#‘why woULd aNYoNe CAre ABouT ceLEBritIEs’
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Heart of the Dreaming
Morpheus x Female Reader
Soulmate AU
You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Chapter Two - Take my hand
☆☆☆
It was starting to get light outside. Alex had left you locked in your room all night. You could hear voices outside your door, but you didn't care to even try and listen in.
Since your father died, Alex had become a stranger to you. He was nothing like the boy you once knew.
You're not sure exactly how much time had passed. You had resulted in laying on your bedroom floor listening to the mumbled voices and the footsteps, as well as thinking about the man in the basement.
The way he looked at you. It was like he knew you. The man from your dreams...
You hadn't fallen asleep at all, so you had no idea if you were still able to dream of him. You wanted to know why you were dreaming of him.
There was so much you didn't understand.
Eventually, the door to your room opened. You looked up with tired eyes to see Alex coming into the room. You summoned what energy you had to push yourself up into a sitting position.
Alex closed the door behind him and leant against it. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. You could see his frown clearly, though.
"Come to scold me?" You ask quietly.
Alex doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares at you. He then lets out a huge sigh.
"You shouldn't have gone down there."
"Who is he?" You ask.
Alex stares at you.
"Who is he?" You ask again, demanding an answer.
"Some kind of Dream Lord."
"Dream Lord?" You look at him curiously. You can tell Alex doesn't want to answer. "Why is he trapped in out basement?"
"Because father failed to trap Death. They're siblings or something... Look, I don't know the details, but we can't let him out. He could hurt everyone."
"Hurt everyone? I assume he'll only hurt those who have kept him prisoner. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me."
"He couldn't. There's a difference. He needs to stay down there." Alex speaks firmly.
"Who put you in charge?" You ask, glading at him.
Alex clenches his jaw and pushes off the door. He grabs the doorknob and looks at you again. "Do not ever go down there again."
He leaves you alone once more.
☆☆☆
Security in the house doubled. The basement was never unattended. Any time you moved around the house, you were constantly being watched. You were never able to get down into the basement again.
Something had changed in you.
Alex had gone mad with anger when he realised.
You had stopped aging.
While everyone else in the house grew older as the years began to pass, you didn't. By your 30th birthday, you had stopped ageing. Alex had gone down into the basement one night and demanded to know what the Dream Lord had done to you.
Morpheus never uttered a word to him.
That angered Alex even more.
"You will never get out of here."
Morpheus watched him go in silence. Angry didn't quite cover how he felt. He was already planning his revenge for being trapped so long, but if you've been hurt in process too, Dream had no intention of showing mercy.
☆☆☆
Too much time had passed, and you hadn't aged a day. Alex couldn't stand it. He was getting old. He now looked much older than you. It wasn't normal.
Alex had celebrated his 70th birthday party.
You had not been permitted to attend, not that you would have wanted to if you had. Alex had kept you locked in his room. Only he and Paul could enter your room.
He didn't want anyone to see you.
You weren't even allowed into the garden. The most fresh air you got was through your window, which only opened a little bit. Your life had been the worst it had ever been.
Still, every night, you dreamt of the Dream Lord. However, the dreams had changed slightly. It felt like he was looking right at you in them now. Like he could see you.
Many mornings, you have woken up, heart racing.
If he was a dream lord, then surely could sense your dreams. Him being trapped is what made dreaming so rare.
You look down at the scar on your wrist. It healed itself, but every so often, you could feel the burn. When it bothered you, you would cover it gently and press down on it. The burning would subside. You were certain it had something to do with him and that he could feel you through it... Or you could just be making things up to cope with the fact you were also a prisoner in this house now.
Alex stares at your door. Paul had been pushing him in his wheelchair toward the basement when he asked to stop a moment. Very few people knew of you and your "condition," as Alex called it.
He was going to go down into that basement one final time. He swore this would be the last time. He was going to attempt to bargain with the thing down there again.
Alex refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a thing. Not after everything that's happened in this house.
Rodrick, Ethel, you.
"Let's go." He says firmly. Paul pushes him the rest of the way to the basement. Alex had checked his pocket for the key to your room. It was there. Good.
You could hear them leave through your door. You wait until it goes quiet, and then you hear another set of footsteps. You smile. You knew Alex was going down to visit the man from your dreams again.
Alex underestimated you, or perhaps he was just neglectful in his old age. Despite being confined to your room, you could hear an awful lot. Be it from conversations taking place just beyond your door or words spoken in the garden within earshot of your open window.
He also underestimated some of his guards. How easy they were to bribe. As long as they got paid, they would do anything. The master key to the house was kept in the office. Alex never locked the office. His first mistake. His second was giving the guards access to the entire house. The third was thinking you were harmless in your room.
A trade. Money, which you still had access to, for the key to your room.
That exact key slid under your door, and you slide the money through. You hear the guard walk away, and you pick up the key.
You're careful as you unlock the door and poke your head out. Just because some of the staff can be bribed doesn't mean that some aren't loyal to Alex.
Some of them pitied the woman Alex kept locked away in her room.
Down in the basement, Alex stared at the strange man who had been down here since he was a boy. This was the last time he would come down here.
"I could have asked you for wealth or power, like my father did. But all I ever wanted was for my sister and I to be free of you."
Dream stated at him silently.
"Surely you want that too."
Dream remains silent. All he can think about is what he would do if he could get out. How can he get to you? You deserve better than this family.
"Alex, darling, please." Paul pleads.
Alex sits back down in his wheelchair, but before he lets Paul take him away, he turns back to Dream. Morpheus only follows his movements with his eyes.
"She stopped ageing. That was your doing, right? That day my sister came down here, you did something, didn't you?"
Dream does not reply per usual, but his brows do crease together slightly.
"Leave her alone. That's all I ask of you now. I won't be coming down here again."
The circle that kept Dream trapped had been broken by the wheel of the wheelchair. Paul glanced at it but said nothing. The two men left.
You waited for the opportunity. You would need to wait for Alex to go to bed before you went anywhere. There was also the issue of the guards down in the basement.
You hadn't thought that far ahead, but yo were determined to see that man again. You had questions that you couldn't wait to ask anymore. Alex wasn't going to answer them, so you had to ask him.
You didn't have much time to come up with a plan, but as it would turn out, you wouldn't need one. Not exactly.
Alex had gone to bed. You were certain of it. With your key in hand, you unlocked your door and poked your head out. You heard foot disappearing at the end of the hall but saw no one else. You step out and close your door behind you.
You're about to make your way down the hall when the sound of gunshots echoes from the basement. The sound is so loud that you're certain everyone can hear it.
You hear voices behind you and run for it, putting in the code for the door you had memorised and disappear down into the basement. You come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.
One guard had his gun raised at the sphere, which had now shattered. The other guard was trying to calm the other, but she soon stopped when the man inside the sphere stepped out.
He was tall. Very slender. Pale. Handsome.
His eyes had locked onto yours. You felt like the air had once again been stolen from your lungs. You stare at him as a portal opens up beside him.
You're afraid.
He stands there, harsh wind whipping at him from the portal, his hand raised out toward you. He doesn't utter a single word, but you understand.
You don't, can't, move.
He lowers his hand and turns to the portal. He leaves.
You gasp softly, finding yourself able to breathe again. Whatever power he seems to have over you, it feels almost suffocating. You doubt you'll see him again, but your scar burns and you have to wonder.
☆☆☆
You had retreated back to your room before anyone realised who you were or what you were doing down there. You had been unable to sleep.
The house has been the most awake you have ever heard it. Paul had called loudly for a doctor. Guards had been running back and forth constantly through early hours of the morning.
You had kept to yourself in your room. By the time the sun came up, your door was unlocked and opened. Paul was standing in your doorway. You sat up on your bed and looked at him.
He had definitely looked better.
"He's gone."
You stare at him. "Who?"
You knew who.
"The man. He's gone. Alex is... he won't wake up..."
You feel something heavy in your stomach. Alex wouldn't wake up? That sounded like that sickness people had. Did the man do that?
"I... I know what to do."
You let the silence hang between you both. What could you say? You used to like Alex when you were children, but after Rodrick died, he became just the same.
"Look, I know you didn't like him for keeping you locked up in here, but look at you. You're not... normal. The man did something to you."
"He didn't do anything," you defended him. Despite knowing nothing about him, you chose to defend him.
"He must have. Can you even die...? Something happened to you. Magic, or something."
You scoffed.
"I'm not going to ask you to leave. You can stay here. I won't even lock the door anymore."
"How kind of you," you say dryly.
Paul realised this wasn't going anywhere. He had told you what happened and that was it. Paul closes the door behind him but doesn't lock it. He leaves you alone.
You let go of your tough front and feel the tears fall gently. You wipe at your cheeks and curl up on your bed.
Now, what are you supposed to do? You have nowhere else to go. No one to rely on. Not even your dream man.
You were alone.
☆☆☆
@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker
@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic
@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda
@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever
@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 -
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ACOFAS ReRead
Many people seem to have the idea that you shouldn’t read FAST bc it’s a novella and not important. But i really think everyone should ready it because it really sets up for SF. Obviously.
