#I kinda wanna name it after song lyrics? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spirit-lanterns · 10 months

Text

IT'S THE ALCOHOL TALKING

synopsis: various hsr women when they're drunk.

featuring: serval, stelle, tingyun, fu xuan, asta, bronya

rating: sfw (anyone can interact)

warnings: fem reader, fluff, crack, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk (everyone is of drinking age). very ooc personalities for the girls as they are drunk. pet names, slight pet play (asta), feral tingyun, established relationships.

art credits: bloom into you

SERVAL

“And this so— (hic) is dedicated to my wonderful, beautiful, adorable, most bestest and kindest girlfriend ever—”

When Serval gets drunk, she sings. But the way she sings is less in a badass way and more in a “she took too many shots” kinda way, because your girlfriend was currently doing drunk karaoke at the bar with everyone cheering and shouting. Her body going through a whole workout plan as she was putting her heart and soul into this performance.

You knew you should stop her before she got hurt, but how could you when she was just so cute and screaming her love for you. “Yeahhhhh everyone scream for my girlfriend! She’s the best!” Serval would yell, accidentally causing the mic to screech but not caring because even in her less sober state, she still loved you unconditionally.

“Oh Aeons…” you laughed into your hand and blushed when the rockstar winked in your direction. Yelling the lyrics of some dumb love song while swaying back and forth with the mic. “You’re doing great, sweetie!”

Serval smiled broadly at your shout and raised her arms in the air, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Wooooo!”

Oh. Oh no…

And then Serval body slammed onto a table. A loud crash echoed throughout the bar as everyone stopped shouting while you ran over to check if she was okay.

“Serval? Serval!”

Your girlfriend swayed for a bit as she slowly looked up at you in a daze. Her body was still getting used to the crash and the alcohol, but even then, she looked up at you and gave you a lopsided grin.

“Oh…you’re pretty. But I have a girlfriend.” she murmured, giggling to herself while gently pushing your hand away.

“I am your girlfriend, silly.” You chuckle, gently lifting her up and brushing her hair back to make sure she wasn’t bruised. “Are you okay, baby?”

Drunk Serval paused, an even deeper blush growing on her face as she didn’t respond.

“…Oh.”

She seemed in awe at how she actually had a girlfriend, and you giggled before lifting her up to her feet. “Come on silly, let’s get you home. You drank too much.”

When you kissed her cheek, Serval blushed even more and looked at you with wide eyes. Seemingly falling in love with you all over again…

STELLE

“Baby…”

Stelle would cling to you needily and look up at you with big puppy dog-like eyes. Whimpering as she begged you to let her do the one thing she loved doing the most.

Dumpster diving.

“No Stelle, you just took a shower.” You hummed, tapping your girlfriend’s cheek and taking another sip of alcohol. “Besides, I let you dumpster dive earlier today. You emptied out three whole trash cans before we came out here.”

Stelle whined and looked over at the dumpster outside the bar. After having way too many sips of alcohol with you, Stelle began feeling the side effects as every dumpster and trash can she saw looked like a playground. That, and she started getting more and more clingy with you, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck by the bar.

“Please…” she mumbled, practically smothering her body against you like a giant teddy bear. “I want…nnh…wanna jump in…”

Her speech was getting a little slurred and you sighed as you realized your precious Stelle was getting drunk, meaning you’d have to leave sooner or later anyways.

“…One. Dumpster.” You say with a sigh.

Stelle’s eyes lit up and she immediately started kissing your cheek. Usually Stelle would be too shy to do PDA with you in crowded areas, but she was just too drunk and too happy to care. “Thank you!” She mumbled against your cheek, giving it an affectionate little nibble before running off to dive headfirst into the trash.

You chuckled at the sight and made sure to keep watch so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Your girlfriend having a blast as she stumbles around in the dumpster pulling out various items she found interesting.

After a few minutes of dumpster diving, your girlfriend tumbled out of the bin with trash sticking to her hair. “Oof!” Despite that however, she excitedly ran up to you and hugged you. “Baby look, look. I found a new blender…!”

You tried to keep your laughter in as she held up a blender that was not only broken, but was missing its blades. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was useless, so you just patted her head and praised her. “Good job, baby. You did so well.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, nuzzling you as the effects of alcohol started taking over again and making her clingy. “Can we go home now? I want to add this to my collection…”

Before you could even respond, Stelle ends up slumping against your arms and sleepily kissing your neck. Heat building up in your face as Stelle was never this affectionate with you in public…

“Pfft, okay.” You chuckle, patting your girlfriend on the head, “Let's go home.”

TINGYUN

“Off! Back off!”

Tingyun hissed at yet another stray cat while her tail was raised high in the air. The most unholiest of feral fox sounds emitting from your girlfriend as she screamed at any animal that even so much as dared look at you.

“Tingyun dear, I think that’s enough soju for now…” you gently pulled the glass away from her and watched as she glared holes into the poor dog passing by on the street. Her teeth poked out from between her lips like she was getting ready to attack, nails gripping the hardwood table before you calmed her down with a hug.

“Tingyun, I’m right here.” you hummed into her ear, planting a comforting kiss on her cheek. “I’m not in any danger.”

“Yes, because I am protecting you…!” Tingyun slurred, her tail swaying back and forth before standing upright at the sight of a bird. “Away! Shoo! Shoo!”

Tingyun was definitely one of the most unique types of drunks you’d ever have the pleasure of seeing, as she would get awfully protective of you whenever there were animals present. It was like the foxian side of her had taken over once alcohol entered her system, and while it was entertaining, you did worry for Tingyun’s reputation…

“Pfft, alright dear. Thank you for protecting me from the scary bird,” you cupped her face and pulled her towards you, giggling at the sight of her scrunched up and pouty face. “You’re so brave. I am just simply awestruck at what an amazing girlfriend you are.”

You kiss the top of her nose and Tingyun’s face starts going pink, her tail slowly wagging in praise as she stares lovingly at your eyes.

“I love you…” she purrs out, her drunk-dazed eyes going half lidded like a cat.

“I love you too.” You giggle, cupping her face as you lean in to kiss her fully this time. Closing your eyes and ready to claim her lips when—

HISSSSS

Not again!

You grabbed Tingyun’s face before she could get up and pulled her down towards you. “Oh no you don’t, we are going home.” You quickly kiss her on the lips and distract her long enough to drag her away from the bar. Your foxian girlfriend whining and trying her best to squirm out of your grasp but to no avail.

“Let me go! Baby, let me go!”

She nibbled on your arm as you dragged her away and you sighed, patting her fluffy ears while taking her drunk ass all the way home.

FU XUAN

“Yeah that’s right, she’s (hic) mine…”

Fu Xuan was currently sitting on your lap and glaring at everyone like a feisty kitty who wouldn’t let go of a toy. She had her brows furrowed and tensed in an angry way while she gripped your shoulders to show ownership, her body swaying in a way that indicated to you that your girlfriend was getting drunk.

“Oh, Fu Xuan…” you chuckled, feeling her forehead to see if she was getting sweaty. “Are you getting tipsy?”

“Of course not. I’m (hic) perfectly sober, my love.”

You raised a brow and tried to hide the smirk growing on your face. My love? Since when did Fu Xuan get so affectionate? It was almost like she was lying straight to your face…

“Are you?” You teased, holding her tightly by the waist. “You’re hiccuping, little bunny…”

“I just need more water!” She quickly spat out, before taking another shot of soju which she thought was water. “Nngh! Why is water so bitter?”

“That’s soju, love.” You chuckled, pulling the shot glass away from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, why don’t we go home?” You pat Fu Xuan’s head and giggle when she starts to pout. “I don’t want to move…” she mumbles, plopping her head into your boobs. “Darling feels good…”

Your heart speeds up when she says this and you can’t help but hold in a squeal. How cute, perhaps drunk Fu Xuan can stay for a little while longer—

No, you shouldn’t. As her girlfriend, the right thing to do is to take her home and take care of her. You sigh and gently hoist her up in your arms, Fu Xuan panicking for a moment as she wraps her legs around your waist.

“Wha— darling the floor is falling—”

“I’m just standing up.”

She immediately clings to your neck and holds on to you tightly, slowly closing her eyes as she feels herself getting nauseous. “Don’t drop me. You hear?”

“Yes darling, I hear.” You chuckle, keeping your arms firmly under her thighs while you begin carrying her out of the bar. “Try not to look up too much, we don’t want you getting dizzy and throwing up on my back.”

Fu Xuan gives you a hissy glare and just blushes before hugging you close. “I won’t throw up…I never throw up…”

She begins grumbling to herself and you smile at the sight. Patting the back of her head while the two of you head home together.

ASTA

“Awe Peppy you’re so cute! Who’s a good boy? Oh who’s my good boy?”

Asta cooed and drunkenly squished your cheeks together while calling you Peppy and patting your head. You, her girlfriend. Her loving and doting girlfriend who was very much human and very much not a dog.

“Asta—” you chuckled, “I’m not Peppy.”

“My Peppy is so big and strong…!” Asta grinned, rubbing your cheeks together while peppering your face in sweet, gentle kisses. “The sweetest and cutest canine ever oh yes you are…”

You rolled your eyes at how silly your girlfriend was being and just went along with it. Deciding to tease her a bit by playing along with her little charade.

“Woof.”

Asta squealed and kissed your face even more, taking another swig of her alcoholic beverage while scratching underneath your chin. “Ohhh if only your other mommy could see you now…” Asta sighed, unaware that her girlfriend was literally right there. “Hm, perhaps I should send her a video.”

Asta whipped out her phone and began recording you while still believing you were Peppy. “Okay Peppy! Let’s send mommy a little video to show her how cute you are being. Come on, say hi to mommy!”

“…Woof.”

You couldn’t help but smile when Asta got so excited, patting your head in praise while going “good boy…!” Into the camera. Oh how embarrassed she will be once she finds the video in her camera roll the next morning, you couldn’t wait.

After a few more minutes of playing the little dog shenanigans with your girlfriend, you finally decided that it was getting late and Asta definitely needed to head back to bed.

“Sigh, okay Asta. I think it’s time we head back home, hm?” You chuckle, finally breaking out of your Peppy act charade. “You’ve had quite a few drinks already…”

Asta tilted her head when she saw you getting up to leave, and her mind instantly went to Peppy once more.

“Oh? Does Peppy want to go home now?” Asta hums, smiling and taking your hand. “Don’t forget your leash!”

Wait, what?

And then out of nowhere she whips out a leash and clips the collar to your neck, surprising you as you had no idea that Asta carried around a leash at all times.

“Come on boy! Let’s go home to mommy!”

She gave the leash a little tug and you sighed with no choice but to follow her. Asta skipping happily beside you with you chuckling beside her in return.

BRONYA

“…”

You were getting worried for your girlfriend as she had been staring at the wall in silence for the past six or so minutes. No pressure, Bronya was usually quiet when invited to bars like this one, but she never was this quiet and it was starting to worry you a little.

“…Bronya?”

You poke her cheek.

“Bronya?”

She blinks and slowly turns to you, eyes wide like a cat who got into some catnip as she seemed to be lost in another world.

“There is a train that can travel through universes.”

Ah, so it’s one of those nights. The kind of nights where Bronya would get lost in the dark abyss of her mind and say the most random, deep things that would have her questioning her sanity by the time you pull her out of the bar.

“Mhm, the Astral Express is capable of doing that.” You chuckle, trying to downplay how deep her thoughts really were. “Uhm…baby?”

Bronya was still staring in silence as she was now looking at the ice cubes melting in her drink. She usually got like this whenever she was sleep deprived or blanking out, but today it was especially prominent as Bronya took one too many sips of her beverage whilst sitting at the bar with you.

“Darling, do you think other universes could come to Belobog and fix our Fragmentum problem?” Bronya said while spacing out, the gears in her mind rolling as she slowly took another sip of her drink. “Aeons, we should’ve told the Astral Express crew to bring back some people. Perhaps the people at the Herta Space Station could help us. Or— I believe they are people…”

Bronya paused again and her eyes got wide.

“Darling…do aliens exist? Are the people at the Herta Space Station actually people?”

She gasped and suddenly turned to face you.

“The Astral Express crew. Do they count as aliens too?!”

You quickly shut her up with a kiss before she could get too deep in her alien vs human conspiracies. Your girlfriend squeaking and blushing before finally calming down in your hold.

“Bronya, sweetie. It’s very late, and as cute as you are rambling about aliens and conspiracy theories, I think it’s time we head back home.” You slowly pulled the drink away from her and helped her stand up from her seat. “Come on, you can borrow my coat. It’s cold out.”

Bronya flushed when you wrapped your coat around her while the two of you began walking back home. The Supreme Guardian leaning against your shoulder affectionately as a comfortable silence falls between you.

“…Do penguins have knees?”

“Oh Aeons.”

#serval x reader #serval x you #stelle x reader #stelle x you #tingyun x reader #tingyun x you #fu xuan x reader #fu xuan x you #asta x reader #asta x you #bronya x reader #bronya x you #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr women x reader #star rail women x reader

1K notes · View notes

belovedmusings · 7 months

Text

It’s just nerves.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Part one of the ‘Two + One’ story. Click for story masterlist.

Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and you’ve been together for a year. His previous band broke up and he’s been looking to join a new one ever since, so when he has an audition with a local up and coming one, you accompany him to give him support. That’s where you meet the band’s Bassist, Suguru Geto. The mutual attraction is immediate—but you love your boyfriend, and you resolve to keep your desires for Suguru suppressed, even as Choso is accepted into the band. The question is, can Suguru stay away from you?

