUME SETTINGS

for fem!reader, please select [volume: high]

for gn!reader, please select [volume: low]

✦ ・ DEDICATION

who's this track playing for? see below the selection of available characters to dedicate your song to. please note, this list is limited to characters i will definitely want to write for, so i don't lose motivation.

honkai star rail : anaxa. aventurine. boothill. cipher. jiaoqiu. kafka. moze. reca. robin. sunday.

genshin impact : alhaitham. chiori. furina. heizou. kaveh. kokomi. tighnari.

zenless zone zero : harumasa. hugo. lighter. seth. vivian.

mari's note : make sure to specify a track, volume, and dedication in your song request! i'm only planning on writing one drabble per prompt, so tracks that have been selected are crossed out. if a character name has been crossed out too, it means they've already been requested twice and can no longer be selected!

#i tried to get a variety of pop and indie songs in there but this is mostly just songs i like oops #whatever. it's MY event and i choose the prompts >:3 #₍ ᐢ..ᐢ ₎ mari's writing #—stellaronhvnters.#hsr x reader #genshin x reader #zzz x reader

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