So something stood out to me. When Feyre is talking about her building a grave for their father so Elain could have somewhere to visit him bc she had burned his body. She says that she had invited Nesta many times and she had turned them down every time. I think this really shows how Feyre was trying to extend any sort of olive branch for them to spend time together, but met with a wall. I’m SF we see why Nesta acts this way. But I’ve seen a lot, not every, but a lot of Nesta fans forget that Nestas POV isn’t the only thing to take into consideration. Feyre did try to spend time with Nesta, did try to rebuild a new relationship with her. And obviously Nestas trauma prevents this from happening and she pushes them away, which is a realistic trauma response. But I don’t think it’s fair for those fans to say Feyre “forgot” about Nesta, or “let her destroy herself”, or “treat her like an outcast”. And when Amren made a comment about Nesta saying “Let’s see if she shows up drunk” Feyre said “Leave Nesta out of this” Basically telling Amren to not use Nesta to make Cassian mad. Making me confused when fans say Feyre never defended Nesta. She even defended Nesta to RHYS multiple times. Ain’t he beginning of the book telling him “She’s my sister you will have to forgive her some day” and saying “If you blame one you have to blame the other” calling him out for being a hypocrite about Elain and Nesta. Even in ACOWAR she defended Nesta to Rhys when he made a joke about Nesta. She said “my sister isn’t some wild animal”. Just something to throw out there since it stood out to me.
Another thing that really stood out to me was Feyre asking Nesta to come to Solstice.
It starts off by Elain telling Feyre she invited Nesta to their dinner and her reply was “you have your lives and I have mine. This comment kind of backs up my point about the fans that say Feyre “treated Nesta like an outcast”. Nesta made herself into an outcast. Feyre even told Elain “Nesta is still apart of this family” Elain later says that Nesta said she didn’t want to come to anything. Ever. Again outcasting herself from Feyre and Elain.
In the tavern she notices “For every once that Elainbhad gain, Nesta seemed to have lost” Noting that Nesta was withering away. Much to like how she was when she was back in the Spring Court after UTM. This really sets up forSF as to why Feyre decided to force Nesta out of her isolation. She sees her sister withering away, drunk all the time, killing herself if the slowest way possible. Feyre knows how that feels (aside from the drinking) so why would she just sit by and continue to allow that? Especially since she had wished that anyone would have stepped in when she was in that position. She then tells Nesta “Solstice is the day after tomorrow. What will it take for you to be there” “For Elaina sake, or yours?” “Both”. Feyre outright telling her that she isn’t there just for Elain but for herself too. That she wants Nesta to celebrate it with them. Nesta says “It’s not even our holiday. We don’t have holidays.” I think this really shows how Nesta was choosing to be cruel towards Feyre. Because let’s not forget that Solstice is Feyres BIRTHDAY. And Nesta knows that. Feyre asks “Why? Why this insistence on distancing yourself.” Instead of getting angry or blaming her for their falling out she asks her why. Giving Nesta the opportunity to open up to her sister. Obviously Nesta doesn’t have to but a lot of fans again seem to ignore this and say that Feyre never cared or didn’t see that Nesta was struggling. When Feyre is leaving she just says “Please come” and Nesta says “My rent. It’s due next week. In case you forgot.” Which again was just Nesta choosing to be mean and vindictive.
While I understand that Nesta is going through something, all of them are. They all are going through so much. They all are going through the after math of UTM of Hybern, Elain being made as well as Nesta, Elaina dan Feyre losing their father just like Nesta, Feyre being tortured by Amarantha for 3 months, just as Nesta was tortured by the cauldron. Yet Nesta is the only one who is being so cruel on purpose. And yes, trauma is different for everyone, but trauma is not an excuse. Your actions still have consequences. Though in SF we see why Besta acts the way she does, she still acted the way she did and that doesn’t change.
I am glad she’s healing! I’m glad she has the Valkyries. I’m glad she started to make amends with Feyre after she saved Feyre and Nyx. I’m glad she finally went to see her father’s grave. I can’t wait to see more of her growth.
But I’m tired of some fans completely ignoring and excuses all of her actions. The point of her character is to admit and take accountability of her behavior and to move on from it. To grow. To learn. If we just completely excuse it, ignore it, then we aren’t doing her charcater development justice! We’re throwing the whole point of her journey into the garbage!
Anyways, this is my opinion. These are just my thoughts since I’m rereading the series. If you have a different opinion awesome! I will not be arguing with anyone so if you have anything negative to say, say it somewhere else not in my page. Keep it respectful and I’ll gladly hear your takes. Otherwise, I won’t give you the time of day. 🩷
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it’s three in the morning and i can’t sleep because tomorrow we may wake up to find that Rafah is gone.
i lost my job on march 31 and the whole time i’ve been fighting with unemployment all i can think about are the fact that houses in Gaza are rubble.
i forget to eat and the hunger reminds me of Palestines that are starving, and have been starving for months. i go grocery shopping and wonder how many died while i was getting deodorant. i clean my house and think about the sewage piling up. i get my period and cannot fathom how Palestinian women are continuing
i watch as many videos as i can, i share information, i try to uplift their voices, i mourn with them and pray for them and plead with anyone who has the power to liberate them
we watch college students brutalized (again) as they are screaming in the face of militarized police who have been sent by our own government to oppress them. we see celebrities that could evacuate thousands with the wave of a hand dress up in clothes that cost more than most of us make annually.
our government officials are cohorts, sponsors, defenders, friends, and enablers of those who are literally drawing out innocent people with the sound of crying children to murder them. iserali soilders have literally posted war crimes on their social media accounts, iserali citizens have been invited to their bases to watch the torture of Palestinians. they sign american made bombs and take pictures around it before dropping it on homes with sleeping families.
we’ve seen mass graves, people stripped with their hands tied behind their backs before they’re killed. we’ve seen a child surrounded by her dead family, trapped in a car while iserali soilders kill anyone who attempted to help her
and all of this is happening while i’m trying to get a job so me, my roommate, and my cats don’t starve or end up homeless. i don’t have money to pay rent, i only have groceries because i have a sister willing to share resources with me, i have to pay a late fee on three bills because i’ve been fighting with unemployment for a month, i’m now late on renewing my car tag because i can’t afford it without a job, and i’ll be so real
i don’t care. i don’t give a fuck at this point. i don’t want anything to fucking do with a country that has commited this absolute bullshit. i don’t want to work for or with a zionist. i would rather punch their fucking teeth out, and that wouldn’t be a fraction of the violence they’d wish on me for simply saying that Palestinians deserve liberation.
how the fuck am i supposed to look for a job when my country is supporting a genocide? how the fuck am i meant to keep trucking along in day to day life when infection and disease are being purposefully spread through Palestine? why the fuck do you expect me to give a shit about bills when we are murdering an entire people
i want every missile launched to backfire. i want all iserali weapons to malfunction. i want to grab every zionest and scream to get the fuck off Palestain land. i want to break down the doors of every politician who would dare to support a genocide and impact a sliver of the fear Palestinians face every day
i am so sick of living and participating in a system that has consistently fucked so many people, throughout so many generations, all in the name of keeping the rich comfortable. i am so tired of the endless ways america specifically has fucked the entire globe. i am so tired of being forced to grow up watching as people everywhere suffer so the wealthy can be comfortable. - and do not forget that the end goal of this does benefit the rich.
do not forget that they are committing a genocide for a land grab. do not forget that there are plans for beach resorts on Gaza strips. do not forget about the canal project, about the oil, about all the resources the greedy fuckers controlling the world are already planning to rip from Palestine
and i know this post is, a, long, but b, very whiny. this is not to say that there isn’t hope. this is not to say that we shouldn’t keep fighting.
this is to say that it’s now four in the morning, and tomorrow i could wake up and Rafah could be gone, so i am still not asleep, because the only thing i can offer right now is my words, and my time, and my sleep, and that is such a little price to pay if it means someone reads this and thinks of Palestine
this is to say that despite everything, despite all the bullshit and how insane it is to continue, i will; because there’s no other choice at this point.
if we want to see the revolution we have to continue. if we want Palestine to be free then we have to continue. if we want better for our future, if we want better than what history has to offer, we must continue
and i hope, if nothing else, there is solidarity in our shared anger, action in our outrage, and results in our resistance born of love and compassion for a nation that our ancestors have failed
may Allah protect Rafah, may my Goddesses protect Palestinians, may our people liberate the world, and may we see the end of global tyranny that has oppressed the working class for centuries
#free gaza#free palestine#all eyes on rafah#all eyes on palestine#palestine#gaza genocide#sorry this is kinda a mess#i’m very emotional and also sleep deprived#and also trying to grasp the reality of this as it’s happening live is insane#like i feel like i’m going insane guys
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I don’t know what a parasocial relationship is and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.