Relevant tags: love triangle, sexual tension, slow burn, thoughts of infidelity, guilt, car sex, semi-public sex, accidental voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, PWP/Porn With Plot, shy and nervous Choso, Choso is a sweetheart as always, Suguru is a quiet yet confident flirt, Suguru has piercings and tattoos, you are addressed without the usage of “y/n”, AFAB reader with minimal usage of gendered language, reader has no defining characteristics for realism & inclusivity

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: You Right (Doja Cat, The Weeknd), nasty (Ariana Grande), West Coast (Lana Del Rey)

A/N: okay, hear me out. these two are an alt boy duo that i would not mind being tag-teamed by so…here tf we go. This was gonna be a one shot but I live for drama so there’ll be multiple parts.

Read below the cut:

Choso’s leg won’t stop bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as you drive towards the location of his audition.

He’s been looking for his place in a new band ever since his previous one broke up a few months ago, and he’d seen that the city’s most popular up-and-coming band Curse Manipulation posted an ad in need of a guitarist on their Instagram. The two of you like some of their music though you aren’t overly familiar with the band, so he figured it would be a no-brainer to audition.

You know he’s going to be accepted. Choso is an amazing guitarist, and he writes beautiful lyrics, too. Not to mention the haunting voice he can sing with.

You have complete faith in your boyfriend, and he is very aware of your support, and yet he’s still an endearing ball of nerves beside you.

“Hey,” you say softly, placing a hand on his thigh as you reach a red stoplight, easing onto the brake. You give him a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna do great, babe. I know it.”

He smiles half-convincingly at you, which in him is really just a twitch of the corner of his lips, and you can’t help but reach up and lovingly cup his chin between your thumb and index.

“I’ll be right there with you. So you don’t need to worry.”

He sighs, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze as the light turns green, allowing you to continue on your drive.

“Thanks,” his voice is quiet. “I just…really do like their sound. The more I think of it, the more I can see myself playing with them. I just hope they agree.”

“They will,” you say surely. “After it’s over, wanna get some McDonald’s? I think there’s a McFlurry with your name on it.”

He chuckles softly and nods. “Sure. That sounds good.”

You flash a grin as you turn onto the next street, entering a residential area with houses nicer than you were expecting. They aren’t mansions, but as you drive through, they’re definitely nicer than yours and Choso’s humble apartment.

“Huh. Didn’t know they made this much money already,” You think aloud, and he shifts beside you, also looking out of the window.

“I read about them a little,” Choso tells you, “Their bassist is a songwriter that’s pretty well-known in alternative music, apparently.”

“Yeah?” You ask, impressed. “So this guy’s a big shot?”

“Kinda,” Choso laughs breathily. “Honestly, I think that’s why I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous that he’s a professional? A little intimidated?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Could be,” he admits. “I mean, I know that I’m a good player, so that’s not it entirely. It’s just that if I do get put in the band, things’ll change. They’re gaining popularity, and with the experience he has, the band’s definitely going to get somewhere.”

You hum. “That sounds great. You’ve always wanted to do this as a career—and your stuff deserves to be heard, baby. Maybe you’re more excited than nervous.”

“Could be,” he shrugs, “It’s just a lot.”

“That’s understandable,” you reply, “It’s okay to be nervous. Auditions are scary as hell. But I’m telling you, it’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna get in there, you’re gonna play and blow them away, then we’ll get ourselves some delicious fast food and relax at home.”

He smiles softly at you, and you return it before looking back out of the windshield, seeing your destination approaching. You slow to a stop on the curb at the side of the house, shifting the car into park.

“All right,” You say. “We’re here. Ready?”

He takes a breath and nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

—-

A tall, pale man in a white muscle tank-top and baggy sweats greets the two of you at the door with a smile.

“Hi, you must be Choso,” He shakes hands with your boyfriend, “Suguru said you’d be coming. I’m Larue, the band’s drummer.”

“Hey,” greets Choso with his trademark small-smile, “I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Who’s this beauty you brought with you?” Larue asks, directing his attention to you.

You shake hands with Larue as you introduce yourself as Choso's significant other.

“Hi,” you greet, giving him your name. “I hope it’s okay I’m here.”

“Oh, of course,” Larue insists. “Come on in. The studio’s down the hall. Just leave your shoes by the door.”

He lets you two into the house, allowing you a chance to look around while you remove your shoes. It looks rather modern and minimal as a structure but the furniture has an eclectic, almost gothic feel to it, green plants livening up the space. It smells pleasant as well—like fresh juniper.

“This way,” Larue gestures to follow him, so you and your boyfriend do, your hand slipping into Choso’s to offer him comfort. He gives your hand a little pulse and you do one in reply as Larue leads you down the hallway, stopping at the door at the end. “Here we are.”

He pushes it open and enters, calling out to the occupants in the room. “Choso’s here for his audition!”

Choso enters first and you follow, entering the cozy studio, lit warmly with lamps, the floor covered in patchwork rugs, a sofa on one end across from a mixing board, and behind that, glass panes that lead to the sound booth, a room that houses the band’s instruments and equipment. Honestly, you’re impressed—you had no clue this band was so serious about their music. It makes your chest swirl with pride. This is the perfect chance for Choso’s talent to finally be recognized.

“Hey there, it’s nice to meet you in person,” a voice pulls you out of your appraisal and back towards the mixing board, where a man sits in a chair, smiling at your boyfriend. As soon as you look at him, his eyes meet yours, and you swear a little shock of electricity runs through you at that exact moment. His eyes flash with something indistinguishable. “I’m Suguru Geto. Bassist and frontman.”

Oh. He’s the singer, too? The bassist? That’s a little unusual, but it’s cool. He’s cool. He has gauges that are framed by long, dark hair, placid and gentle dark eyes, a pretty nose, smooth-looking lips with strong cheekbones and a sharp jawline to match. You can’t ignore the piercings he has on his face, one over his left eyebrow, thin silver hoops adorning his bottom lip in snake bites. Tattoos peak up from his collarbone under his black crew neck, and you trace your gaze down to his hands, fingers free of tattoos but the back of his hands themselves inked up, chunky silver rings making up for the empty room on his dexterous digits instead.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s gorgeous.

His eyes don’t leave you as he says, “who is this angel you brought with you?”

Choso’s hand on yours tightens, bringing you back to yourself. You manage a smile, trying to ignore your racing heart. You stutter as you answer him, cementing yourself as Choso's.

When you tell Suguru your name, and he repeats it, a smile stretches across his lips. “It’s very nice to meet you. Please, make yourself comfortable. Ah, and this is Miguel, our keyboards.”

He gestures to the man leaning against the wall in sunglasses, gold hoops handing from his ears. He smiles and waves. “Hey.”

“Hi,” replies Choso, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Choso, you wanna set up with the amp over there?” Suguru points to the wall near the couch, and your boyfriend nods.

“Yeah, sure.”

You smile at him again, rubbing his arm gently before moving over to the sofa to sit beside Larue on the opposite end. Miguel takes a seat in the chair beside him as Choso sets about getting his guitar from its case, your eyes gravitating back towards the black hole in the room sitting at the mixing board.

You find his calculating eyes already on you, and instead of looking away at being caught, the corner of his mouth turns up. It makes you feel warm all over.

“So,” Larue speaks, cutting through the silence. “How long have you been playing, Choso?”

“I taught myself when I was thirteen,” He answers, taking the chord plugged into the amp and pushing the other end into his guitar. “I joined my band when I was fifteen, but it split because the others wanted to do their own things.”

“Ah,” Miguel chimes in, “That sucks. Everybody’s gotta be on the same page.”

“Yeah, but I really liked being in a band, so hopefully this goes well,” Choso smiles softly, standing up to sling the guitar strap over his shoulder. He checks to make sure the volume on the amp is down before switching it on, experimentally strumming at a few strings until the volume is at a good level.

“All set?” Asks Suguru, and Choso nods.

“Yeah. I really like ‘Love to the Strong’ so I’ll do that one.”

That was one of your favorites of Curse Manipulator. You and Choso listen to it a lot, and you’ve heard him play it before. He was able to figure it out just by listening, once again putting you in awe of him. You know he has this in the bag.

His black-painted nails form the first chord and he starts strumming, effortlessly switching to the next one and the next, starting to sing along like it’s second nature. You watch him with shimmering eyes. Whenever he plays, you can’t help but see him for the star he truly is. Everything about him is just so unique, so special. What had drawn you to him was his appearance, how unapologetically he expresses himself in what he wears, the spiky style he wears his hair up in, the tattoo across the bridge of his nose, the heavy eyeliner around his eyes…you even think about the tattoo of your name he’d gotten over his heart for your birthday in beautiful black lettering, one of many presents to you that day, and your heart flutters.

Wanting to read the room to see how the others are reacting, you look at Miguel first. He’s nodding his head along, brow furrowed with a smile on his lips. Good. He’s enjoying it. You look at Larue next, who is tapping along to the beat with his hand on his thigh quietly, dividing it even further with his foot.

Last, your eyes move to Suguru, who is moving in time with Choso’s playing, nodding with his chin in his hand. He seems to feel your eyes on his, because he meets your gaze in the next moment. That smirk finds its way on his face again, playful, and you feel your heart hammer hard against your rib cage involuntarily. Without looking away from you, he lets his index finger rest between his lips, tongue pushing against it just so you see the black ball of jewelry at the center of it.

Fuck. A tongue piercing.

A deluge of very lewd, very intrusive thoughts slam into you without your permission. What would his snake bites and tongue piercing feel like if you kissed him? Or if he tried sucking a hickey into your neck? How would his mouth feel around one of your nipples? Or, shit, how would it feel eating you out? Does he know how to use that little bead to his advantage? Would he use it to make you fall apart?

The song finishes and Larue’s enthusiastic cheers yank you from your wanton musings, dragging your eyes from Suguru’s poetic face back to your boyfriend.

Choso smiles at you, eyes searching for approval, for assurance that he did well, and you nod without thinking, a smile spreading over your face as you push the thoughts of Suguru down. You can compartmentalize them later—right now, you need to be a supportive partner. Relief washes over his face.

“That was great,” Suguru says, all business again, “I didn’t know you could sing. Would you be interested in doing toplines and backing vocals also?"

Choso nods. “Yeah, that sounds great. I uh, I write too. If you ever wanted to collaborate.”

“He’s really good,” you add, hoping the blush you feel when Suguru’s gaze finds yours again isn’t noticeable. He smiles at you and it makes you so warm, so nervous.

“That’s great,” He says, glancing back at your boyfriend. “Choso, I know it was a short audition, but I think we can all agree that you’re exactly what we’re looking for.”

You see Choso’s face light up, nuanced to most but so obvious to you, and you grin brightly. You knew it.

“Really?”

“Yep,” Miguel voices his agreement. “Welcome to the band.”

“Welcome!” is Larue’s input.

Suguru flits his eyes to you again. “Just what I’ve been looking for.”

Choso doesn’t see where he’s looking though, because he’s smiling at you, but you do see it, and you feel all sorts of emotions.

Suguru wants you. He’s made it obvious enough already, and that fact plays with your sanity levels a disturbing amount. You have Choso. You love Choso. You see yourself staying with him forever, because he makes you happy, and he makes you feel safe and taken care of. You trust him with your life and he’s never done anything to even waver that trust. You have never looked at another man like this the entire time you’ve been with Choso, either.

So why now all of a sudden is a simple glance from Suguru threatening to put you on your knees? What is going on with you?

“Thank you guys,” Choso speaks, oblivious to the turmoil inside of your head, “I’ll do my best.”

Suguru stands up and pats his shoulder. Oh fuck. He’s tall, shoulders wide—he’s intimidating. He looks like he could toss you around like a pillow. Choso’s build is nothing to sneeze at, but Suguru is just…huge. You silently beg for any god listening to take pity on you and force you to calm down.

“Come on, let’s all relax in the living room with some tea and get to know everyone better,” Suguru suggests, looking at you, “How does that sound?”

You have half a mind to run out of the house right now to prevent yourself from doing something stupid like jumping Suguru’s bones on the spot. Instead, you force a smile on your face.

“Sounds good.”

It’s an hour of soft torture on Suguru’s couch. You’re sandwiched between Choso and the arm of the blue velvet sofa, Larue on his other side. Miguel sits in a matching chair off to the right, and in the other one, directly to your left sits Suguru.

It’s obscene the way his legs are spread out, open like he has a third one in the middle and he needs room for it, and that thought keeps repeating in your head, contributing to the worst hurricane that’s ever ravished the shores of your mind.

His arms are no better, elbows perched on either of the chair’s arms, pelvis forward as he slinks lazily. He’d made tea for everyone when you went into the living room and when he handed you your mug, his fingertips brushed yours and it made you feel like a shy teenager with a crush.

You try really hard not to stare at him but your eyes keep gravitating. He’s leading the conversation, and a fair amount of questions have to do with you. You have no choice but to look at him. And fuck, you don’t mind, he’s sentient art. It should be punishable by law how sinfully his pierced lips wrap around the mug to sip at the tea. At one point while you’re talking about what you do for a living, Choso’s watching you as you talk. Since his eyes aren’t on Suguru, it gives the man a free-pass to test your patience. A drop of tea accidentally slides down the side of his mouth and he flicks his tongue out to lick it, stud glinting at you, and you fucking feel yourself start to get wet.

You tear your eyes away from him after stuttering, finishing your sentence and lifting the cup to your lips to give yourself something else to focus on.

Whenever he looks at you, you can just feel it. You feel it like when you stand too close to fire, heat just threatening to burn your skin, and you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to get fucked.

Wow, you think, real nice. You’re disappointed in yourself. You just met this man and he has this much control over your body? He hasn’t even really touched you.

Choso didn’t even have this effect on you. It was a pair assignment in a class you two had together that started it. He was quiet and frankly looked bored most of the time. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, or to ask you something about your assignments. When you were told you had to work with each other for the final, you two grew closer over meetings at cafes while you worked. You remember the first time you made him laugh. It was music to your ears, and it made your heart flutter. That’s when you started having feelings for him.