#I mean I sort of get it#but there is a mental block#it’s not all poisonous I guess!!!! sometimes you love people from afar!!!!! it’s okay!!!!!#reality will let you know when it’s time to let them go#I loved stonefield for YEARS and you know what it’s good they broke up because it got too intense#and I healed and moved on. but also like. love from afar isn’t inherently messed up and twisted#‘why woULd aNYoNe CAre ABouT ceLEBritIEs’#ummm idk because they’re human beings And have you met human beings they can be so funny and fascinating and charming#No amount of fame or ego undoes that and sometimes it just makes it more tragic#and like. I say this as someone who has (largely) moved on from caring about celebrities the way that I used to#because like. I needed to. And I needed to grow up#and learn to love the people in my life the most#and to understand who that was#and that it WASn’t Emma stone#But like. I loved her truly and a part of my heart still does#anyway like. all of our lives/loves need to be purified in the Sacred Heart#that is just how it goes#and that is the only way to never lose them#Cc: that cs lewis quote about how only in loving Him more than them can we love them more than we now do etc. etc.#anyway I can’t remember my point but like oh yeah sometimes you love people from afar and they’re special to you and like THAT’s OKAY#like yeah yeah blah blah equal healthy relationships that go both ways where you are also seen and loved yeah yeah#it just annoys me though#Life is about learning how to love deeply and purely#and you only learn that by loving#Reality will teach you!!! when it’s off balance a little and needs to adjust !!!!!!!!#something will smack you in the face#But the act of love is never wasted#Okay I DO know what a parasocial relationship is (sort of) I just hate the rhetoric#Love the things you love with your WHOLE heart!!!! Give your WHOLE HEART to things!!!!!!!!! Yes it will get broken!!!!!! That’s okay!!!!!!!#Do not choose disdain!!!!!!!! Do not let anyone tell you you can’t love people or things YES YOU CAN
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i love acting like 1989tv is going to catapult me into a 1989 phase when we've done this three times already so i know that actually i'll listen to it once in full and be like huh these sound mildly different in a way that is so uncanny to me because of how well i know the originals and then i will only listen to the vault tracks and in a year will finally warm up to the album and have a belated 1989 phase :)
#and honestly? not complaining at all#i keep forgetting speak now tv is out#and i had my taylor discography playlist on the other day in the car and a speak now song came on (mean maybe?) and i was like half paying#attention and halfway through the song i'm like why the fuck does this sound so weird?#like girl did you forget about taylor lautner backflip?? hello????????#it's wild how ppl moralize liking/not liking the rerecords on here (on both sides of the equation) and it's such a tired convo so i hate#posting about it bc really what am i adding to this discussion#but if anyone cares my stance is that music and memory is so personal and if your excitement about the rerecords#and the technical/vocal improvements in the (earlier especially) recordings works better for you then that's so awesome!!#i wish my creature-of-habit brain could work a little more like that truly bc i think i would have a teeny bit more fun with this#but if you're like me and have gotten used to/emotionally attached to specific vocal performances and tiny details#take ur timeeeeeeee <3 the best part about music is that once it's out it's not going anywhere#the best feeling is when you start having those attachments to the rerecorded version of a song (state of graceeeeeee)#and if that adjustment never happens for u then that's also fine (although it takes two seconds to put those mp3s of all the albums u def#have lying around somewhere into a silly little spotify playlist and listen to those instead of streaming the ogs. turn on local files!!!!)#anyway. i love not giving scooter braun/ppl who treat music as an investment instead of an art money <3#and i love that the rerecords have bene giving us a chance to really reflect upon and celebrate specific albums and eras for a prolonged#period of time. especially as someone who missed most of these when they were happening.#vi is typing...
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Like. Too awkward for people to enjoy talking to. Too socially anxious to bring myself to try or to feel any enjoyment when I do. Too depressed and detached to get absorbed into things to connect with other people. Too suicidal to be worth getting invested in. Too degenerate for people to want to be associated with. I don't know how I'm going to make any more genuine connections at this point.
#not even to mention my 'autistic' coworker implying that people who sturggle to make friends r creepy and is a red flag#another coworker saying the people at job training programs are usually losers (same type of people I thought were the only real ones)#multiple coworkers gossipping about how another coworker looks like a murderer and stalking through#his facebook to see if he's ever been arrested just because he's a bit awkward#my partner keeps telling me most people are good people but then why is it like this everywher i go#even on the internet people moralising over who youre friends are and talking aout how people like me deserve to be dead#like okay i know that if i killed myself mo t people wouldnt know or care and if anyone knew why they would celebrate my death#how am i supposed to drag myself out of this#vent
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never forgiving we heart it for dropping off the face of the earth without warning
#my profile was my library of alexandria like 😭#YEARS of collections LOST and for WHAT#for PODCASTS???#i was a niche micro celebrity guys i literally had 10k followers like 😭#it was my go to resource for collages like…the loss of my glanimals album aes collections was BRUTAL#and in general i’m a digital hoarder so losing 5+ years worth of collections that somewhat represented me is )): idk#kinda charted my adolescence thru it#i had collections for wips too and those are just Gone. they said i can download things but why would i want to download my own photos.#anyways does anyone else care about this idk but i’m kinda heartbroken </3 even if the app got worse over the years#weheartit
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It feels undeserving 👍
#once again thinking if i should like. not tell anyone#not tell anyone when the festival will be held nor my thesis defense#dont tell anyone absolutely anyone so no one can come see me#whyshould i make people waste time on seeing probably one of the worst things i have worked on#i feel. judged everyday. nothing is as good as it should be#this does not feel like a feat but rather a terrible shame#who cares about my degree i always feel like im being shamed when someone broughts up the fact im working on my thesis#i like what i study. dont get me wrong. and i dont think this in general. this is a me only issue and iknow that#and i know everyone would get upset with me#not like my mind cares haha the thoughts wont stop even if i try to be rational#i feel like such a terrible burden just asking for help. i feel like everyones thinking what a disappointment i am#i shouldnt need help. i should be doing this alone. and it should be way better than the garbage im making#last class the professors asked me 'why did u rate yourself so low? your work is fine'#i didnt even pick the low option i wanted. i picked a higher one to be generous with myself. i wish i had picked a 1. thats what i deserved#even if they say it looks good or that they r excited to see what i make. it all sounds like lies in my head#no one showing up is what i deserve. i shouldnt ask for help. i shouldnt celebrate anything#i wish people would yell at me and tell me what a fuck up i am#'the people that love you would be excited to help you if you would actually let them'#it all feels like a set up for showing what an idiot i am#haunted.txt
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Being where I'm from I don't feel comfortable publicly stating any sort of opinion on the events of today, but I obviously do have opinions, ofc. Just gonna state now I'm not comfortable talking about it on any sort of public forum - I'm from a country which has been deeply and repeatedly fucked over by e/ngl4nd and Br1ta1n, and yet pledges loyalty to them in the form of extremism. That's not to say the other side is innocent, of course — our political situation is deeply complicated and both sides engage(d) in t3rr0rism. But, I live in this country, in a specific area with specific views, and I don't feel safe speaking publicly on this, so. I won't be ❤️ cheers lads.
#out of character.#to be deleted.#I am personally not involved with the politics of my country but I don't care what your opinions are tbh#Whether you mourn or celebrate I really dgaf LMAO#Tho I will say - idk why anyone WOULD do this - but if I see anything negative or laughing about my country I'm gonna block lol#It's nearly impossible to understand the situation in my country if you don't grow up here#So yeah just. Just saying that tho idk why anyone would make jokes about us specifically lmao
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the fact that Tory had these (almost) two years in her childhood where things were semi-normal and stable makes it so much worse because she does know *some* of what she’s been missing out on and it hurts so bad, even if she won’t admit it
#[about]#ironically this is related to the j.esse m.ccartney post yesterday#because for a short time she did get to know what it felt like to have normal kid interests and dreams#and do stuff like cover her bedroom walls in celebrity posters and pretend like j.esse m.ccartney could come in and sweep her away anytime#but then it was all gone again. like it never happened in the first place.#suddenly shit went wrong and she was back in ‘the real world’ where posters were a waste of money#and there was no dream of anyone ever coming to rescue her from anything. no riding off into the sunset thinking everything would be alright#it was so long ago and she was so young she wonders how much of it was real and how much of it was just her wishful thinking#and wanting things to be fine. how much of it did she idealize?#it feels stupid to her either way. SHE feels stupid for ever wanting that.#it’s what she tells herself. that she was a stupid little girl with stupid little dreams. that she was wrong to get comfortable.#and it’s part of why there’s always a part of her that feels like she’s waiting for everything to go wrong again#but she’s learning not to let that feeling ruin good things for her anymore. the things she wants and cares about.#she’s trying not to self sabotage out of fear anymore
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I get people like to hate on celebrities for any number of flippant reasons.
But when you start using carbon emissions as your chief complaint, not only are you demonstrating the effectiveness of corporate Kool aid, but you are deeply unserious.
#cry me the Nile about private jets#i can't believe anyone in my year of 2023 is cry-whining about CARBON EMISSIONS as a MORAL FAILING because of PRIVATE JETS#gtfo#come back when you have something relevant to regurgitate#good grief never in my life would i expect random civilians to CARE about such an obnoxious and irrelevant thing#do you voluntarily pay the airlines extra cash to 'offset carbon emissions' too???#if you whine about any celebrity's private jet you better or shut up forever#sorry but the private jet thing isn't gonna change and honestly they deserve it not to be mobbed by fans and haters#if you're wondering if this is about Taylor Swift#yes it is#😂#trying to determine from comments why tf she's any more 'problematic' than any other person#and all I'm getting are CARBON EMISSIONS#a whole set of comments and that's literally all they say#deeply unserious#can't believe those words come out of people's mouths and they expect anyone else to pay attention to any point from them ever again#commentary#delete later#a rant#tell me you don't understand anything about science or the world without telling me you don't understand#if you're whining about Swift's private jet you better crusade against every other celebrity jet out there too#also you better not fly anywhere because heaven forbid you emit carbon#go plant a tree
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Cat and Mouse
❝ Wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant in avoiding him after the amazing night you two spent together, but he’s not going to let you get away from him so easily. ❞
PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader
GENRE: bad boy au, smut
WORD COUNT: 5.6k
WARNINGS: bad boy!wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, descriptions of minor injuries, wonwoo is down HORRENDOUS, reader is in denial about her feelings, our bad boi is soft for one (1) person, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare
ㅤ→ continuation of this timestamp
A/N: here’s a little something to celebrate one year with this blog. very grateful to all my followers and mutuals who’ve made this past year amazing! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
Wonwoo glares at his phone, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.
It’s been a week. An entire fucking week without hearing from you. He knew he should’ve ignored Jihoon’s calls and stayed in bed with you that night, but when he sent a message saying the entire crew needed to be there, he couldn’t ignore it. Now, he really wishes he would have.
The night he spent with you was the most incredible of his life, and now he might never relive it because he left in a haste, only leaving you with a brief kiss and a promise to come back.
“You still torn up over that sweet lil’ thing from that flower shop?” Seungcheol's voice has never sounded more irritating than it does now.
“That’s Shua’s girl, dumbass.”
Being on the receiving end of that mean tone and angry glare doesn’t faze Seungcheol in the slightest. In fact, it only causes his infamous smirk to get wider. To see the stoic Jeon Wonwoo acting up over a girl is not only a rarity, but it’s also really fucking funny. That’s why he can’t resist pushing Wonwoo’s buttons further.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seungcheol cackles. “Guess you better hurry up and help us finish this shit. Her shift ends soon.”
Wonwoo can feel his irritation near that boiling point he could usually avoid. Of course Seungcheol knows about your schedule. That asshole has the annoying habit of knowing everything about anyone who is even the tiniest bit associated with the crew. Sure, it’s for precautionary reasons, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Nonetheless, Wonwoo focuses on the task at hand so he can catch you before you leave work.
Jeon Wonwoo is the bane of your existence.
From the moment he first came around with that stupidly attractive smirk of his, your life was never the same. And now that you fucked him, it never will be again.
Giving into your carnal desires isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but getting mixed up with the likes of Jeon Wonwoo definitely is. Despite not knowing all of the grimy details, you know he’s bad news. You can see all the red flags clearly—the people he hangs around, all the fights he gets in, and the tattoos littering his body. And yet, none of those warning signs mattered now or when Wonwoo was ravishing you in a way that still made your toes curl just by thinking about it.
Maybe the worst part of it all is that you can’t get the resident bad boy out of your head, or the way he held you after you two had sex. It’s like you can still feel how he nuzzled into your neck, strong arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Part of you hopes that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t had some urgent business to take care of. It’s a dangerous thought, but even so you can’t help but crave that uncharacteristically sweet side of him that he presumably only showed you.
A displeased sigh comes out of you as you gather your things to go home. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo, but to think that you’re actually pining over him even though he literally disappeared after your night together is—
“Y/N left already.”
It’s Mingyu’s voice you hear at first, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You wonder who could be asking for you until you hear someone answer him. It feels like your heart is going to jump out of your chest when you hear a familiar deep voice that has your stupid pussy clenching in anticipation.
“Alright. Thanks.”
You peek out from the back when you hear the door chime. It’s annoying that your chest tightens when you see a set of wide shoulders draped in a leather jacket walking toward the large motorcycle parked outside. The way your mind goes blank yet is also clogged with nothing but thought of Wonwoo is infuriating. You don’t realize you’re pouting at the exit until Mingyu jumps back in shock at seeing your sulking figure.
“Y/N what– I thought you left!” He says, vaguely gesturing behind him. “You just missed your boyfriend! I think he wanted to take you home—”
“Boyfriend?” You interrupt him, not entirely angry or disgusted that your coworker had referred to Wonwoo as such.
Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? The scary dude with the leather jacket that comes in here all the time just to see you. He’s your boyfriend, right?”
It’s almost mortifying that your sweet but oblivious coworker can tell that there was something going on between you and the resident bad boy. And yet, there’s also a part of you that likes the fact that Wonwoo is so obvious about his feelings. You don’t know what to make of these conflicting emotions that you can’t seem to shake, and seeing Wonwoo (even just the back of him) didn’t help you find the clarity you so desperately need.
“Well, even if he’s not, he definitely wants to fuck you.” Mingyu says with a wink as he brushes past you to check on the pastries he had put in the oven ten minutes ago.
You wonder how he would react if you told him that Wonwoo already has.
Wonwoo thinks you’re the cutest person ever. And the part of you he finds the most cute? The fact that you actually think he’s going to let you avoid him forever. You’re good at it, he’ll give you that (even if he can see right through your every method).
It’s funny that you actually change your off days and regular working hours just to avoid seeing him and throw him off, which it does—at first. He knows you haven’t quit because Josh mentioned seeing you at the bakery when he went to buy the love of his life a cake for her birthday. This is confirmed when he goes to see for himself the next day.
Maybe you don’t realize Wonwoo can see you run to the back through the large glass windows when you hear his motorcycle, but either way he thinks it’s funny. Actually, it’s hilarious because soon enough you were going to give into him like before.
Meanwhile, you feel like a mouse being preyed on by a sly cat—one that’s toying with you before he finally catches you. Avoiding Wonwoo had been easy at first, but now you’re starting to wonder if he had let it seem easy.
“Babydoll.”
You almost drop a tray of croissants when you hear a familiar deep voice calling for you. The way you whip around with a gaping mouth must be hilarious because Wonwoo just smirks at you in that infuriating way that drives you crazy. Your hands tighten around the tray as you snap your mouth closed, trying to contemplate on how to navigate the situation.
With a bit of a mental pep talk, you finally manage to put up that happy to help attitude you usually had with every other customer. The smile you give him feels exaggerated and fake, but it’s the only way you can mask all the emotions you’re feeling.
“What can I get for you?”
That devilish smirk widens as Wonwoo pretends to skim all the delicious pastries in the case before he sets his smoldering eyes back on you. “This all looks good,” he muses quietly, but you can hear him perfectly since it’s only you two. “But I think you’re the only thing that can satisfy my hunger.”
It kills you that his words make you heat up from the inside out. You ignore him and start to put the croissants into the case. The clench of your jaw is tight and bordering on painful, but it’s the only way you can keep your emotions from spilling over for him to see.
Unfortunately, your lack of response doesn’t really faze him. One thing you’ve come to learn about Wonwoo is that he’s never uncomfortable in the silence. You wish you could say the same. You’re nearly squirming by the time you’re done placing the croissants in their designated space because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once.
Finally, you look up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. It’s so intense that you almost want to look away. However, there’s a part of you that loves being under the heat of his stare since you can clearly see the desire he has for you.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“You’ve been gone.” You counter, vaguely aware that you sound like a sulking girlfriend.
Wonwoo realizes this too because he gently coos at you. “Missed me, babydoll?”
Yes. “You wish.”
It’s obvious Wonwoo doesn’t believe you. That stupid smirk of his only seems to get bigger with every passing moment, and you don’t know if you want to kiss it or smack it off his face.
“I missed you.” He tells you honestly, loving how you’re visibly growing flustered with his words.
Resisting him would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so tempting to you and if the feelings he always evoked from you weren’t so strong. Before you can say anything to betray your easily crumbling facade, Mingyu comes out from the back with a tray of small cakes. Wonwoo gives you a once over before stepping away from the case.
“I’ll be back after your shift. Wait for me.”
You don’t wait for him—technically. It’s not waiting since Wonwoo is already outside of the bakery when your shift ends. He’s clad in his leather jacket, dark jeans, and signature combat boots. It’s not fair that he can lean against his bike so casually while looking as good as ever.
Ignoring him would’ve been all too easy, but you can’t when you notice the bruises and cuts on his pretty face. A familiar irritation bubbles in your chest, but annoyingly enough, it’s overpowered by the concern you feel. You react before you can fully think your actions through.
“What the hell!”
Wonwoo’s eyes widen the tiniest bit when you stomp over to him with angry tears in your eyes. You can’t even enjoy his cute shocked face because of the overwhelming concern and anger you feel. All you can do is hit his brawny chest in frustration.
“You—You asshole!” Your voice cracks with raw emotion as you continue to weakly hit his chest. “You said– you promised that you weren’t going to fight anymore—!”
Wonwoo lets you hit him. His chest aches, but not because of your soft blows. The last thing he meant to do was make you cry, and it’s something he wishes to never see again. His large hands come up to cup your face, fingers delicately wiping your tears. “I know I should’ve kept my promise, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t cry anymore.”
You let out a quiet whimper at his tenderness. His eyes are full of so much remorse and concern that it makes any remaining willpower you have left disappear. It feels right to bury yourself in his chest and let yourself be held by him. He caresses your back, and you can’t hate that it actually makes you feel better.
Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back and smack Wonwoo’s beefy chest again. “Asshole.”
“Your asshole.” His haze is tender as he cradles your tearstained cheek in his hand.
You scowl at him, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when he places a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. A sudden desire consumes you when you see Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze. This time you let yourself be driven by your desire and press your lips against his.
It’s easy for him to melt into the kiss. Wonwoo sighs into your mouth as one of his hands comes up to cup your face. His rings feel cool against your warm skin, and you let out a quiet moan when his other hand slips into the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass while pulling you closer to him.
The kiss is slow at first until your hands smooth over Wonwoo’s chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. You part your lips to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. It feels like you got struck by a bolt of electricity the longer his lips are on yours. His desire and hunger are evident in his needy movement, and you absolutely love it.
When you two finally pull away, you’re left breathless. Wonwoo’s thumb gently caresses your cheek as his heart pounds harshly in his chest. “Stay the night with me, babydoll.”
“M’kay.” You breathe out, mind still swimming.