Everything he did after that was endearing. You started noticing that he would ask you more questions than necessary just to talk with you, you noticed he’d find reasons to prolong your meetings when you worked together, and he’d even pay for the food or drinks you’d order while working. He liked you, and you liked him back, and he was just so pure in his intentions, you fell even harder.

The night before the final was due, you were over at his place to practice. You’d been there a few times, as he’d been at yours too, and after polishing the project, you decided you two needed a break. You saw his guitar sitting against the wall and asked him to play something. He was hesitant, but ultimately couldn’t deny you, so he sat across from you and started strumming and singing a song you’d never heard before.

It was beautiful. The lyrics would put Hozier to shame. You suspected it was an original, too. You were probably biased, but hell, at that moment you knew he was someone you couldn’t let go of.

When he finished, he confirmed that he’d written it himself. You told him whoever he wrote it about was really lucky, and that if it was you, you’d fall in love with him immediately.

That was you opening the door, and he walked through it with earnest eyes and a hopeful smile.

He’s been your boyfriend since, and he’s made you so happy.

Remembering how you met Choso helps a lot to mitigate the damage Suguru is doing to your psyche, and to keep yourself strong, you don’t look at Suguru again. You fix your eyes on the mug, and a little after the tea is finished, you and Choso decide to go home.

Suguru sees you out after Larue takes care of your mugs, Miguel bidding you a farewell before he makes his way back to the studio. You get your shoes back on, hearing Choso express his gratitude again and agree to return tomorrow so that they can start rehearsing for their next gig.

“It was really nice to meet you.”

Suguru’s eyes are suddenly on yours again and it’s as if that flame that had been reduced to a steady, barely noticeable simmer roars back to life on high. He really is so fucking, damningly pretty.

“You too,” you manage with what you hope is a convincingly easy smile. He holds his palm out to shake hands, and your heart jumps in your ribcage. You fear touching him might rouse a beast within you that you previously had no knowledge of.

Out of courtesy and the obligation to uphold social cues, you lay your hand in his. His palm is warm. His fingers feel rough and firm, no doubt hardened due to his years playing bass. His skin looks nice against yours, you think intelligently, and before he lets go, he gives your hand a strong squeeze. Had you been any less of a person you would have buckled with your newly weakened knees. He has a strong grip.

What on you would he grab like that? Your thigh? Your ass? Your hips? Fuck, your neck?

Your smile tapers at the sheer indecency of your thoughts as he lets go, and you absentmindedly smile at him to try and save face, turning to follow your boyfriend out of the house and down the driveway.

“Get home safely!” Suguru calls behind you, and you hear Choso reply in kind. You can’t muster a response. Your whole body is buzzing. It feels like there are two wolves literally fighting for dominance inside of you. One of them is urging you to go home, to calm the hell down and maybe take out all of your newfound frustration on Choso.

The other one, however, is clawing at your back, trying to drag you back towards Suguru so that you can jump him and fuck him right in the front room of his house.

Obscene. Filthy. You need to get out of here. Who are you?

You make it to the car, but after Choso puts his guitar in the backseat, you hesitate before the driver’s seat.

“Babe?” You ask, and he looks over at you.

“Yeah?”

“Can you drive?”

“Of course,” he answers easily, moving around to meet you at the driver’s side of the car. You hand him the keys, but refuse to move. He tilts his head to the side. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, unsure of who you’re trying to convince. You’re so torn right now. You feel so guilty for looking at another man the way you did tonight, but you’re also still so fucking horny and your angel of a boyfriend is standing right in front of you.

You decide to make a very lust-induced decision.

“Choso?”

“Yeah?” He puts his hand on your shoulder in concern. “What is it?”

He’s so fucking sweet. It warms your heart but you need something more, something crazy.

“I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes widen, and you can practically hear his heart stutter. He blinks, face reddening. “Well…when we get home, we can—”

“Right here, Choso.”

Another blink. He has no idea where this is coming from—you’ve never acted like this. Sex stays at home, in private.

“…right here? Right now?” He asks, looking around. It’s dark out now, the neighborhood lit up dimly by streetlights staggered up and down the sidewalks. “Outside?”

“In the car,” you say. That’s private enough, right? It should be. He swallows thickly.

“Are…are you sure? What if we get caught?”

You just want it so badly right now. You stretch the truth to get what you desire.

“I’m just so proud of you,” you say, heart feeling heavy. “You did so well today—you deserve it, baby.”

He smiles bashfully at the praise, scratching behind his neck. “I only did because you were here…I can wait until we get back. Don’t worry.”

It’s not working. God damn it.

You make a last-ditch effort.

“I know you can,” you say, getting in his space and touching his chest. Lowly, you add, “But I don’t think I can.”

His dark eyes widen again, an unsure smile twitching at his lips. “You want me that bad?”

It’s starting to work. “Yeah. Please, babe? Unless it makes you uncomfortable…”

“No,” he quickly shakes his head, “Let’s do it. Where do we…?”

You spring into action.

Your hand goes for the lever on the side of the driver’s seat, pulling it and reclining it all the way back.

“Sit, baby. I’ll ride you.”

He sucks in a breath and does as told, getting in the car and watching as you follow, shutting and locking the door behind yourself.

You straddle his legs and kiss him without a moment to waste, threading your hands in his hair. He reciprocates easily, sighing when he feels you pull the hair ties out to let his dark brown locks fall free. His hands find your waist as you start grinding on him to get him hard, relishing in the soft noises it starts to pull from him within minutes.

You think for a moment that this is crazy. You’re actually going to fuck Choso in a car. It is a little dangerous, but that excites you. You’re just so fucking turned on because of that infuriatingly gorgeous bassist…

Choso moans when you grind harder, his hand slipping up the leg of the denim shorts you’re wearing and past your underwear, finding you to be drenched.

“You really did want this,” he laughs breathily, and you feel another pang of guilt. He’s feeling the result of miniscule attention from Suguru. Sick. It’s sick.

You can’t do this to Choso. You need to focus on him. This is happening between the two of you and no one else.

“I did,” you choose to smile back. “Let me have it now, baby?”

He sucks in a slow breath and nods, pupils blown, reaching down to unzip his jeans. You help, popping the button and reaching down to free him from his boxers.

He’s hot and firm in your grasp and you can’t help but stroke him a few times, enjoying the groans it pulls from his throat.

Painfully aware of your own arousal, you decide not to tease him anymore and shift, lining him up with your entrance. Just like that, with all of your clothes still on, you slip him inside, moaning at the relief the pressure of his girth provides your needy walls.

His hands stay on your hips as you start bouncing on him, his brows furrowing, eyes fixed on your face.

“Fuck,” he breathes, breathing ragged and erratic. You hear the wet noises obscenely in the small space, covering his shaft with your essence, and you roll your hips, teasing his tip against the sensitive spot inside of you.

“Choso,” you hiss, aiming there. Recognizing you found it, he starts thrusting up to meet your movements, heightening your pleasure. You throw your head back, mouth falling open. “Oh god baby, yes…”

His eyes flutter shut and you start riding him faster, his jaw clenching as he bites down. A strained grunt escapes with his voice, neck veins protruding, and you move your hands before thinking, wrapping them around his neck.

He groans louder as you apply a tiny amount of pressure, voice switching and going higher. You’re thoroughly wrecking your boyfriend now and it’s making your mound practically weep over his cock, uncaring that the car is rocking with your movements.

Your eyes flit to the side out of the window, and what you see punches heat into your gut so hard you gasp.

Suguru is standing on the balcony of what must be his bedroom, looking right into the window of your car at you, and only you.

He’s holding something between his fingers that looks like a cigarette, smirking down at you as he leans his cheek against his palm. Keep going, his eyes say.

You don’t dare disobey him. The thought doesn’t even cross your mind. You ride Choso even harder, getting the head of his throbbing cock to hammer against the most sensitive part of your insides.

You chance a glance down at Choso, who is still lost in a world of his own, eyes squeezed shut, and you look back up at Suguru, who is taking a drag.

He blows out smoke and it makes you clench hard around Choso.

“Fuck,” moans your boyfriend, “M’close, so close…”

You are too. The cock inside of you is so good, the friction of your shorts on your pearl is starting to overwhelm you, and Suguru watching you with absolutely zero shame is twisting your instincts into knots.

He corrupts you with dirty thoughts just by looking at you.

If it were him, the moment you’d asked to fuck, he probably would have pushed you into the backseat. You’d have been on your hands and knees, or maybe laid out on your back as he railed you so disrespectfully you’d feel him trying to invade your ribs. He’d call you all sorts of names, degrade you for being a slut, for not being able to wait.

You moan louder, feeling so close you’re about to lose your mind. Choso mewls beneath you, voice becoming lost to the whimpers he gets only when he cums.

“Baby, baby,” his voice rings out, “Fuck, I’m cumming…”

You feel it spill inside of you and as soon as Suguru’s smirk deepens, his head tilting as if to say ‘go on’, you orgasm hard.

“Oh fuck!”

Choso grunts as you clamp down on his sensitive member, slowing his thrusts to a stop as you pant heavily. You see Suguru grin and straighten up, lingering his gaze for a moment longer before turning and leaving you alone with Choso once more.

Now without the object of your forbidden desires, you slump forward, laying over Choso’s chest. You kiss his sweaty neck lovingly, embracing him tightly as the post-coital clarity starts seeping back into your head.

“Thank you,” you breathe, “I love you, Choso.”

You do. You love him. Suguru is just a fantasy and he’s going to stay that way. You’re happy with Choso and that’s the end of the story. You’ll just have to avoid Suguru and everything will be fine.

“I love you too,” He replies softly, kissing the top of your head. “Always.”

You close your eyes, biting back a heavy sigh.

I’m so sorry, you want to say, but resolve to make it up to him by just being a better partner to him than you have been, though he’s never complained. You’re not going to let this new infatuation take root.

What you don’t know is that this is only the beginning.

---

Please don't repost or translate! Feel free to reblog/share it you liked it.

A/N: I'm not even gonna lie I'm so excited for this, I have so much hot drama planned you're gonna love it. Comment to be added to my taglist for when the next parts come out!

425 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 3 months

Text

How Did They Meet Their Singer! S/O?

Type of Writing: #4 - Poll Result Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, and Eoel Felmier Name: How Did They Meet Their Singer! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: In Vil's part, the story I mentioned in completely fictional, basically was something I made up on the spot, and I also mentioned songs after the piece of a characters that I can see them singing with their S/O!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄��⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

👑 Vil is a famous person within Twisted Wonderland, and, due to his standing, he was getting many different offers for some movies that were going into production

👑 One stood out more than others, it was the retelling of an old book series that his father used to read to him all the time as a kid, The Apple of the Roses

👑 This story was kinda like a fairy-tale, with its own twist, that being the main character turned out to be the real villain of the story, and it just felt nice having himself be offered such a role, as the supposed 'main antagonist'

👑 He knew there was going to be singing, as it was specified as a musical-re-telling, so, he also expected his character's love interest to be a grand singer themselves

👑 But, when it was announced that you, the newest addiction to a mass of rising singers, was set to be his love interest, he suddenly really wanted to meet you and start practicing, which was not normal for him

👑 When you stood in front of him, dressed up all nice while maintaining the most polite expression you could muster, he was quite taken-aback, normally people are super on-edge around him

👑 Well, everyone besides that damned Neige

👑 Vil set his headphones on his ears as he watched you do the same across the glass panel, laying the sheet of lyrics on the stand as you adjusted the microphone to fit your needs, and he cleared his throat and nodded his signal to the people viewing

👑 He'd be lying if he said he wasn't shocked when he heard you sing your lines, your honey-coated voice swapping between powerful and soft like nothing

👑 Oh, he was going to enjoy making this more than he thought...

Mount Rageous ~ Link Rewrite the Stars ~ Link Close ~ Link I Don't Wanna Live Forever ~ Link

🏹 He was first introduced to your music when he joined Pomefiore, and Vil was speaking about his new friend in the industry, a singer by the name of Y/N L/N

🏹 Rook listened intently as Vil spoke about your talent, about how your voice could vary based on the tone and loudness of the music being played, and Rook was very much wanting to meet you and hear your voice

🏹 Not just by some app on his phone, but by a real-time show

🏹 So, when Vil decided to have Rook go with him on a small trip during Spring Vacation to watch him perform and record with you, he jumped up and pledged how amazing this was and honored he'd be to see the most fair and the fairest-voiced in the land in the same room

🏹 You walked inside and hugged Vil, asking how his time at Night Raven was and he answered with an polite 'well' and he introduced you and the hunter to one another

🏹 He put you off at first, with how blunt and lovely his compliments were. You, obviously, had many admires sending letters to your apartment, but, hearing how genuine his were, you got flushed

🏹 Vil smiled and lightly grabbed your hand, telling Rook to ready his ears, since recording was going to start soon

🏹 There was a small glass panel separating you and Vil from one-another, and, when you started the beautiful melody with a soft undertone while Vil was strong, his eyes sparkled

🏹 He heard you over the many apps that the students of Pomefiore would play, and he knew your voice was amazing, but, to him, it was far better in-person

🏹 Rook must speak to you about this later on! But, for now, he can enjoy himself in humming alongside you and his housewarden

Beauty and a Beat ~ Link Beautiful Mistakes ~ Link The One That Got Away (Duet Ver.) ~ Link You Are The Reason (French Ver.) ~ Link

🍎 Oh boy, he was super confused when Vil asked him if he knew who was singing a song

🍎 Epel was just walking around, doing his, in his opinions, stupid lessons, when Rook ran into the room while playing one of your newest songs, which was a mixture of country and pop

🍎 He just stood there and answered with a solid no, and Vil face-palmed lightly, as to not damage his flawless skin, and he ordered for Rook to call you

🍎 This poor boy just wants a day off from these idiotic situations, please great seven send him to his farm for a day

🍎 You answered the call of Vil's and smiled, greeting your old friend, asking him what he needed, in which he answered with a classic 'someone wanted to talk to you'

🍎 Cocking an eyebrow lightly, you chuckled and told him to show you whoever wished to speak to your lovely self, and hearing that, Epel began to hide his face out of embarrassment

🍎 Of course, he had heard about you from his first year friends, Ace and Deuce, but he had never really dug into anything to find out who you were exactly, he grew up listening to pure country music, give him a break

🍎 You gave him a smile and a sweet-sounding hello, in which he stuttered lightly before eventually gaining confidence to ask you some questions that were 'appropriate' for the moment, at least in Vil's eyes

🍎 Epel looked through the screen and into your eyes, noticing how you were looking up every few second, and he noticed you were in a recording booth, that was when he asked if you were about to record a song

" Oh! Yes, actually I am rehearsing to sing my newest song; The Apple of my Heart. Would you like to watch and listen? You can if you want, I don't wanna pressure you! "

🍎 His eyes widened in curiosity and he answered with a yes, allowing you to nod and lay your camera down, pointing to you and your headphones snugly held onto your head and you gave a thumbs up to your live-audience and began singing

🍎 Holy hell-raising of a bad harvest, your voice was amazing! He could listen to you all day!

🍎 Before you could hang up and get back to work, you asked for his number and wrote it down as he said it, and you promised to give him a quick message, after all, he seemed really fun!

🍎 Oh, what has he gotten into now...?

Hold You ~ Link Never Say Never ~ Link Thank God ~ Link Meant to Be ~ Link

#Twisted Wonderland #Twst #Pomefiore #Night Raven College #NRC #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Twst x Reader #Pomefiore x Reader #Night Raven College x Reader #NRC x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt x Reader #Epel Felmier #Epel Felmier x Reader

196 notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 2 years

Text

𝖀𝖓𝖍𝖔𝖑ұ 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

Priest! San x Fem! Reader

Genre: absolute debauchery

Summary: You visit your local catholic church, in hopes of cleansing yourself of your sins, only to commit more. A lot more.

W.C: 3.9k

Warnings: switch! San, switch! reader, seduction, masterbation, exhibitionism, filthy dialogue, oral (giving), praise kink, cum swapping, grinding, spit play, name calling, degradation, unprotected sex, squirting, dumbification

Author's Note: Ahhh, it’s finally my favorite time of year! (🎵fiNaLLy nOw, iT’s mY tImE🎵) That means it’s time to unleash all kinds of depravity onto all of you 😋 This is so filthy, like I have absolutely no excuse for this 🤭 Also, why did this heal some of my religious trauma?? ajsjshgsshk

Enjoy, you sinners 🖤

P.S: I’ll be uploading my next (kinda) spooky fic on Oct 17th ✨

Song Rec: Devour by Mr. Kitty, I Wanna Be Your Slave by Maneskin (i chose this song simply because of the lyrics “I wanna be your sinner, wanna be a preacher” 😩🤌🏼)

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

You got out of your car, immediately feeling a cold breeze rush past you, sending some of your hair into your face. After moving a few loose strands of hair that were obstructing your vision, your eyes focused on the large, somewhat intimidating cathedral that was towering over you. You sighed heavily, shutting your car door.

This was your last resort; you didn’t have any clue what to do with yourself if this didn’t work out in your favor. You couldn’t stand it anymore; the constant thirst you felt inside was slowly eating away at your sanity. You were incredibly desperate at this point, willing to do anything and everything to unbind yourself from your affliction.

After going up the small flight of stairs that led to the unusually opulent doors of the cathedral, you slowly pushed on one of them, hearing it creak loudly, making you wonder how old the building was. You poked your head in, not seeing anyone around, which made you hesitate, but you pressed on.

Once inside, you surveyed the church, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. There were rows and rows of empty pews, all leading up to an impressive-looking altar, which was littered with white candles, all in various sizes, their flickering flames illuminating the otherwise dark interior.

“Hello?” you called out in a somewhat reserved tone, hearing your voice echo throughout the large building.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting any visitors this late.”

You quickly turned your head to the side to see where the soft, yet unmistakably masculine voice was coming from. A youthful-looking man with oddly striking features, stark black hair, and a warm smile came into view. You assumed he was the priest, taking note of the all-black clerical clothing he had on.

You were about to speak, but your words were trapped inside your throat. His undeniable charm and grace had caught you off-guard, as well as his unintentional sex appeal. In your head, you had expected the priest to be some old man with a bald patch, not someone who was devilishly handsome. This unexpected turn of events certainly did not help quell the formidable amount of lust that was bubbling up inside of you. If anything, it was just fuel to the already-raging fire.

“I…um…wanted to see if you could help me with something I’ve been struggling with,” you replied in a hushed tone, taking a few slow steps in the man’s direction, swallowing nervously.

San nodded his head in an understanding manner, motioning to the confessional behind him. He slid open one side of it, saying, “If you wish to confess your sins first, then you may. It’s up to you, but allowing me to hear them might alleviate some of your guilt. It would also make it easier for me to help you.”

You followed after him and slid open the opposite side of the confessional, taking a step inside and sitting down on the cold wood seat below you. You felt goosebumps begin to form on your bare thighs, prompting you to move your hands past your skirt and onto your legs, rubbing them slowly, as a way to get rid of the sensation.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you murmured in a shaky voice, feeling a few drops of sweat begin to cascade down your temples and along the curve of your neck.

“Go on, my child. Confess, so that you may be forgiven.” San leaned his back against the thin wood panel behind him, in order to get more comfortable, his hands resting on his upper thighs.

You inhaled and exhaled a few times, unable to escape the constant stream of debauchery that went through your head, which was persistently egging you on to do something that you might regret.

“So…I…um…can’t seem to stop thinking about sex, no matter what I do. I…constantly fantasize about the things I want to do to myself and to other people…even complete strangers,” you started, your fingers gripping the sides of your upper thighs. “Day and night, it’s the same thing. Even when I give in and indulge myself, whether on my own or with others, it…never seems to be enough.”

San shifted uncomfortably in the section next to you, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet, letting you continue.

“And when I…when I’m getting fucked or when I fuck myself…I feel such intense pleasure, like it’s so overwhelming…I almost feel like I’m going to lose my mind…” you admitted in an impudent manner, exhaling some air out of your nose.

San was at a loss for words, never having encountered something quite like this before.

You bit back a moan, seemingly turned on from revealing your dirty secret to the innocent priest who was sitting just a few inches away from you. You rested your head back against the wood behind you, suddenly feeling like your insides were going to melt.

“Please, Father…I can’t take it anymore…” you whimpered, your heart racing inside your tightening chest. You wiped away some perspiration that was starting to form on your face, taking note of how incredibly hot your skin had felt.

San heard how hard you were starting to breathe, prompting him to sit up straight, his eyes focusing on the divider between you, so that he could try to get a better look at what was going on with you.

Your hazy eyes flickered in his direction, causing him to be a bit startled. “I’m burning up inside..it feels like…I’m on fire,” you revealed in a shaky tone, as you precipitously pulled yourself to the edge of the seat and leaned up against the somewhat see-through section of the confessional, looking directly into the priest’s wide eyes.

“I…um…” San blinked back at you, feeling a bit of sweat begin to trickle down the side of his forehead, still unsure of how he should react or what he should say, unknowingly encouraging you to do something bold.

You exhaled slowly, bringing your trembling fingers up to your chest, gingerly undoing each button of your dress shirt, before letting the thin material slip down off your shoulders, your bare breasts now fully visible and pressing up against the divider. “Please help me…”

San swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling suffocated by his constricting garbs. “I-I…can’t. My child, you…are simply too overcome by your sins. You need to pray to the lord to give you the strength…t-to combat these impure thoughts of yours,” he responded fragilely, feeling his heart begin to race and his pants becoming unbearably tight.

You whined softly, your fingers already finding their way underneath your skirt, making contact with your bare pussy, rubbing them slowly up and down your wet slit, making sure not to ignore your swollen clit.

“Please, Father. Only you can take this sin away from me.” You gazed into his eyes, tongue poking out of your mouth and dragging across your bottom lip, just as your two fingers disappeared inside you. “I’m begging you…I’ll even get down on my knees…if you want me to.”

San felt like he was one losing his mind now; it was almost like Lucifer himself had visited him in the form of an incredibly seductive woman, desperate to undo all of the hard work and dedication he had put in throughout the years, in order to reach his spiritual enlightenment.

“M-my child…I…I can only do my best to help you, but I can’t promise that I can cure this…ailment of yours,” he replied, evidently giving into his sinful nature, and in turn, being completely overcome with all of the lust he had consistently ignored for years.

You let out a strangled moan upon hearing San’s words, pumping your fingers into your hole so quickly, that he could clearly hear how wet you were. “Father, tell me what-aaah-to do now,” you requested, breathing heavily against the divider.

San inhaled sharply, reaching out to slide open the panel on his side and motioning for you to join him with his other hand. “Come,” was all he said, his eyes glossy and his mind clouded with desire.

Mistaking his order for you to join him for another version of the word, you curled your fingers inside you and let out a cry of pure pleasure, cumming right then and there. “Ffffuck…!”

San watched you with half-lidded eyes, his lips parted ever so slightly, thoroughly hypnotized by your bewitching aura and complete lack of shame. “I-I meant come over here…” he informed you, a deep blush present on his cheeks.

Once you had realized your mistake, you pulled yourself out of the booth, standing outside of the confessional on his side, waiting for further direction. You smiled to yourself, almost unable to believe that you had gotten your way, which only served to turn you on more. At this point, your arousal was so prominent, it was already dripping down your inner thighs and onto the pristine floor, but you didn’t care. You only had one thing on your mind, just like every other day of the week.

San‘s lust-filled gaze slowly traveled up your body, as he squeezed his thighs tightly, no longer thinking with his brain, but with his cock.

“Kneel.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard, you almost broke the skin. “Yes, Father,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. After stepping into San’s side on the confessional, you obediently lowered yourself down onto the floor before him, resting your hands on your bruised knees.

“What will quell this fire within you, my child?” the priest questioned, one of his eyebrows raised slightly.

Your eyes immediately darted to the obvious bulge that was jutting out against the thin black material of San’s robe. As your lips formed into a lewd smile, you reached down and began to unbutton his robe from the bottom and slowly worked your way up.

“I think it might help if I suck your cock…just this once, Father,” you uttered breathlessly, feeling more and more arousal pool within your core, simply from observing San’s flushed face and submissive demeanor.

He nodded his head weakly, drawing in a sharp breath, when you suddenly pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, causing his long veiny cock to spring out against his lower abdomen.

You were shamelessly drooling at this point, unable to contain yourself in the slightest. Who could blame you, though? This was the most depraved situation you had ever involved yourself in, so it was only natural that you’d be in such a whorish state.

“You have such a pretty cock, Father,” you praised, wrapping your warm fingers around the base of his erection and leaning down, in order to lazily drag your tongue from the very bottom of his length up to the tip.

“A-aah…” San bit his lip, watching intently as you began to give gentle kisses to his reddened cockhead, shivering when you sucked it into your mouth like it was a popsicle, and almost losing his sanity when you repeated this action, while your tongue moved around it in a circular motion, until you fully allowed him into your mouth. “O-oh my god…”

You bobbed your head, taking a good portion of his length into your mouth and throat with ease, sucking him off like your life had depended on it, which it did, in a way. “Mm…mmnnn…mm-hmmm…” you moaned onto San’s cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes, desperate to hear that you were pleasing him.

San slipped his fingers into your hair, stroking it in a gentle manner, as he completely and utterly unraveled before your eyes. “Nnngh…that…feels…so goood…” he whined softly, groaning each time he felt his dick twitch and pulse inside your warm mouth. “Please, don’t stop…”

You hummed from hearing his praise, as you proceeded to wrap both of your hands around the part of his cock that you couldn’t reach with your mouth, pumping them steadily. The excessive amount of drool in your mouth served only to make wet, sinful sounds that could be heard clearly in the otherwise silent building.

San was a whiny, moaning mess at this point, due to the constant influx of pleasure you were so graciously providing him. The unholy sight of you worshiping his cock didn’t help in the slightest, instead encouraging him to delve into a deeper state of pure salaciousness that he wasn’t completely sure he could pull himself out of.

“I-I think I’m gonna…!” the priest gasped, tossing his head back against the wood panel, his hands suddenly reaching out to press onto both sides of the confessional, out of pure desperation. “Oh, goddd!”

Long, hot spurts of cum poured out of San’s cock, filling up your mouth and throat completely, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull. You swallowed and swallowed, but he still wasn’t done cumming, due to never relieving himself even once.

San’s thighs trembled, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, his sweaty hands still holding either side of the confessional. “I-I…I can’t…it’s…aaah…too much…” he breathed out, a few tears falling from his watery eyes.

Once you had a tummy full of cum, you stood up and slowly sat down on San’s lap, your cheeks still filled with the white sticky substance that he pumped your mouth full of.

San’s hands slipped down the walls of the confessional and instinctively settled on your hips, while he looked up at you like you were his new god. “You…where…where did you even come from?” he asked, studying your features.

Not giving him an answer, you grabbed his face in your hands and brought him into an open-mouthed kiss, your body pressing up against his.

“Mmmn..!“ San reacted instinctively, feeling a large amount of his slightly bitter release get pushed into his mouth by your tongue.

You tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss and exploring his mouth thoroughly, feeling more wetness leak out of you, just as you heard San begin to swallow his own cum. You eventually pulled away from him when you felt that he had enough, giggling softly when you saw his fucked-out expression.

“Oh, you like that, huh? You like guzzling down your own cum like some kind of slut?” you taunted, sliding your thumb across his spit and cum-covered lips, before popping it into your mouth to clean it. “You’re pretty fucking filthy for a priest.”