The smile he gives you is so pretty that it makes something inside you burn with ardent desire. You feel like you’re floating on air when Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet that happens to be your favorite color. He looks bashful as he waits for you to accept it, and you wish you could take a picture of his pretty blush.
In spite of all the reasons you have not to take the helmet from him, you still do. And you don’t regret it.
You’ve never allowed yourself to regret the things that you’ve done because life is too short for regrets. But you definitely regret avoiding Wonwoo as long as you have, especially with the way he’s trailing his lips along your legs. Every wet kiss he leaves behind has your heart hammering and your cunt clenching in want.
Finally, Wonwoo gets to your inner thighs. His large hands spread you open with ease, eyes dark when he sees your wet pussy.
“Fuck.” His gaze fixed between your legs as if he's in a trance. “You’re already so wet.”
Your toes curl when his breath ghosts over your cunt. It sends delicious shivers throughout your body, and you have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into his face. But as you’re starting to learn, it seems like Wonwoo knows what you want before you even ask for it.
“You want my mouth, babydoll?”
Wonwoo nearly blows his load when you nod cutely, a needy mewl escaping your lips. “Please.”
He hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, thumbs spreading your folds open for his viewing pleasure. Wonwoo resists his ravenous desire for you long enough to toy with your pretty pussy before he actually tastes it—a luxury he hadn’t gotten to do last time. His rough hands are soon occupied with you, one hand pinching and flicking your sensitive clit while the other gently rubs your slippery folds.
“Fuck, baby.” You whine, biting down on your lower lip. “Feels so good.”
Your cunt is dripping with so much of your arousal that Wonwoo’s fingers are drenched as he slowly rubs circles against your aching bud. It’s throbbing and pulsing in need as his pace grows the tiniest bit quicker. You can’t even try to contain your moans as you stare down at your boyfriend.
Wonwoo has a huge smirk on his pink lips. You’re making such a mess on his fingers, and he just loves it. “You look so fucking cute when your squirm like this, babydoll.”
A needy whimper tumbles past your lips when he presses a gentle kiss to your throbbing clit. It pulses under the attention like it wants his mouth again. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide as he licks the remnants of your arousal off his lips. The addicting taste makes his control snap, and in the next second he smashes his face into your cunt like a starved man.
Your hips start move on their own as Wonwoo groans deeply into your drooling pussy. His mouth latches onto your clit, massaging the nub with his tongue. The movements are skilled and toe-curling, and you already feel like you’re fucked out.
“Wonwoo!” You cry out in absolute pleasure when he slips two fingers inside you.
His long fingers work your cunt open, curling up to rub the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Your mouth is dropped open in a silent min the longer Wonwoo fucks you with his tongue. He captures your juices with his tongue only to slobber them all over you again. Your hands grab ahold of his hair as he keeps moaning into your wet pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine with every one of his movements.
All it takes his his nose bumping against your clit as he licks around his pumping digits for you to come all over his face. Wonwoo groans into your creamy cunt, licking up every drop of your release.
“So fucking messy.” He grunts as his hand spreads your folds and exposes your heat to the cool air. His fingers trail down your cunt, tenderly rubbing along your sensitive lips. “Fuck, just look at that cream."
You can’t contain your needy moan when Wonwoo brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s so fucking hot that you just want him to fuck you until you can’t think. Before you can get him to do exactly that, a heavy weight settles on your soppy cunt. His cock is hot and wet as it slides between your folds.
“You feel so good, angel.” Wonwoo groans as he thrusts forward, coating the underside of his dick with your arousal. “So fucking wet, just for me.”
The mouthwatering sight of your folds splitting open as he slides his cock between them makes him feel like he’s drunk. Maybe he is. Drunk on your pussy, that is. He only gets to enjoy the feeling for a second before you eagerly buck your hips against his.
“Let me ride you.”
It’s a miracle that Wonwoo doesn’t come all over your stomach at the words you moaned so desperately. He’s quick to get into position, leaning against his headboard as you hover above him. You look so eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumbs over them.
Wonwoo’s free hand reaches for your ass. He roughly kneads the skin before slapping it. You moan out in pleasure. Everything is almost too much for you to handle. The sight of him bellow you waiting patiently for you to fuck him like the first time is making your core throb with insatiable desire. His cock rests on his stomach, leaking with precum and waiting for you to sit on it.
The hottest part of it all is how Wonwoo’s looking at you with unadulterated desire and affection—like you’re a living goddess on top of him. Your hands are splayed over his muscular chest, and he just loves the feeling of them smoothing over his hot skin.
His hands move on their own, caressing your hips and mapping out every inch of your body with his rough hands. Wonwoo kisses any part of you he can reach, lips trailing from your neck down to your collarbones. His large hands slip back to your ass to deliver a sharp spank which makes you fall forward. Wonwoo skillfully captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue immediately gliding over your hardened nipple.
“Nonu!” You cry out as your arms hook over his shoulders to keep him close, softly moaning as he switches between your tits, warm tongue swirling around each erect nub.
The cute little nickname makes his cock twitch. Fuck. You were going to drive him completely insane.
He gently nips at your sensitive bud before pulling away to look up at you. “You look so fucking pretty on top of me, babydoll.” He murmurs, forcing himself to stay still as you shift against his leaking tip.
His sweet praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. You mewl as he teasingly circles his cock against your pussy. The insistent nudges from his leaking head are making your head swim with pleasure. You’re so soaked at this point that he can feel your arousal start to stick to his skin.
Finally, you can’t resist any longer and slowly sink down on his cock. Your tight walls stretch wide, welcoming the bulbous head with just a bit of resistance. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’d already forgotten it felt to have such big and thick dick inside you. His cock isn’t even halfway inside yet, and you can nearly feel him in your stomach.
You sit back and slowly circle your hips, throwing your head back with a moan when his twitching tip nudges your walls repeatedly. Wonwoo feels like he’s gone and died to heaven with the filthy show you’re giving him of your soppy cunt. He curses quietly at the sight of your tight cunt clinging to his fat tip, nearly blowing his load at the erotic sight.
“Show me what you can do, pretty girl.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a wanton moan and your hands braced behind you, you slide all the way down. You whimper at the stretch, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Mewls flutter from your lips, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being forced out of your lungs.
Once he’s fully inside you, Wonwoo is sure that he’s never going to feel as good as he does now. His head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him is absolute heaven. You share in his feeling as you moan loudly, completely full and stretched out as he grips your ass to steady you on his dick.
Wonwoo can’t stop looking at the fucked out look on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. You don’t notice how his pupils are blown out with lust at the sight of you impaled on his cock. His heart fluttering in his chest because fuck, you’re like a literal goddess on top of him.
“Shit, babydoll. You gotta move.” He sounds out of breath, almost needy with his plea.
Wonwoo looks so fucked out and pretty that your pussy tightens around him at the hot sight. That's all it takes for you to give him what he wants. You lift your hips before slamming your ass back down. His cock reaches so deep inside you that you throw you head back with a loud cry. It makes you ravenous, and you eagerly repeat your movements until your practically bouncing on his cock.
You lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a bit when your lips meet his neck. As you litter his skin with wet kisses and gentle bites, you feel his cock throb and twitch inside you. It makes you think that you might actually get him to come first this time.
At least, until Wonwoo commits the tender act of pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.
“Fuck, Nonu.” You whimper at the stimulation. “You’re so deep.”
“Missed having you on my cock, babydoll. You look so fucking pretty being split open like this.” His fingers trace your stretched hole before they slap your clit.
You moan wantonly when Wonwoo suddenly thrusts up, going impossibly deeper. That’s when you know he's about to ruin you in the way you’ve been craving. You shove your face into his neck, sucking and biting his skin so he can move you on his cock in the way he wants. Apparently, this isn’t enough for him, though.
Wonwoo grips your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “Need to see your pretty face while I fuck you stupid.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s gripping your ass and grinding you on his cock. His fingertips press into your soft flesh as he lifts you and brings you down his length. You start bouncing to meeting his pumps. Broken mewls contrast with Wonwoo’s groans and mix in the the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping. His abs tighten every time you come back down, thighs flexing beneath your ass.
Your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, and the feeling is quickly driving you insane. The knot in your stomach is coming undone fast, much faster than you want, but you feel too good to stop. Wonwoo isn’t doing much better. His mind is only full of you and the way your hot cunt is gripping his cock. The carnal look in his eye is locked to where you’re connected. He’s mesmerized with strings of arousal connecting his skin to your dripping folds.
“You look so fucking pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock—just like last time. Gonna let me pump your pretty pussy full again, babydoll?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out mindlessly, a delicious ache blooming in your core. “Whatever you want!”
You can’t believe Wonwoo has the audacity to blush like you two aren’t literally fucking like animals. It makes you gush around him, orgasm so close that you can feel it in every inch of your body.
“God, baby. Keep fucking yourself stupid on my dick.” He growls as he fucks up into you harder, needing to see you come undone on his cock.
The leaking tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again until your eyes gloss over like you’re on the brink of tears. Wonwoo will never get enough of that fucked out face of yours, and it drives that insatiable desire in him to fuck you impossibly harder.
It takes only a few more deep thrusts for you to come on his cock with a loud moan. Your body shudders and shakes against him in absolute pleasure. Wonwoo’s movements don't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and straight into overstimulation. But you can’t really care because it feels so fucking good. All you can do is cry out his name until he’s emptying his balls inside you.
“Y/N!” He groans into your ear as he pumps you full of his hot cum, thick ropes filling you to the brim until it’s leaking out and coating his heavy sack.