San whined at your words, unable to deny your statement. He had previously believed that he was better than the rest of society, since he was able to ignore his sexual urges through sheer power of will and constant discipline, but now…now he was cursing himself for waiting so long to do something as pleasurable as this.

“Just be quiet now and let me have my way with you…” San muttered, his eyes darkening with rampant lust, the submissive nature he had exuded just moments ago now being replaced with something he didn’t even know he had in him.

You chuckled, finding San’s change in tune adorable at first, just before he began rolling his hips in a rhythmic motion, his cock rubbing deliciously against your folds and clit.

“O-oh, wow…” you reacted, realizing how serious he actually was. You let out a small gasp when San’s mouth suddenly latched onto one of your breasts.

San sucked on it in a desperate manner, then used his teeth to pull at your nipple roughly, drawing a moan from your lips. He chuckled darkly against your skin, before swapping one breast for the other, slurping on it messily, his cock still rubbing against you at a steady pace. Spit dripped down his chin, but he didn’t care. He was completely gone at this point, and it was all because of you.

You arched your back, barely able to handle the way he was pleasuring you with both his mouth and his cock, despite him not even being inside you yet. In all honesty, it was driving you crazy; you needed him inside you, or else you might actually lose your mind.

“Just fuck me already!” you abruptly blurted out, grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking them a bit, trying to gain his attention.

San pulled away from your spit-covered breasts with a small ‘pop’, his fingers digging into your hips so firmly, it made you wince from the pain.

“What’s the magic word, whore?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, upon hearing his words. You couldn’t even believe you were dealing with the same man; it was like he was a completely different person. His once gentle gaze was replaced with something that could only be described as wicked; perhaps he had been possessed by a demon. How else could you explain such a sudden switch in character?

San suddenly grabbed you by the jaw and forced it down, so that your faces were only a few centimeters apart, growling, “I won’t fuck you, until you say please, you cock-loving slut.”

“P-please…please fuck me,” you murmured, almost ready to cum from his words and actions alone. This was the best possible outcome of the unusual situation you were in; maybe God was real, after all. “Please, Father…Fuck me like the whore I am. I need it…so bad…”

***

“Cumming for the third time already? You really are nothing but a slave for cock, huh?” San’s face was buried in your neck, his lips ghosting along your skin, his hips snapping up into yours at an unrelenting pace. “Or is it just my cock that drives you crazy?”

Your brain felt fuzzy and clouded, barely allowing you to understand what San was saying to you; all you could focus on was the mind-breaking amount of pleasure that was radiating from your lower half and coursing throughout your entire body.

San’s fingers sunk into both sides of your ass, squeezing it roughly, as he continued to plunge himself into you as deep as he possibly could. “Come on, stay with me, baby. Don’t be fading away now. You got what you wanted, now tell me how much you love it,” he huffed, using one hand to grab you by the jaw once again, looking directly into your barely-open eyes.

“I-it feels so fucking good, Father!” you whined, parting your lips obediently just as San slid his thumb into your mouth.

“Good girl.”

San held one side of your face, his thumb still inside your mouth, thrusting wildly into you, until you both had reached your highs at the same time. He slowed down his movements significantly, but didn’t stop completely, shivering when he felt your combined essence drip down to the base of his cock and onto the wood flooring below.

You pulled your mouth off of his thumb and slumped forward in his arms, panting heavily. “Fuck…” was all you could say, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Don’t be falling asleep now, my pretty little cockslut. I’m not done with you yet,” San informed you, as he held your thighs sturdily and stood up, carrying you out of the confessional and sitting down on one of the pews with you still in his lap, his cock still inside you.

You blinked down at San with wide eyes, unable to believe how much stamina he had possessed, not that you were complaining. This was what you wanted, after all.

San’s hands suddenly dropped from your legs, his dark eyes studying yours, as his body lowered down a bit against the wooden seat.

“I want to watch you ride my cock. Can you be a good little whore and do that for me?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically, calmly resting your hands on San’s shoulders, before abruptly slamming your hips down into his at a desperate speed right out of the gate. You lowered your chin, drinking in all of the man’s pleasured facial expressions.

“Jesus Christ…!” San gripped the edge of the seat, his nails digging into the wood, unable to hold back his moans. His cock throbbed persistently against your tight inner walls, prompting him to do his best not to cum too quickly.

You leaned down and held San’s warm face in your hands, looking deep into his eyes. “Is it good, Father? Does it feel good?” you asked in an airy tone, bouncing on his cock with reckless abandon, your lips just barely brushing over his.

“Y-yes, it-haaah-feels amazing…Now, come here,” he huffed, suddenly holding your face as well and pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue immediately exploring every inch of your mouth. Once San had his fill, he pushed your face away, your lips still connected by a few strings of saliva.

You were on the edge of orgasming once again, desperate to reach it, your sanity almost completely gone at this point in time. “Fill…Fill me up with your salvation, Father…I need it, please…give it to me…!” you begged, holding tightly onto San, your sweat-covered body pressing against his.

“Oh, my goddd…” San groaned out, his dark eyes boring into yours, before growling, “Ask and you shall receive, you filthy fucking whore!”

San suddenly gripped your ass tightly in his hands, bucking his hips up into yours, fucking you as deep and hard as he possibly could, drawing loud, broken moans from your lips, as well as causing you to squirt all over his cock. His movements started becoming sloppy and desperate, his thighs trembling slightly against yours.

“I’m- Fuck…!” San tossed his head back against the pew, as he pumped you full of his cum for the second time, filling your pussy up to the brim, just as you had begged for. “Jesus fucking Christ, this tight little cunt of yours is milking me dry…” he exhaled, moving forward to rest his head on your shoulder, holding you in place, cum still being forced out of his cock in slow spurts, due to all the years he went without a single release.

You were delirious, to say the least, unable to form a single coherent thought. “Fa…ther…” you murmured out, voice barely above a whisper. Holding onto San with a death grip, you looked up, completely enamored with the way the light of the moon shone through the mosaic glass behind the altar. Overcome with pleasure and borderline psychosis, you blinked a few tears away, swearing you saw God herself.

San remained quiet for quite a while, just focusing on his breathing, while coming down from his high and coming to terms with the choices he had made.

You pulled back slightly, so that you could caress the panting priest’s face, looking at him with sparkling eyes. “You…cured me, Father…The burning I felt inside…it’s gone. All I feel is…love…” you informed San, giving him a genuine smile, before pressing your lips onto his cheek, as a thank you.

San looked at you with tired, bloodshot eyes, feeling both incredibly satisfied and guilty at the same time. He sighed softly, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

➽───────────────❥

Tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cloudysannie @aryraaaa @za-con @cosmiczen @choerryge @aikyubi @arusio @gueritaybonita @iheartkila123 @i-l0v3hands @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @jexidamulti @mingisgf @as-she-pleases @just-a-simp @vlrity @purplechannie @lilactiny @eclecticranchzonkcookie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @Icyhyunie @cherryxsang @namsloverr @chanst1ddies @woo-stars @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @ilovehyunjinsm @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @fairyoftaehyun @singularity777 @bls-luv-me @lavanyasingh04 @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @woomyteez

those bolded could not be tagged ;;

Apply for the taglists here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez san #san ateez #san #choi san #san smut #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #kpop smut #ateez oneshot #ateez hard hours

2K notes · View notes

bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

Surprise

rockstar!dad!bucky x f!momreader

summary: last show of Buckys tour where he gets a special surprise

part of the same universe as Love from afar but can be read as standalone

a/n: so I'm kinda soft for rockstar dad bucky you might see more of him in the future I already have 2 more fic ideas sushdbbd

main masterlist

bucky masterlist

-more rockstardad!bucky

hope you enjoy! if you have any questions or feedback my asks are open!

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK

_________________________________________

Tonight was the last stop of tour, and Bucky was feeling all kinds of things. Nervous, sad that the tour was done, but also incredibly happy to finally get home to his pregnant wife and two boys.

"Good evening everybody!" Bucky yells into the mic and does a riff on his guitar.

"Tonight is the last show-" before he finishes he's cut off by screams of "noo" of their fans.

"I know, I know. This tour has been a real dream come true. I wanna thank everyone who's here tonight and everyone who saw our show in the last six months. And of course, to those who support us from afar."

Bucky stops talking and looks at the huge stadium screaming his name and almost tears up.

"Let's have fun tonight!"

Bucky starts singing the first song, and the crowd goes wild. He loves this so much the adrenaline the energy it makes him feel high.

It's getting close to the end of the show. Only the last song is left, and it's a surprise song for the last show. This song Bucky wrote for you when he was leaving for tour the first time after having a kid. Its not a song they usually play as it is a slow farewell song, but why not.

"Thank you for such an amazing show. You are such an incredible crowd. But can I ask for a little more of your time and energy?!"

The crowd yells out a yes. Bucky and other members of his band smile, him and Steve share a look that says "we made it".

They start singing, and the crowd starts singing the lyrics with them, some people start crying and the stadium is lit up with phone flashlights

When they finish the last song the crowd chants their name.

"Thank you!" Bucky bows lowly.

and then the crowd screams louder and Bucky turns around.

"I know the show is over. But I thought I could ask for one last song?"

Bucky is speechless when he hears your voice, and when he sees his 7 month pregnant wife on stage, he almost collapses. The crowds screaming dies out, and the only thing Bucky sees is you in a pretty purple dress standing a few feet away microphone in your hands.

"So? Just my favourite I'm sure no one would mind? Right Steve?"

Steve smiles at you softly, he knew you were coming and helped you pull this thing off without Bucky knowing.

"What's one more song?" Steve says and starts singing.

Bucky takes the microphone and starts singing to you. He slowly walks over, scared that you'll disappear any second. You wouldn't call this song particularly sweet and romantic since Bucky wrote it about your wild hookups in unconventional places when you were like 18. But still, it remains your favourite song.

By the end of the song, Bucky is close to sobbing he started crying at some point.

"My beautiful wife, everybody!" He says through tears. The crowd has been screaming since you came out on stage.

"Thank you! Sorry to keep you a bit longer I'm sure everybody is very tired. Get home safe." you say and leave the stage waving, but not before kissing Bucky softly and telling him you'll see him in a bit.

While you wait for the show to finish, you log into Buckys Instagram since you don't have your own. Already, there are thousands and thousands of posts about you coming on stage.

Bucky didn't publicly announce the pregnancy, and neither have you. This time, you somehow managed to hide it for so long since the attention was mostly pointed at the tour.

You're sure that by tomorrow, every tabloid will have your picture splattered everywhere but you couldn't care less. What Bucky doesn't know yet is that the boys are here with you and you can't wait to see his face.

"DADDY!" Theo screams and jumps into his fathers arms, and Bucky catches him.

Bucky holds onto his son like he's going to disappear any second.

"What are you doing here? How? When?" Bucky asks in between kisses that he's giving your son.

Leo crawls and hugs Bucky's legs, with Theo still in his arms, Bucky picks up his other son and starts kissing each of their cheeks in turns.

"We wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked, no?" you tease him a little and snap a picture of the sweet scene in front of you.

Somehow, Theo ends up clinging onto his dad's back, which gives Bucky enough space to pull you into a group hug.

"Ew you're sweaty and smell. Theo get down you'll get stinky too."

Bucky doesn't let either of you leave his embrace, and the menace he is, he snuggles Leo even closer to him. You smile into his neck, you missed him so much.

"Alright, I'll go shower, then we can go. Don't go anywhere."

"Daddy wait I'm still here!" Theo screams into Buckys ear trying to get down but Bucky is still holding him.

"Oh right, I guess you're not showering with me." Theo giggles happily and walks over to you.

"The other one too Buck." He rolls his eyes and let's his 3 year old down from his arms.

He doesn't take long, and the four of you are on your way to the hotel.

In the car, boys talk to their father, and Bucky listens very carefully, not to miss a single word.

When you get to the hotel suite, Bucky gets the boys ready for bed and reads them a bedtime story. They fall sleep almost instantly, Theo on his right shoulder and Leo on his left.

Bucky manages to wiggle out without waking them up and makes his way over to you.

"God I love you. You're incredible. How did you even do this we talked this morning and I-" you cut him off with a kiss.

"I love you too. And I can't belive that we've been married for so long and I still get to surprise you." Bucky smiles and put his hand on you belly, feeling the little movement.

"My pretty baby, I'm sorry daddy hasn't talked you I promise I'll make it up to you, I'm gonna be the only thing you hear for forever!" Bucky talks to the baby in your belly.

"I love you more than anything, Bucky I love our family and I missed you so fucking much." you start to tear up, holding onto Buckys hands. It hit you all at once that you're having another baby and that he wasn't there and that you can't believe you found a soulmate.

"Doll, you're my forever. I love you more than there are stars in the universe. I can not thank you enough for being there and supporting me and being the mother of my children. The last 6 months have both been the best and worst of my life. I want you to know that you and the boys were all I could think about. I can not wait to get home, our messy, lively home. Soon, I know we'll be getting zero sleep, and we'll be exhausted, but I will be doing it with you. That makes me extremely happy. You were my dream then, my dream now and my dream forever."

You sob into his chest, holding him tightly, as if he's going to disappear into thin air. The hug is a bit weird as your bump is in the way but it's the thing that you needed the most right now.

"If I could I would fuck you right now you look incredibly sexy." you say through tears and Buckys chest vibrate from the laugh.

"I'll make it up to you my love. I will have you in bed for a week straight, you'll be all mine. My pretty doll." He plants a sweet kiss on top of your head.

"Let's get you in bed. I'm sure you're tired." you only nod and let Bucky take care of you.

When you fall asleep, Bucky is wide awake looking at his beautiful family. He can't wait to get home and take care of you.

[THE END]

*extra*

*comments*

omg such goals!

want someone to look at me the way bucky and his wife look at each other!

how does one looks so gorgeous while that pregnant she's literally glowing! Bucky is so lucky!

family goals

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #dad bucky x reader #bucky x reader #rockstar!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff

699 notes · View notes

lomlhwa · 1 year

Text

vocal training (k.th)

paring: vocal coach!taehyun x idol!reader

preview: you've been working with taehyun for the past year and a half to improve your voice for your debut. after so much time building tension, taehyun finds that he has a... different sound that he wants to hear come out of you. maybe even help you relieve some stress about your upcoming debut.

tags/warnings: fem reader, reader is so oblivious to taehyun's crush on her, so much kissing, taehyun consent king, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, fingering, auralism, hair pulling, praise, degrading, pet names (baby, doll, babe, my love, good girl, slut), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), orgasm denial, reader just getting bent over taehyun's mixing desk, creampie

trigger warnings: kinda unconsensual audio recording but it's literally only mentioned right at the end.

wc: 1.5k

song recs for this fic: perfume by dojaejung, la girls by charlie puth, my house by 2pm, deja vu by ateez, they wanna fuck by kim petras, dangerous woman by ariana grande

a/n: if you want your pussy domestically abused, hit my line. with that, nevvie out 🫡

you try again to hit the falsetto taehyun’s been trying to get out of you. yet again, your voice breaks right before you hit the right note. you rip the headphones off and groan in frustration.

you've been trying to hit this note for weeks. the one time you managed to hit it, you weren't even recording. you'd come into the studio early to practice, in hopes you'd be able to impress your coach by hitting the note first try when he gets here. he always made you feel special when you managed to hit a difficult note. hugs, kisses on the cheek, anything to be mildly touchy.

you almost thought he might have a crush on you. but why would your vocal coach like you as anything more than his student or his friend? you had started to like taehyun because of his touchy-ness but you would never tell him. there’s no way he would see you the same way.

he arrives at the studio to see you sitting on the floor beyond frustrated with yourself. you bang your head against the sound proofed wall behind you, trying to figure out what you’re doing wrong. he giggles to himself before opening the door to the recording room.

“you’re belting. you’re supposed to just let it flow, baby,” taehyun says as he opens the door to the recording room where you currently reside. you sigh and throw your lyric sheets in his general direction. “i don’t know how to not belt it,” you groan and shove your face in your hands.

he gets behind you as best he can and hooks his arms under your armpits, lifting you up off the floor. “a falsetto is a head voice tone and you, doll, are using your chest voice. you just gotta shift where you’re singing from and you’ll hit it,” he puts the headphones back on your head, readjusting the mic to your level. he demonstrates the note with his own head voice, impressing you in the process. the fact that your male vocal coach can hit female falsettos never fails to amaze you.

he walks back out of the recording room, settling into his chair in front of the mixing board. “i don’t think i’m physically capable of doing that,” you say into the mic, your voice booming into the other room. he laughs before pressing the intercom button and saying, “babe, i know you’re capable. you’re just pushing yourself too hard.” you whine, not wanting to keep trying.

“alright, come on, head voice,” he reminds you, “i know you’ve got that note somewhere in that beautiful voice of yours.” you do a couple vocal warm ups to prepare to try and get yourself into your head voice. he cues the backtrack and you wait a moment for your cue to sing. you sing the first couple of verses with no mistakes. a small musical bridge hits and you prepare yourself to sing your high note. but, much to your dismay, your voice cracks again, ruining this part of the recording.

you throw the headphones off and yell, which takes over the other room’s sounds. you throw your pages around again, losing your cool. “y/n, come out here please,” taehyun says over the intercom. you trudge out of the studio and out to face your vocal coach. “you’re still belting,” you open your mouth to retort with some smartass comment but he pulls you onto his lap, wrapping arm around your waist to caress your back.

“if you keep forcing the note, you’re going to ruin your vocal chords. we don’t want that right before your debut, do we, doll?” he sounds so condescending that it sends chills down your spine. he wraps both arms around you, pulling you down to rest your full body weight on his hardened member. you look at him, your mouth slightly agape and your eyes wide.

“taehyun what are you-” he shakes his head, shushing you. he grips your hips with his hands, rocking you back and forth in his lap. your hands find purchase on his shoulders to keep yourself grounded. his hands fall away and your hips continue on their own. taehyun holds your jaw with one of his hands, forcing you to look at him. a small groan falls from your lips at the contact.

“do you want some… extra voice training?” he asks. you know what he really means and your mind is so foggy that all you can do is not and make a small noise of agreement. “i need words, baby,” he says, tracing your throat and jawline with his pointer finger. he shifts you over to his thigh before flexing it, sending a spike of pleasure through you. “yes! yes please,” you cry out.

he breathes out a few curses before connecting your lips. his lips are plump and soft. he licks over your bottom lip, relishing in the taste of your cherry chapstick. you catch the tip of his tongue between your lips, giving it a harsh suck before welcoming it into your mouth fully.

his hand travels down to the small of your back to encourage you to rock your hips on his thigh. you let out a shaky breath as taehyun helps you set a steady pace. you hold his face in your hands as he kisses down your neck, licking over the spots where dark marks are sure to appear. “that’s it, baby. use me to get off,” he says, his voice low and raspy. his words send a new jolt of pleasure through you, your hips picking up their pace.

“that’s a good girl. good fucking girl,” his groans against your ear. your hands move from his face to the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. “go on, doll, cum for me.” your hips stutter as your high crashes over you. taehyun talks you through it, whispering small praises about how good you are for him.

“i would love to taste you, but i think i might explode if i’m not inside you in the next 30 seconds.” that’s the only warning he gives you before getting you off his lap and bent over his mixing desk. he reaches over to turn off the mixer, not wanting your bodyweight to accidentally mess with something. he tugs your pants down to your ankles, not even bothering to take them off you fully.

his finger traces the wet patch on your panties before tugging your panties off too. he grabs your hair, tugging your head back before saying; “i’m going to fuck you until you can hit the fucking high note.” your eyes roll into the back of your head as he shoves into you. he sheathes himself fully, but doesn’t move. you wiggle around, trying to get something out of him.

“sing the note,” he emphasizes his words with a thrust accompanying each word. you clear your throat, preparing your voice box to try and hit the note he wants. when your voice cracks again, he lets out a sinister laugh. “aww, you stupid slut. guess you don’t get to cum,” he tugs your hair again before setting a borderline abusive pace. the sounds of skin slapping and your high pitched moans fill the room.

“oh so you can moan at the right pitch but you can’t fucking sing at the right pitch? absolutely pathetic,” his words have an extremely mean tone and it makes you clench around him. he makes a ‘tsk’ sound when you clench. he jerks your head back again, leaning down to kiss you. your ass jiggles when he thrusts harder into you. you groan against his mouth, your high creeping up on you.

“gonna-mmf cum,” you manage to say. he shakes his head, pulling away from your lips. “ah, ah, ah, i don’t think so,” he stops all his movements, causing your high to begin to fall away. you make a crying sound, whining at him denying you your second orgasm.

“hit. the. fucking. note,” he growls. you look into his eyes; his pupils are blown and his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. he has his bottom lip caught between his teeth, admiring your half naked body underneath him. you open your mouth to sing and you finally get the note.

"i'm so fucking proud of you, my love," his hips pick up their aggressive page again. "i knew you could do it." you squeal, kicking your feet at your sensitivity. you know your high is gonna hit sooner rather than later. you're barely gasping out breaths as he abuses your hole with his throbbing cock.

you can tell his own orgasm is building at the way his grunts have become louder. "where do you want it, baby?" he asks, basically edging himself to wait for your answer. "i-inside p-please taehyun," you mutter, your orgasm crashing into you like a tsunami.

he hits you with one last thrust before filling you up to the brim with his seed. he admires the way your wet, hot sex keeps him swallowed in, sucking him dry. you finally collapse on the mixing board, your arms too worn out to keep holding your torso up.

"hey, let's get you home," taehyun says while pulling your pants and underwear back up your legs. "but don't i have to hit the note on recording?" you ask, confused while he helps you stumble to the door.

"you already did. i was recording the whole time."

#lomlhwa #txt #tomorrow x together #taehyun #kang taehyun #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #taehyun smut #kang taehyun smut

711 notes · View notes

stcrgazings · 1 year

Text

like a tattoo ➳ (c.l)

part two is up and you can read it here

note: sooooo I literally wrote this out of nowhere, but i like how it turned out, it’s nothing like the song really buttt it has some of its lyrics so it only seemed fitting to name it that. thx to my girly @hey-kae who was my beta reader, and convinced me to post this, love ya. happy reading and don’t be a ghost reader!

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

summary: in which you’re having a very hard time trying not to think about your ex-boyfriend charles, and with his dnf in the first race of the season, everything seems to remind you of him.

warnings: use of alcohol, lots of swearing (mostly fuck), a very heartbroken reader, mentions of a dick-ish charles, smoking ¿?? kinda

word count: 1,5K (it’s a shortie but I promise is soooo good)

“and it’s a Ferrari slowing down guys, and it looks like it’s Leclerc” the commentator in the tv says and your heart immediately drops.

Yes, you hate him, and don’t even wanna look at his face ever again but your heart still aches for him and the way his team is failing him yet again in what is barely the first race of the season.

Your model friend turns to look at you as the stylist sips you up over the black tube dress and fixes your hair in the tight ponytail that adorned you head.

“That’s karma” says the girl besides you, as you inevitably roll your eyes.

“That’s one way to call it” you say and everyone in the room that was starting at you bursts out in laughter.

You wanted to hate him, you really did, but you couldn’t help but wanting to text him after that awful race for him.

But fuck him, right?

He had a championship to win, at least that what he said when he broke up with you cold blooded, so yeah, fuck him and his stupid unreliable little red car.

you look at yourself in the mirror and smile at the reflection, you’re pretty, the most wanted model of every single luxury brand, and you eventually will get over him.

So you say your goodbyes as you exit the Prada building after signing yet another contract to add to your portfolio, your girl best friend hooked in your arm as you both giggled softly about where you both will be partying that nigth.

“But in Monaco right?” She asks as you both enter the limousine waiting for you at the front.

“Yeah I guess” is all you answer as you manager turns to look at you both.

Your hand lingers through your phone and eventually Charles contact, you wanted to text him, but at the end you decide against it, but something in the back of your mind tells you to unblock him and so you do.

Maybe some vodka will give you the courage to text him, or at least to hook up with someone else to forget about those haunting green eyes.

“We’re going to a club” you answer, finally lifting your eyes from the device your managers face quickly going pale.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” He asks serious, you roll your eyes.

“Why?” You play dumb as your friend besides you giggles.

“Bella don’t support her!” He complains.

“I’m actually curious why not?” The model asks again, also playing dumb, the man in front of you squeezing his fists as the both of you gang up on him.

“You going out partying and getting hammered when your ex just got his ass kicked at the race, how do you think the media would react to that?”

you meant this with absolutely every bone of your tiny body, when you say this;

“Do you really think I care what the media thinks? Fuck them for all I care” You spit and Bella besides you claps and cheers and picks a fight with your manager who is clearly unhappy with your plans of the night, he lists all of the cons and the reasons you should stay at home tonight.

“It’s a Sunday y/n, for gods sake!” He says but you didn’t listen and truly did not care a bit.

This is what you’ve been doing for the pasts weeks to try and cope with what he had done to you, and you hated yourself for not just getting over him.

Because it’s not like he was boyfriend of the year when you two were together, in the last months of your relationship he barely even acknowledge you, and he had dump you over call after what it was the biggest fight of your relationship.

Because you had exploded out frustration from his constant indifference, and dick ass attitude, and then ditched the apartment you both shared together.

So naturally when when he called you hours later you thought it was maybe to fix the things between the both of you.

But boy were you wrong.

Somewhere along the lines of “you’re just a model you don’t understand anyway” and “text me when you come get your things” the person you had love the most for the longest time broke your heart and didn’t looked back.

And so you went into self defense and destructive mode and if he didn’t looked back neither did you, blocking him in every social media known to men.

And like that you were strangers with who one was your favorite person in the entire earth.

And so if you wanted to go and get completely hammered after he lost a stupid race you would.

(…)

The Weeknd was playing as you downed another shot with people surrounding you as they cheered you on.

you were pretty wasted, but you still couldn’t get the Ferrari driver out of your mind.

All that you could think about was him, how much you missed him, and how much you wanted him right now.

As you danced with strangers hand all over your body you couldn’t help but remember his.

You remembered his hands, the way you would squirm under his touch, how he would show you how the stars looked like with just his fingers, the way his hands fit practically like they were meant to be holding yours, how good it feel when they were wrap around your neck, and how he would woke you up with them as he tickle you in to his arms, the way he held you at night as you both talk about your days and how much you missed each other.

Suddenly it all feels like too much, you pushed the stranger away from you, his grab in you becoming overwhelming and you need air, a single tear running trough your cheek and you can’t breath and it’s so unfair.

It’s unfair because you’ve had the worse months of your life and he had just moved on, with who used to be one of your best friends.

(Or at least that’s what every single media outlet said)

And you probably shouldn’t believe it but you still remembered the bile coming up your throat as you stared at the pictures of them at the Paris Fashion Week.

So you sit with your head thrown back in on of the sofas of the private booths at the club, and as the air conditioner hit your face, you remembered his hands and the way the mountains looked when you took that trip to the French Alps last Christmas, and you wanted to sob because of how awful it all felt and how much your body ache for him, you close your eyes and take some deep breath, and you can almost feel his lips against yours, you can almost see the life shooting diamonds from his eyes, his beautiful eyes.

The ones that would haunt you at night when you couldn’t sleep because all you did was think of him, how he was doing, if he missed you as much as you did him.