You’re gently grinding into each other as your mouths meet for a messy kiss. Wonwoo’s still-hard cock keeps twitching inside you, and you can’t help but groan into his mouth at the feeling.
“More.” You plead against his lips. “Want you to keep stuffing me full of your cum.”
“Fuck, angel.” Wonwoo pants out. “You’ll be the death of me.”
But if this was death, he’d gladly embrace it every time.
Wonwoo moves down the bed until his back meets the messy sheets. With his hands secured on your waist and the back of your neck, he pulls you down to his chest and forces you to take every inch of his throbbing cock. At this angle, he feels even thicker. Your mind goes blank as his fat dick spears into your tight hole relentlessly.
Wet noises fill the room, dancing in the air with your wanton cries. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, smearing down to his loaded sack. Wonwoo moans along with you, large hands sliding down your body to grip fistfuls of your ass. You let out a broken gasp when he grinds up and pulls you down, stuffing you to the brim only to do it again and again.
You’re panting and whimpering as his cock sinks in deep, plugging your dripping cunt. Tingles of ecstasy course through your quivering body with ever snap of his hips. You aren’t even moving anymore, it’s all Wonwoo. He’s fucking you on his cock like you're his personal fucktoy. The more you think about it like that, the more turned on you’re getting.
Your hot cunt tightens around his veiny cock. The drag of his veiny length stretching you out makes more of your juices coat his dick and spill down to his heavy balls. Wonwoo shudders when he feels how tight you keep getting. He can feel his own high quickly approaching.
“You gonna come for me again, babydoll? Soak my cock with your cream and make a mess all over me?” Wonwoo changes the angle of his hips as he speaks his lewd words. The tip of his cock slams into the soft spot inside you that makes you scream in pleasure. He keeps pounding into you from below without stopping, and you love every second of it.
“Fucking love your cock.” You babble mindlessly, any and every thought that’s not about the fat cock splitting you open being fucked out of you.
“Sweet little cunt is all mine now.” Wonwoo growls possessively. “Gonna be mine forever, right, baby?”
It’s all too much. His filthy yet sweet words combined with his fierce thrusts make you fall over that edge and into your orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. Your body erupts in flames as you squirt all over Wonwoo’s aching cock. He keeps you locked on his dick, balls slapping against your ass as he continues to pound into your gushing cunt.
“So fucking good.” Wonwoo groans gutturally before his hot cum floods your ruined cunt, painting your stretched out walls and claiming you in every sense of the word.
So much of his cum spills out and trickles down his pulsing cock, and you whimper when Wonwoo fucks it deeper into your pussy. You’re both sweaty and sticky, yet there’s still a burning ache in your core that seems like it can only be soothes by Wonwoo and his big cock.
“Want it again.” You moan into his ear, clenching down on his twitching dick. “Please.”
This is where you learn that the resident bad boy can never tell you no.
You barely process him flipping you over and manhandling you into the position he wants. Wonwoo presses your legs against your chest and start to pound into you with rough thrusts. He’s slow but brutish, slamming against your cervix every time he pushes in. Your cream soaks his thick cock and your inner thighs. It slowly drips down to your ass where his heavy balls slap against the tender skin.
“Fuck, babydoll. I’ll never get enough of this tight little pussy.” He sounds so gone, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.
You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that delicious feeling in your stomach. Wonwoo’s words have you clenching around his dick, and he lets out a deep groan. He keeps moaning out praises about how good you are for him, but it’s hard to focus on his words when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly.
You continuously gush around Wonwoo’s cock on the brink of yet another orgasm as you leave a stain around the base. Your pussy is stretched beyond belief, and it feels so fucking good that’s it’s making you delirious.
“I’m gonna have to stuff this pretty pussy full every day.” Wonwoo moans, loving how your cunt keeps spasming around his throbbing cock. He’s fantasised about this for so long, and now that he’s had you he’s completely addicted to you.
“Fuh-Fuck!” You wail, soaking his cock even more at his promise, leaving it dripping.
Wonwoo’s thrusts grow more powerful and ravenous. The pretty sounds you’re letting out every time he drives in and out of you is driving him insane. It’s not long for the harsh snapping of his hips to finally send you into your climax. This one is more somehow more intense than your previous one. Wonwoo groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock.
Each time Wonwoo strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Making a mess all over my cock.”
“Come inside me.” You beg with a loud moan, mind already so far gone to think about anything else but being fucked full of his hot cum.
Your lewd plea only drives his desire for you. Wonwoo feels his orgasm approaching with every rough thrust. His balls are aching to be emptied again, and he doesn’t hesitate to chase that euphoric feeling. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills, cock twitching and throbbing in your hot cunt.
A huge load of cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the minimal space his cock hasn’t covered. Wonwoo slowly fucks it into you until you’re both whimpering from the overstimulation.
When he pulls out, his cum and your cream slowly leak out of your messy cunt. The fucked out pants you’re letting out are quickly stifled by Wonwoo's lips. You moan into his mouth as he slowly lets go of your legs and hooks them around his hips.
Pulling away, you barely register as he starts to tenderly kiss all over your body. You’re completely sated and too gone to acknowledge your surroundings even as Wonwoo gets up and brings back a warm towel. He gently cleans you up, whispering sweet praises that make you feel a different type of euphoria.
“Hold me, Nonu.” You finally manage to say when you realize he’s done cleaning the both of you up.
His smile is so pretty and precious as he goes to lay with you. The way he cradles you against his chest is comforting, and you know that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo
#svthub#wonwoo smut#svt smut#wonwoo x reader#svt x reader#seventeen smut#wonwoo fanfic#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo fic#svt fic#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#wonwoo imagines
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satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know
cw: suggestive content, mdni
“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.
“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”
you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine.
“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”
“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”
now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things.
he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave.
there’s only one thing he can’t do.
“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids.
_____
“this isn’t funny, shoko!”
“you’re right.”
“thank you—”
“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.”
she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense.
“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”
“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”
“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”
“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”
“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”
“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers.
well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.
he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.”
_____
NOT GOJO
[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes
[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!
[shoko]: me too.
[shoko]: can you send videos?
[nanami]: I would also like to see videos.
[you]: sure. but why the interest?
[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements
[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums.
[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older.
[shoko] yeah that ^
[you]: fine i’ll send videos.
______
the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park.
“i really think—”
“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”
“but if he uses the shadows—”
you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately.
“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.
the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads.
you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor.
“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”
the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces.
“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest.
“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—
“no! i’m taking the video!”
fuck.
satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.
he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.
it can’t be that hard, can it?
“watch and learn, kids.”
he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.
the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—
“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”
sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.
as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.
“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”
“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”
“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission.
“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”
you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”
so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own.
he’ll get the hang of it eventually.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#keeping up with the fushigojos
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on second thought | jww
(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)
pairing: wonwoo x f.reader
genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint
rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni
word count: 6.5k
warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.
authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance.
also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone
Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum.
That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.
“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home.
“No, I ate earlier,” he answers.
“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.
“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says.
“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say.
“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees.
“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.”
This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo?
“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.
“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer.
Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.”
The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure.
“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.
“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.
“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble.
“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.
“Uh, what?” you ask.
“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.”
“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.”
“Why not?” Wonwoo presses.
“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious.
“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks.
“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.
“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.”
There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill.
Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear.
And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.
“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles.
“Pretend, sure,” he echoes.
“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.
“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly.
A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules.
So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells.
Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes.
“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you.
“Funny,” you say with an eye roll.
Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.
“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.
“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.
You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either.
“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything.
It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve.
You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters.
It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out.
He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you.
Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.
Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs.
With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.
“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine.
“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy.
He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before.
“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.
He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal.
“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter.
“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.
You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.
“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel.
“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply.
“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too.
You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now.
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns.
“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back.
Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs.
“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.
“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire.
“I love it when you call me that,” he admits.
With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust.
You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses.
“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg.
“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep.
“Please,” you beg again.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more.
When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over.
Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high.
When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.
“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,” you assure him
“Thank fuck,” he whispers.
His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone.
You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.
“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.
“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.
“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh.
You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.”
“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say.
“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.
You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?”
“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.
“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time.
“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.
“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.
“Next time?” you wonder.
“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says.
It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place.
The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page.
That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around.
He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.
Until it doesn’t.
One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started.
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment.
He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?”
“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear.
“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand.
You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.”
“Of course not,” he says.
Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed.
He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you.
The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning.
That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked.
“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble.
“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan.
“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.
“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out.
“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says.
“I know,” you sigh.
“So, what’s going on?” he asks.
Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night.
None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.
“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.”
“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised.
“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says.
“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.
“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says.
“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.
“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.
“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.
“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.
It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited.
There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird.
“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts.
“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?”
He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?”
“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say.
He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.”
“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.”
“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.
“I just thought…” you start.
“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure.
The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.
Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings.
It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.
“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness.
“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake.
“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep.
“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says.
That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him.
“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.
“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.
“Why should I?” you challenge.
“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.
“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.”
“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”
“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.
“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”
“To avoid me?” you supply.
“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits.
“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.”
“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.
“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say.
“About what?” he asks.
“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately.
You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation.
You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him.
When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized.
“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.
“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous.
“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug.
“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.
That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?”
“I don’t know, a while,” he says.
You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.”
“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.”
“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool.
“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment.
“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.