“You want a cig? Looks like you need it” a stranger asks in front of you, you mumble a no as you can, being so lost in your own head.

For the longest time Charles was by far, in your books at least the best person in the world, always so happy and perky, his smile lighting up your days, and nights, always so hungry for life, wanting for you to know the world the same way he did, always so passionate about the things he loved, always so passionate and loving of you.

You can’t help but wonder when it all went wrong, maybe somewhere between France and Abu Dhabi, the last being the last time you remembered being genuinely happy beside Charles, because yes he had come second in the championship but you remembered the way he held you up and kissed you in the hotel room and for a moment you thought you both will be fine.

But when you reach the top, it comes the fall.

And it was all fighting and misunderstandings and misery because you just wanted to be with him but he just wouldn’t let you.

Now you were there, still falling, wanting to forget about those times when you were happy with him.

He moved on, why couldn’t you?

Sitting there you beg for the universe to help you, to give you a sign, anything really, that eventually things would change, that you would stop feeling this way, that the hole inside your chest would disappear and finally the air would feel the way it’s supposed to and breathing and waking up in the morning wouldn’t be as hard as it had been lately and happiness would return your way and things would get better.

Obviously the least that you expect is your phone screen lighting up.

Especially with the name of the one that hadn’t been able to leave your mind in the entire night.

Suddenly and “I miss you” text from Charles hits you out of nowhere like a brick in the face.

Maybe you’ll take that cigarette now.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc one shot #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x female character #f1 x reader #f1 angst #ferrarri #charles leclerc angst #bahrain gp 2023 #f1 one shot #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x reader

725 notes · View notes

ishomieokay · 4 months

Text

Idolatry (Chapter 1)

18+ 7.k homelander x hispanic oc, age difference, strenght kink, loss of virginity, religion kink, slow dancing, light dom/sub, rough sex, nebulously takes place post s03e03. part 1/?. AO3 link, part 2.

Homelander's fooling around with a perky Latina almost twenty years his junior. She's looking for a daddy. He just wants a good fuck, and maybe to mess with Maeve's head. It's not going to end well.

Aura María realized that the party had reached a point of no return when the Junior Manager of Crime Analytics climbed onto a table and started singing a Luis Miguel song at the top of his lungs. His name was Ethan, and he neither knew the lyrics nor spoke a word of Spanish.

She observed the dance floor from her seat at the bar, cringing at the increasingly deteriorating dancing skills of the guests. Ashley Barret, the Head of Superhero Affairs at Vought, clearly had too much to drink. Like an octopus, she had possessively wrapped her limbs around Cameron Coleman, a news anchor she was rumored to be dating. If their roaming hands and slow, inebriated motions were anything to go by, they had long forgotten that they were at a corporate party and not in a dimly lit club downtown.

Earlier, a well-known Paramount producer had approached Aura María about her latest documentary. She attempted to do some networking, but it didn’t take long for her to deem it a failed enterprise. “I heard The Invisible Boy was a great success at Cannes this year. Congratulations! Your take on Translucent’s untimely demise was so moving,” he said, and although initially, she was flattered, soon it became apparent that it was not her he was seeking to engage in conversation with, but rather her companion for the evening.

Goddam leeches, she thought bitterly, even the ones on top gather around if the smell of blood’s tempting enough.

Aura María shook herself, unwilling to let the nuisances of the industry dampen her good mood. “What ya say, champ? Wanna head to the dance floor?” she asked, poking fun at her date’s intermittent Southern accent. The Homelander blinked at her as if perplexed by the invitation. After a beat, he smiled widely, revealing a row of bright and unusually sharp teeth.

“Oh, no. I don’t dance,” he replied, in a tone that broke no argument. “Like, at all. Especially not… this.”

Aura María didn’t miss the contempt in the slight arch of Homelander’s eyebrow or the dismissive wave of his hand. She pursed her lips, trying not to feel affronted.

To a certain extent, she knew where she stood with him. Although neither Homelander nor Vought had an open political agenda, Aura María had a vague idea of the type of man he was and the beliefs he held. His anti-immigration stance was not a secret to the public. Still, a part of her had hoped it was only a matter of appealing to his fanbase. These days, the Seven’s golden boy was more popular with the older generations, and primarily with people of white descent.

Surely he wouldn’t have asked her out if he actually had an issue with Hispanics, though? Were that the case, she couldn’t fathom why he would invite her to a Latino-themed party for a first date, especially if he found the mere notion of dancing to a Caribbean beat so distasteful.

“Do you even know what this is?” Aura María asked, crossing her arms.

“I dunno. Some traditional Cuban dance? It kinda looks like that scene from Dirty Dancing just… dirtier.” Homelander wrinkled his nose but thankfully refrained from commenting further.

Aura María wanted to be annoyed, but she also knew better than to take his old-fashioned prudishness upfront. As frighteningly good as he was at maintaining his squeaky clean Boy Scout image, she had been working in the entertainment industry long enough to recognize it for what it was. She wondered if he would allow her to see the real thing if she stuck around long enough.

“It’s called Bachata and it’s actually Dominican.” Aura María tilted her head to the side, a teasing smile spreading across her face. “You get points for not assuming it’s Mexican, though. I think we’re making progress.”

Homelander frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nuthin’,” she replied, standing up. “Come on, don’t be such a spoilsport. If you wanted to spend the entire gala sitting around watching other people dance, you shouldn’t have brought me as your date.”

“Right, my bad,” Homelander deadpanned. “It won’t happen again.”

“Uh, uh,” Aura María tutted, shaking her head. “You ain’t getting out of this one so easily, mister.”

She extended her hand towards him, wriggling her fingers. Homelander stared at her for a long moment, as if weighing his options. For a moment, Aura María thought that she would be refused again, but then he sighed and relented, taking her hand. “Fine, let’s get it over with,” he said, allowing her to lead him to the dance floor.

They were right on time. A Romeo Santos song had just started playing. If she was going to give America’s Dad some dancing lessons, she better start off with the good stuff. Homelander stood awkwardly before her, seeming unsure of what to do. Taking pity on him, Aura María grasped his hands. “You don’t have to look so worried,” she said with a smile, “I’ll lead you.”

Homelander’s mouth curled downwards. “I thought the man’s supposed to lead?”

“We’ll get there. I just gotta show you the steps first,” Aura María replied, amused despite herself. She then proceeded to make a quick demonstration. “See? It’s real easy. Just one, two, three, four, again and again.”

“O-okey-dokey.” Although Homelander smiled, there was something decidedly strained about the gesture.

It was a rare sight - a man built like a wall and almost twice her size, gracelessly fumbling around and searching her face for guidance. Aura María felt a bit bad. Homelander went through the motions, and although it looked stiff and awkward, it wasn't the worst she'd witnessed as far as first tries went.

“Okay, you’re getting it. You’re just too still. Try to shift your weight while you move.”

She put a hand over his waist, trying to guide him through it, but Homelander refused to move an inch. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he huffed out a breath. Then he rolled his hips in a strange, floundering motion, shifting his weight from one side to the other. He looked like a fish on land, desperately squirming around in an attempt to jump back into the water. Aura María tried and failed to stifle her laugh.

“My god, you’re such a fucking white boy.”

Homelander glared down at her. “Don’t know how to tell you this, missy, but María or not, you too are white as bread.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Aura María replied. “But I’m also Venezuelan, so I’m still the better dancer. You’re at a genetic disadvantage.”

“Uh." Homelander arched an eyebrow. "Can’t say anyone’s ever told me that before.”

He put a hand on her waist then, pressing her against his chest. Aura María was somewhat startled by his demeanor, not at all like the carefree, downright corny persona she knew from TV interviews and brief workplace interactions. Although he’d been known to venture into politics here and there, Homelander’s brand content had always remained vanilla and family-friendly. His character was designed to be wholesome, goofy, and almost comically artificial, at least to the discerning eye.

The man currently flashing bedroom eyes at her was someone else. Someone real. It was like a breath of fresh hair. Aura María knew what a rarity it was to witness even a touch of authenticity from anyone so far up the ladder, especially when it came to a man whose entire life seemed to be a convoluted PR stunt. She felt like leaning forward and kissing him. There were eyes on them, though, and that was enough to make her hold back, at least for the time being.

Aura María turned her attention to the side of the room and took notice of Queen Maeve staring in their direction. At that distance, she found it hard to make out her expression. Maeve didn’t seem happy, though, and it made her stomach twist with unease. Homelander and her had ended things amicably, as far as the public was aware, but Aura Maria wasn’t naive enough to take that at face value.

She wasn’t into gossip as a general rule and preferred to avoid drama whenever it was possible. No matter how rich or devilishly handsome he was, she wasn’t thrilled by the idea of fighting with anyone over a man, especially with a supe who could easily crush her like a bug. Aura María shook herself, looking away. They were broken up and had been for some time. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“You know, for a white boy who’s never danced before, you’re doing really good,” she said, allowing the gentle sway of the music to carry her through the crowded room. She kept a tight grip on Homelander’s hip and forearm, taking him along for the ride. He visibly struggled not to preen. How strange. The strongest man in the whole wide world, and a few words of acknowledgment were enough to make him flush. Or was he just playing coy?

“No need to appease my ego, María. I know I suck,” Homelander said, but she could tell that it was a pretense. Just another line out of his well-rehearsed repertoire. Aura María felt her lips tilting downwards. It was disappointing to see the mask slipping back on, and after catching only a few fleeting glimpses.

“Not at all,” she replied, just to be nice. “I’m having fun, either way.”

When they left the gala, there was a crowd full of reporters and paparazzi waiting outside. Homelander effortlessly dodged their questions. His hand stayed on the small of her back as he guided Aura María forward, almost hunching over her, as if sheltering her from the camera flashes.

It seemed news anchors were in for a field day. Aura María was always amazed by how easily Vought’s flimsy attempts at playing the inclusivity card worked in their favor. Putting some salsa on and serving piña colada at a party during Latino Heritage Month was really all it took these days.

Aura María wished she could play along with her date - smile and wave at the ravenous beast of the American press, the way she’d seen public figures and talent do countless times over the years. It didn’t come naturally to her, though. She had always felt more comfortable standing in the corner.

Homelander opened the door of the cab, leading her inside, but Aura María was too irritated to appreciate the gesture. She tried not to think too hard about what the tabloids were going to say about them tomorrow morning. Homelander spotted leaving party with mystery woman was a real possibility. On the other hand, it could be something along the lines of Rising Director María Dávila reportedly dating Homelander, 17 years her senior. Both were offensive and off-putting in their own way.

She gave Homelander a glance over. He appeared unbothered, leaning against the back of the seat with his eyes closed. She allowed herself to stare while his guard was down. He was a beautiful man. It was the reason she agreed to go out with him despite their age difference, which wasn’t small. So much so that Homelander had already been quite a celebrity when she was still in elementary school.

He looked remarkably well for his age, although he had some wrinkles across his forehead, as well as prominent laughter lines. Aura María had always assumed that he was a natural blonde, but the darker, brown roots of his hair were now noticeable to her, even in the dim light. She found it odd to realize that a man who was often advertised as the pinnacle of masculinity actually wore makeup and dyed his hair.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” Aura María asked. Homelander turned to look at her and blinked as if he’d forgotten he had company.

“What’s that?”

“The cameras? The crowds following you around? Seems exhausting.”

“Nah, I’m used to it. Sides, what’s wrong with giving the people what they want?” Homelander said with a self-satisfied smile.

Aura María arched an eyebrow, bemused. “Man, you’re insufferable.”

“And still you agreed to go out with me, so what does that say about you?” Homelander’s expression didn’t change, but a trace of laughter shone in his clear blue eyes. He was teasing her.

Aura Maria felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she turned towards the window to hide it. “Nothing good, I can tell you that.”

“Here we are. Home sweet home,” Homelander said, and although his voice was full of warmth, something about it sounded artificial to her ears. It was the same tone she used when giving an interview at NBC, or congratulating the crew after a long day at set. Something to pick at later.

“I can’t believe you actually live here,” Aura María said, stepping out of the cab to look up at Vought Tower.

“Nice, isn't it?”

“Nice isn’t the word I’d use.” Aura María wrinkled her nose. “Looks like something out of a bad 90s movie set in the distant future of 2001.”

Homelander laughed, taken aback. “Well, that’s one way to describe it.”

He took her by the waist, guiding her through the main entrance and into the lobby. It was around three in the morning, and there was no one about but some security guards and the unlucky receptionist who got the Friday night shift. Although she looked tired, she still smiled brightly at them when they approached her desk. She had Aura María sign a visitor form before letting her through, which wasn’t terribly inconvenient as far as safety protocols went.

“Thanks, doll. Always great seeing you!” Homelander said, playfully pointing at the receptionist. She blushed, struggling and failing to hide a toothy grin. Aura María noticed that he didn’t address her by name, though. She wondered if he was always so recklessly extroverted, or if he was putting up a facade for her benefit.

“So, waiting for the elevator is a drag,” she said after fifteen minutes had passed, “I should have figured.”

“I usually just fly in.” Homelander was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked just mildly irritated by the inconvenience. “Didn’t think you would appreciate that, though.”

Aura María blinked.

“You flying me into your bedroom in the middle of the night? The one that’s like, on the 99th floor?” She tried to picture it and actually felt a shiver run down her spine. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d probably have a panic attack halfway there.”

“Come on, I’ve never let anyone fall.” Homelander grinned, but then seemed to reconsider his words. “Not accidentally, anyway.”

Aura María stared, unsure if he was joking. “Right.”

Finally, they stepped into the elevator. They waited for the doors to close, and it was only then that Homelander leaned forward to kiss her. Aura María got on her heels, putting her hands over his shoulders to keep herself upright. She was suddenly very aware of their stark difference in height. He put his hands around her waist, pushing her against the wall, and it was enough for her to feel how strong he truly was. It was a bit dizzying.