“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.”
Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”
“Okay,” you agree.
“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.
“Yeah, we’re doing this.”
Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural.
i hope you enjoyed it! 💕
#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo x you#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svt x you#seventeen x you#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svthub#kvanity#ksmutsociety
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Best Laid Plans
Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader
Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end — a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him — but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that
Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation
Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlos’ win? Maybe …
So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas
The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.
How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.
He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her — Y/N Vasseur.
The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.
An idea begins to form in Carlos’ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?
Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. “Y/N, fancy running into you here,” he lies easily. “I didn’t realize you were vacationing at this resort too.”
You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sun’s glare. “Carlos! What a pleasant surprise.” Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlos’ mind. He quickly silences them — this is just collateral damage.
“I was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?” You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.
Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know what, I would love to.”
Stripping off his shirt, he can’t help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself it’s just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.
“So what’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?” Carlos asks once he’s waded in beside you.
You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. “Taking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be … demanding at times.”
That piques Carlos’ interest — to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. “Oh? Do tell, I’m fascinated.”
With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. You’re whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.
“Wow,” he finds himself saying once you’ve finished. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that from you. Not that I’m judging a book by its cover or anything!” He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.
You let out another of those bright laughs. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.”
There’s a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what it’s like to be looked down on and underestimated.
“For what it’s worth, I think what you do is really impressive,” he finds himself saying honestly. “And anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.”
The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. “Why Carlos Sainz, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”
He grins back unrepentantly. “Is it working?”
You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. “Maybe a little.”
The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way he’s not used to from women. It’s exhilarating and unexpected.
In fact, he’s so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down … you’re Fred Vasseur’s daughter.
The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlos’ head. What is he doing? This woman hasn’t done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.
But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.
With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What’s that look for?”
“Just thinking,” he murmurs once he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “About how I could make this vacation even more … memorable.”
His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. “If you’ll allow me?”
For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, “Yes.”
That’s all the permission Carlos needs before he’s crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
The moment your lips meet his, it’s like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.
You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy — everything Carlos didn’t know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the pool’s surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.
When you finally break apart, you’re both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you — hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.
“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.
Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the pool’s tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.
One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.
“You feel so good, cariño,” he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. “So fucking perfect ...”
In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until you’re a limp, sated puddle.
He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.
Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs “Should we take this somewhere more private, princesa?”
You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. “God, yes ... please ...”
The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlos’ cock. He’s fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.
With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.
“You feel that, cariño?” Carlos rumbles darkly. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?”
He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.
“P-please ...” You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. “I need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...”
And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that you’re grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.
“P-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,” Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more … private to continue this?”
You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.
Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. He’s never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort — just a stone’s throw from where you’re leading him, he’ll finally be able to have you all to himself.
The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find — his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open you’re both panting like you’ve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.
The second you’re inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and he’s abruptly reminded of who you are.
“Are you sure about this?” He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. “Because if we do this, I can promise you there’s no going back for me, cariño.”
You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. “I want this, Carlos. I want you.”
That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.
You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until he’s blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, you’re even more stunning like this — hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.
Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princesa,” he rumbles against your overheated skin. “How many times I’ve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...”
The truth is, he hasn’t thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.
“I’ve watched you, you know,” he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...”
You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate he’s managed to make you for him so quickly.
“Is this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?” He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. “Hard and deep and ruthless until you can’t remember anything but my name on your tongue?”
“Yes!” The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.
Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.
With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.
“Last chance, cariño,” he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. “After this, I won’t be able to stop until you’re utterly ruined for anyone else’s touch ...”
The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. “Carlos … Carlos, please!”
Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.
The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. You’re impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape — he’s never felt anything quite like it.
Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if you’ll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.
Once he’s fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length — hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body can’t decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.
“Fuck, cariño ...” The words tear from Carlos’ throat in a ragged groan. “You feel incredible. So perfect for me.”
You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. It’s all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.
Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. He’s never seen anything so erotic in his life.
You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly you’re nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.
“Please, Carlos!” You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. “I need it, I need you to-”
He doesn’t let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.
Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.
“That’s it, princesa,” he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. “Take it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.”
As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.
Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.
“Look at me,” he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.”
You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.
“That’s it, cariño ... fuck, you’re exquisite like this.” His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.
Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.
You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. “Carlos! Oh my god, Carlos, I’m … I can’t ...”
“Come for me, princesa,” Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. “Let me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...”
The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.
If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he won’t last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.
When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.
“No ...” You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. “Carlos, please. Don’t stop ...”
Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more — this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.
He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.
“Tell me what you want, cariño,” he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. “Use your words and tell me.”
For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, “I want … I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...” Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. “Don’t hold back. I need to feel you come too.”
A harsh groan is punched from Carlos’ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.
There’s likely no coming back from it — he’ll ruin you for anyone else’s touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, you’ll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.
For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again — a thin, keening sound of utter desperation — and it’s like the last thread of Carlos’ control snaps completely.
“Hold on tight then, cariño ... because I won’t be able to stop.”
That’s the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesn’t let up from there — turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.
You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like he’s trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.
It’s too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples — drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.
Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.
Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle — this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.
“Could you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?” Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. “You were made just to be split open on my cock ...”
You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.
He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isn’t finished yet — isn’t anywhere close to getting his fill.
“Look at me, cariño,” he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. “I need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...”
His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.
And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.
By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.
When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.
It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world.
Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.
As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.
For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isn’t simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more — something deeper …. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.
He’s in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.
***
Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, he’s unsure of his surroundings — the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what he’s used to waking up in.
Then the previous night’s events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool … the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated … finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.
He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.
You’re tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlos’ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.
He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.
Like this — sleep-rumpled and soft in the morning’s buttery rays — you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlos’ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, you’re somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.
Unconsciously, Carlos’ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried he’s disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.
He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble you’ve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling — a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.
Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.
When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual … cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.
He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist — someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.
Except … Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he can’t put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he can’t seem to walk back from.
Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards — not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.
With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where they’re splayed over his ribs — reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.
“What are you doing to me, princesa?” Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all ...”
Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance — an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that he’s had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesn’t think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.
Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you … you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.
How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.
The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which … is not great, all things considered.
Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, he’ll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided — a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while you’re still tangled up together so prettily.
But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. There’s no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.
Something in Carlos’ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. You’re not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.
“Carlos?” You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. “What’s wrong, mon beau?”
Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply … bask in your presence for a while.
“Nothing’s wrong, princesa,” he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. “I just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, that’s all.”
That small, secret smile he’s rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.
“Well then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.”
Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, you’re rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.
He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way that’s swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlos’ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.
When you break apart at last, you’re both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.
“Don’t think for one second that I’ve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariño,” he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. “You’ve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.”
Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.
“Carlos ...” You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. “What are you saying?”
He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects you’re asking. And there it is — desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.
Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.
“I’m saying,” he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. “That I can’t simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.”
The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You don’t attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlos’ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.
He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didn’t allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.
Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones — you are so much more than any of that.
And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.
***
The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess — drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.
You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.
He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.
The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.
He imagines precisely how you would react — arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...
Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlos’ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.
With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.
“Having fun out here without me, cariño?” He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.
You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. “I’m always having fun when I’m with you, Mr. Race Winner,” you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. “Even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing.”
The words are simple — honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlos’ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, it’s moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.
You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlos’ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?”
He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like that’s the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.
“Nothing to worry about, princesa,” Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. “Just feeling … lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.”
The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlos’ stomach swoop.
“Well, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,” you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlos’ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.
Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in — that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.
Then there are the quieter, more intimate details he’s gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when you’re feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when you’re aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when you’re concentrating intently on something.
Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.
Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesn’t give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.
Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely — savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.
This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.
You’re practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.
“So impatient, cariño,” he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. “You know that’s not what I had in mind for tonight.”
With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. “And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”
A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlos’ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...
He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.
“I thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,” he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. “Just you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.”
You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesn’t realize he’s allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.
With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.”
Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.
He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space — curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like that’s where you were always meant to fit. For Carlos’ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than you’ll ever know.
You spend what could be minutes or hours like that — exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.
The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace — this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.
“Hey,” you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one always saying we should be living in the present?”
He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. “What brings that up all of a sudden?”
You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlos’ spine.
“I’m just wondering what’s got you stuck in your head so often these days,” you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. “We’ve barely been able to share … intimate moments at all the last month or so.”
Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.
“Perhaps I’ve been overtly romantic,” he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. “Missing out on more … physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.”
You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. He’s fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.
“Then maybe we should do something about that right now,” you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlos’ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.
He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger he’s been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.
Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over — salty and sweet and everything he’s been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.
You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlos’ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.
“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. “Don’t hold back with me any longer. Not tonight … need to feel all of you.”
A shudder wracks Carlos’ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows you’re right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully — heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.
Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.
“Is this what you want, princesa?” He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. “For me to finally have my way with you the way we’ve both been craving?”
“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. “God, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.”
The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlos’ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.
“Princesa ...” Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. “No more waiting, no more teasing.”
His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.
“Carlos, mon cœur ...” You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. “Please. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.”
He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.
There’s no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.
Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. He’s utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again — hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.
He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure there’s no doubt in your mind how much he’s craved every inch of you.
“There’s my good girl,” he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. “Fuck … taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariño.”
Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.
Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.
Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.
“That’s it, princesa,” he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex — drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. “Take what’s yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until you’ve got no idea where you end and I begin.”
The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlos’ name, you seize up — inner walls rippling and convulsing like they’re taking him for everything he’s worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.
As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.
That’s when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.
“Ah fuck … just like that, cariño,” he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. “Taking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...”
Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina — just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.
For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.
When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.
“Hi,” you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.
“Hi yourself, princesa,” he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.
When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. He’s drowning and he’s never felt more gloriously unmoored.
“I love you, y’know? Like … down to the depths of my soul,” your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.
The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.
Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?
So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.
“I love you too, princesa,” he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. “With every fiber of my being. You are my everything.”
You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.
And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#carlos sainz#cs55#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x y/n#scuderia ferrari#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz drabble
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WHERE PENGUIN! READER WILL LIVE IN:
Pt5 of Penguin! Reader x Hazbin Hotel
Prompt: The aftermath of the court is where you decided where to live
Note: this will be the final part of the series lol. Sorry if the sections are short, I tried to make it long with the bullet points just being some. 💗
“The court has spoken. The rightful place the reader belongs in, is……” sera say opening her mouth to announce the news.
HELL
Lucifer is fucking happy that sera said that would go with them. Charlie has tears dropping out her eyes as she finally is relived to have you by her side and kingdom. Adam was pissed as he thrown papers on the ground. Lute is screaming mentally as her heart breaks.
Back in hell, every one does a celebration party. You get a bandanna with your name, the scarf wrapped around your neck has the name of Y/N Morningstaryou are officially in the family. Welcome to hell.
Literally you get all the food you love in a week of celebrating before they monitor what you eat 💗
Charlie is such an older sister vibe as she shows you the ropes of being royalty as she gives you an allowance. Which you totally didn’t spend in cookies and cakes. But matter of most is that she even shows you how to run the hotel while you just quack at things from afar. Overall her protective rate is 5/10.
Lucifer may be happy and relived that you can be in hell with him. But he is still worried about your safety in hell as he watches you closely and even has razzle and dazzle to look after you. It’s cute and all for you. But for others, they can tell this man baby’s you so much to the point he even gets you to bed like one. Overall his protective level is 100/10
Vaggie loves teaching you how to use her spear in case the exterminators try to kidnap you. She is always the one who watches you on the playground to make sure you are okay. Her protective rate is 9/10
Husk is the damn grumpy drunk uncle who only has a soft spot for you as you aren’t annoying and is pure. Literally you aren’t a bad kid as you just help clean glasses. PST, he actually bought plastic looking glasses so you won’t cut yourself on accident. Plus he appreciates that you want to help him. It’s just you are so small and he is bigger than you. Overall his protective level is 7.5/10
Angel is like that older brother who knows how to hide bruises. And of course we know why…but like past that imagine you bruised your whole ass knee and you didn’t want anyone to worry for you so you went to angel. He chuckled and took care of it. You are such a cutie that he kisses your head and sends you off. Overall his protective level is 7/10
Alastor loves teaching you about his radio station. He even takes you as a co-host and a regular guest as he makes you quack out a song. 💗 some awesome uncle and nephew/niece moments as he also makes you tea if you can’t sleep. His protective rate is 8.5/10
And the rest of hell, they love you equally as somewhat you bring hope in hell to have them redeemed as they visit the hotel to see you and meet you. Hell, the other deadly sins met you and were in awe at how cute you were. Beelzebub was immediately starstruck as she feeds you some of the best food in hell.
So in the end, you love being in the royal family of the Morningstars. It’s peaceful in the hotel with you around as Angel can now get a lot of days off💗
HEAVEN
Adam is immediately flipping off the two demon royals as he lifts you up in his arms. “SUCK IT BITCHES AHAH!” Adam yells pulling you close to his pudgy body as lute is flipping them off from behind the first man as the two demon royals are sent back in hell.
After exiting court, you are met with getting ice cream with the two angels who were fighting with the demon royals verbally. Adam got you [favorite flavor] ice cream as lute just smiles smugly happy to have you here with them.
Adam has gotten use to you not leaving him like how his other ex-wives did. He won’t admit he feels insecure about you leaving him. But with you now being property of heaven and you living with him personally. He feels like he might actually have a loved one with him. It’s not like romantic since you take form of a gah damn actually penguin. It’s more of a platonically close friendship. He finds you alluring at how sweet you are to others. Even if Adam isn’t. Overall his protective meter is 9.5/10
Lute is still the same ol lute everyone knows. It’s just that she watches you from afar. Keeps tabs on you and where you go. Its like if she’s your personal bodyguard. She always love bombs you in a manipulative way. She just wants you to depend on her. I mean hell, she’s literally crazy at how pure of gold you are in heaven. Her protectiveness level is…200/10😨
Sera is a busy woman, but she keeps tabs on you too. Even sending a angelic guard to make sue you are mentally okay and not unstable of taking you away of your so called “home” down there. But she cares for you endlessly in a mother figure way. her protective meter is 5.5/10
Emily is happy regardless if you went it heaven or hell. This girl literally take you shopping with her as she get you a cute sailor like outfit for your delivery job. She even makes you your own damn basket to give cookies to your regulars with their mail. Overall, this sweet girl’s protective meter 4/10
St. Peter sends you cookies on weekends as it’s the days that you aren’t working as the adorable penguin delivery boy. 💗 St. Peter checks up on you as well as you are just staying home and he comes by just to see if you are liking to live in heaven for years now.
You live with Adam as he and you have some kind of relationship were he wants to look after you. Literally it’s oddly sweet this man has a change of heart kind of. He literally will try to cook only for you to burn out the fire in the kitchen. He’s ordering gah damn take out.
See, me personally you’re still getting stalked a bit from yandere! Lute as she smile smugly seeing you in heaven everyday and replaying the son of bitches face when you got to stay in heaven with them.
The amount of times angels in heaven have gifted you lots of grift baskets for the custody of heaven. It’s crazy as it’s whole bunch of fans just celebrating you staying 💗 it’s sweet but crazy.
Overall you still got your job as a paper delivery person and you get watched 24/7 every day. From afar….😨 but all you know is that you are safe in heaven still missing the people below them.
BOTH
Heaven and hell is shocked, what I mean by that is Lucifer and Adam being shocked. Adam is immediately yelling out profanities at how this is “complete bullshit”. Emily and Charlie did a mutual nod to each other not hating or liking this idea as it seems clear and fair to share you 50/50 like divorce parents.
After court, it was time to hang out with hell only to go heaven for the next day. 😭 honestly, you could stay in hell for a week and go to heaven for another whole week☝🏾😕
Adam gets so salty seeing Lucifer pick you up and take you through the portal to hell. Lute just scowls walking away. Meanwhile Lucifer is still salty as well to share you, he has to be mature as Charlie was just excited to have you the whole week.
HONESTLY IF ITS VALENTINE’S DAY, YOU GET SO MUCH CHOCOLATE AND TEDDY BEARS FROM HEAVEN AND HELL. OMG IMAGINE YOUR BIRTHDAY 😱😨LEGIT A WHOLE CARTOON ASS BIRTHDAY-
You still sleep in Lucifer’s bed when you stay in hell, but there is still a spare room for you. And for heaven you sleep directly in the same room as Adam as he snores holding your chubby and round fluffy body.
Thanks to @gineazu for the idea of this schedule of them sharing reader.
Hell has reader on mondays Wednesday's Friday's and sundays. As heaven has them on tuesdays thursdays and Saturdays like a true ass divorce. But just like I said you could also spend a whole week in hell and another whole week in heaven. And it could repeat.
LMAO JUST IMAGINE THE AWKWARDNESS WITH ADAM HAVING SUNGLASSES WAITING FOR YOU AS LUCIFER IS TEACHING YOU HOW TO CALL HIM IN CASE ADAM TRIES TO “abuse” you 😭😭
You’re literally eating nuggets in the hotel’s lobby until a busted down wall happens as a golden light shines. “Kid, pack ya shit. The shit lord didn’t bring you to me on time.” Says Adam with sunglasses and chewing bubble gum. Lucifer came from the kitchen having lemonade for you only to drop it seeing Adam. “What are YOU doing here!” He exclaims seeing the first man. Adam smirks, “I’m here to collect the bird brain. Duh?” “It’s literally only been 2 days?!” Lucifer retorts.
Yeahh…at first Adam had a problem being clingy towards you and wanting to stay in the blue skies with him.
Honestly it’s funny how Lucifer is the mom who wants to scam the father to make it seem he is abusive as Adam is just a guy trying to be the fun dad. It’s literally tug of war for your affection for crying out loud- 😭
“HAVE YOU SEEN SMILEY?” Is basically the song to describe your relationship between the two places of heaven and hell. It’s so painfully tooth aching and wholesome.
It’s nice spending time with your people in hell and heaven. Like literally it’s cool how you still got your delivery job in hell and heaven at most. Overall you are just happy seeing both of your so proclaimed friends and family. ‼️💗❤️🦆
A/N: I did this because I couldn’t choose lol 💗 hope you guys like this as everyone gets their own happy ending
taglist: @zamadness @ilovelyneysm07 @listenerchan @equkki @ambersison-allejo @froggybich @hah-simp-acc-2 @aria-tempest @chefysawesomeideas @angela075905 @loyx2 @libraryraccoon @indom-eclipse @simpcreator @caffieneaddictt18
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin#hazbin headcanons#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel x platonic!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin x you#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk#hazbin charlie#hazbin lucifer#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel hell#hazbin hotel heaven#hazbin hotel emily#hazbin hotel sera#hazbin hotel x penguin! reader#hazbin hotel x penguin#hazbin hotel x animal#hazbin hotel adam
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