Not too long ago, if someone had asked Aura María if she was into the big, muscly type she would have replied with a quick no and a side-eye. Usually, she wasn’t even into white men, especially not blondes. She’d only ever gone out with other Latinos, and more often than not they’d been of a darker complexion. Dating outside of her culture was an issue for her, and she even found no sabo kids were a bit of a turn-off.

There was something different about Homelander, though. Something she couldn’t quite express in words. Aura María put a hand around his jaw, angling his face slightly upwards to bite into his bottom lip. Although he could have fought off her grip more than easily, he allowed her to and it made heat build in her lower belly. Homelander’s hands were trailing down her sides. Although a part of her wanted to feel his bare hands over her skin, she couldn’t deny that the feel of the soft leather of his gloves was also thrilling.

Suddenly, the elevator was grinding to a stop, but a quick glance at the button panel confirmed that they hadn’t reached their floor yet. Auria María struggled not to let the annoyance show on her face. Reluctantly, they pulled apart. The doors slid open revealing a petite blonde girl standing in the hall. She was dressed in pajamas and by the startled look on her face, it was clear she hadn’t expected to bump into anyone at such late hours.

“Homelander,” she said, slightly bowing her head.

“Starlight,” he replied, smiling down at her. Something about the expression looked weird and much too tight. Aura María recognized the name and immediately understood why.

Great, she thought, another ex-girlfriend.

Although she'd heard a lot about her, Aura María had never worked with the infamous Annie January on set. Largely because of how unwilling Vought’s new rising star had been to participate in Super in America or any other documentary regarding her personal life. By the time she finally relented, Aura María had moved on to new projects. Her days of waiting at someone’s beck and call were over, even if they were a member of the Seven.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the elevator stopped and the three of them stepped out. As she walked away, following Homelander down the hall, Aura María got the distinctive feeling that she was being watched. Looking back, she noticed Starlight staring after them, a deep frown on her face. If she hadn’t known any better, Aura María would have thought that she looked worried.

“You don’t really get along with any of your exes, do you?” She asked once they made it to the end of the corridor.

Homelander stopped before the door of his penthouse, then offered her a smile a bit too wide. “Come on, now. Why would you say that?”

Aura María stared at him, unimpressed.

“That girl looked like she was walking into the elevator at gunpoint.”

“Oh, well, Starlight is…” Homelander trailed off, making a face. “She’s a sweetheart, don’t get me wrong. She just didn’t take the breakup very well.”

Aura María hummed, seeming skeptical.

“That’s a major red flag, you know? When all your relationships end badly.”

Homelander huffed a breath through his nose, and she realized, perhaps a bit too late, that she should back off. He was starting to look genuinely irritated. When flirting with overly confident men, Aura María often came across as a smartass. A lot of them were weirdly into it, and it was always fun to take them down a notch. She wasn’t looking to overstep and ruin the night with her antics, though.

“You get along with all of your exes, then?” Homelander asked, narrowing his eyes at her. Aura María made a face and he noticed. “What?”

“Nuthin.” She swayed back and forth on her heels, flashing him a teasing little smile. “Are you gonna invite me in?”

“Do you want me to?” Homelander was staring intently at her. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, just barely.

“I don’t know,” Aura María replied, shrugging. “Maybe I came all the way up here just for a goodnight kiss.”

Homelander laughed, shaking his head. Aura María got on her heels, leaned forward, and just like that they were kissing again. He made a pleased sound at the back of his throat, and something inside her unraveled. This was a point of no return. Aura María was mildly surprised by her lack of fear. Shivering, she put her arms around Homelander’s neck, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t like her at all, and she’d been certain that she would end up backing down at the very last second.

That was certainly out of the question now.

“I don’t think you did,” Homelander said in a rough voice, pinning her down with those sharp blue eyes of his. Aura María laughed, a little breathless.

He opened the door of his penthouse and bowed, gesturing for her to go first. It was such a goofy, chivalrous thing to do that she found herself stepping inside, biting back all the teasing remarks at the tip of her tongue. Homelander hummed, looking terribly pleased with himself, and followed her inside.

“You know, this place looks exactly how I pictured it,” Aura María said, tilting her head to the side as she stared into the cold marble eyes of a George Washington bust. She took a sip of her drink - Bourbon with coke and a dash of lemon. Turns out the Homelander was good at making cocktails. Quite the feat for someone who didn’t drink himself.

She could feel her host standing behind her, eyes burning at the back of her head. Although she was itching to do just that, she refused to turn around.

“Really?” Homelander said, breath ghosting by the shell of her ear. She wondered if he was getting tired of it. This quiet game of cat and mouse.

“Yeah, the only thing that’s missing is a confederate flag and a closet full of shotguns,” Aura María deadpanned.

“That’s not fair,” Homelander replied, but she could hear the amusement lining his words. “You make it sound like I’m some kinda redneck.”

“Nah, you’re worse than that. Rednecks actually believe the garbage they spew.” She turned around, arching her eyebrows in a way that she’d been told many times was infuriating. “You’re just in it for the money.”

“Not just the money, chica,” Homelander said, winking at her. He then gestured at the room, at the American flag hanging from the wall, at the statues and paintings of the founding fathers. “It’s the glory, the power, the fame - all the pillars of this great nation. Anyone tells you they made it this far up looking for anythin’ else, you can bet your ass they’re lying.”

Aura María blinked rapidly, caught off guard. With a start, she realized that this was probably the most transparent he’d been with her all night, yet the meaning of his every word was diluted by banter and unfashionable flirting. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. In lieu of a better response, she laughed.

“Man, you’re such a goddamn cynic, it almost makes you sound deep,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. If Homelander was offended by her reaction, he didn’t let it show. He raised a gloved hand, then caressed the line of her jaw with his index finger. There was a twinkle in his eye.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, missy,” he said, and they were standing so close now, their noses were practically touching.

“No? I rather think it will,” Aura María replied.

“Mmn, you’ve got me all figured out, don’t ya?”

“Not my fault you’re so damn predictable.” Homelander’s hands trailed up her sides, then stopped just below her breasts, caressing her with fingers clad in red leather. Aura María shivered, biting into her lower lip. “Do you keep a bible on your nightstand, too?”

“Maybe I do,” Homelander said, and something in his voice, in the forced levelness of it, made her look up. The waiting game was over. She could see it in the arch of his eyebrow, the unusual intent of his gaze. “Wanna check?”

Aura María hesitated, then. There was no turning back, once she followed him into the bedroom. Although her stomach was fluttering with excitement, there was also a hint of fear. Homelander was stronger than her. There was not a single living creature on earth who could stand up to him, as a matter of fact, and she’d never been anything of a fighter. If she wanted to stop or slow down, she would be at his mercy. The thought made her unexpectedly anxious.

Backing away wasn’t yet out of the question. She could make up some excuse, hail a cab, and call it a night. He probably wouldn’t stop her. Instead, Aura María put her hands on Homelander’s chest, offering him a knowing little smile. Her throat felt very dry. “Let’s see it, then,” she said.

Aura María approached the nightstand and indeed found a bible resting on top of it, small, black, and wrapped in leather. She opened it to the bookmarked page and read the first verses out loud: “The dragon stood on the shore of the sea. And I saw a beast coming out of the sea. It had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on its horns, and on each head a blasphemous name.”

Aura María saw Homelander and the other members of the Seven in her mind’s eye, walking into the set wearing their garish, custom-made suits. Easygoing, chirpy, and deceitfully polite when the cameras were rolling, but just as quick to make snide comments and lash out at the crew when the smallest thing didn’t go their way. Superpowers or not, they were still talent. Pretty faces with fragile egos and low emotional intelligence, usually from troubled backgrounds, charismatic yet easy to manipulate. Add Compound V and it makes for a dangerous combination.

For a whole second, Aura María considered asking Homelander if he had similar thoughts whenever he read those verses. They probably meant something to him, if he cared to bookmark the page. Then she realized what a terrible idea that was, and whistled appreciatively instead. “That sure makes for a nice bedtime reading,” she said, very aware of Homelander’s breath at the shell of her ear.

“It does, actually,” he replied, pressing soft lips to her neck. “Keep going.”

Aura María shivered, hanging tightly onto the book’s leather cover. Homelander bit her earlobe playfully, sinking sharp canines into the soft flesh. There was a stark contrast between the man standing behind her, caressing her sides and leaving a trail of hickeys down her neck, and the supe who always walked into her set wearing a disarming smile, telling corny dad jokes and waving at the crew. This felt real. Without giving it a thought, she kept on reading.

“The beast I saw resembled a leopard but had feet like those of a bear and a mouth like that of a lion. The dragon gave the beast his power and his throne and great authority.” Aura María could see Homelander through the mirror hanging from the wall. He’d hidden his face on the curve of her shoulder, pressing wet kisses to the exposed skin there. Slowly but skillfully, he undid the buttons of her shirt. Once it was open all the way, he pulled down Aura María’s bra, exposing her breasts.

The cold of the room hit her, and she trembled. A part of her felt like she ought to complain or cover herself again. No man had ever seen her as she was now. She stared at Homelander’s reflection as he fondled her breasts with gloved hands, pinching her nipples experimentally. A long sigh escaped her. Aura María had been waiting for a long time to experience something like this, and now that it was happening it almost didn’t seem real. It felt so right, for him to be the first.

“One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal wound, but the fatal wound had been healed. The whole world was filled with wonder and followed the beast,” she read, breath hitching in her throat as she felt Homelander pulling her skirt down.

Her underwear followed quickly after, and just like that he completely exposed her, without going through the trouble of actually undressing her. She felt hot all over. Homelander took off his gloves then, placing them on the nightstand. He trailed his hands down her chest and then her stomach, stopping just inches away from her pussy. Aura María spread her legs slightly wider.

“People worshipped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they also worshipped the beast and asked ‘who is like the beast?’, ‘who can wage war against it?’” She said, licking her dry lips as she passed the page. Homelander tapped her clit a few times with his middle finger, then slowly rubbed a circle around it. Aura María made a pleased sound in the low of her throat, tilting her head back. Then he was going deeper, slowly rubbing his fingers back and forth between the folds of her pussy.

“The beast was given a mouth to utter proud words and blasphemies and to exercise its authority for forty four months.” Finally, Homelander pushed a finger inside and then another. Aura María could feel herself clamping around them. She moaned, pushing her lower body against him. “Mmn, that’s real nice.”

“None of that.” Homelander spanked her then, just once. It stung. Aura María thought that she ought to be offended, but for some reason, she wasn’t. She pushed her hips backward, looking for friction, but Homelander’s hand pressing against her back was enough to halt her attempts. “Be a good girl, keep reading for me.”

“It was given power to wage war against God’s holy people and to conquer them. And it was given authority over every tribe, people, language and nation.” Aura María trembled, forcing herself to stand straight again.

She heard Homelander undoing his belt, and then lowering the multiple zippers of his suit. Anticipation was building in her lower stomach. He reached for the first drawer of the nightstand and pulled a condom out of a little plastic box. For a few moments nothing happened. Then Aura María felt the head of Homelander’s cock brushing against her opening.

“All inhabitants of the earth will worship the beast - all whose names have not been written in the Lamb’s book of life, the Lamb who was slain from the creation of the world,” Aura María said, words stumbling out of her mouth in husky breaths. Homelander was pushing inside slowly, and he felt big and almost unbearably warm. She was trembling all over. Panicking, she reached backward and put a hand on his hip, stilling him. Without her explaining, he understood and waited.

It took her a few moments to fully relax. Once she did, Aura María pressed her back to Homelander’s chest, guiding him forward. She felt full in a way she never had before. When he started thrusting, she made a pleased sound, pushing back against him. “Whoever has ears, let them hear,” she said, much too conscious of the soft sounds of their bodies coming together, her quiet moans, and Homelander breathing raggedly against her ear.

“If anyone is to go into captivity, into captivity they will go. If any, ugh-” Aura María gulped her words as she felt a hand wrapping around her throat. It squeezed just hard enough to make a statement, but not to cut off her breathing. Her hands were shaking and still she held onto the Bible, barely managing not to sink her nails into the leather. She wasn’t even religious. Not anymore. Still, she felt compelled to play along - to indulge in this little game the Homelander seemed to enjoy so much.

Aura María could feel her breasts jiggling with the force of his thrusts. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the reflection of their bodies moving together, just shadows and lights swaying on the surface of the mirror. She closed her eyes tightly, too unused to the idea of sharing her body with someone else - too embarrassed to witness herself surrendering, so freely, to his touch. Tears threatened to spill, but Aura María quickly blinked them away. She had really been waiting for a long time.

“If anyone is to be killed with the sword, with the sword they will be killed,” she whispered, then let go of the book, too shaky to keep holding it up. It landed on the carpet, barely making a sound.

Homelander lifted her from the ground, slamming her onto his cock in a few quick successions before coming. The pressure around Aura María’s neck increased to an almost alarming degree. It slacked off after a few seconds, and only then could she feel her climax washing over her. It was a strange, overwhelming feeling. Nothing like the orgasms she had coaxed out of herself in the past.

For a while they stood in silence, catching their breaths. Then Homelander pulled out and backed away. Suddenly, the chill of the room hit her and Aura María felt very self-conscious about the state she was in. Although she didn’t really mind her nakedness, she felt a bit silly - being essentially dressed but showing all her intimate parts. In a daze, she started buttoning her shirt back up. Just as she was about to pull up her underwear, though, she was stopped by a hand circling her wrist.

“Aw, shucks,” Homelander said. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

Unsure what he meant, Aura María turned around. She gave herself a moment to take in his features - the strong jawline and hooded blue eyes, the slicked-back blonde hair that didn’t match his brown eyebrows, the long eyelashes and thin lips. He truly was beautiful. Aura María put her hands on Homelander’s chest, caressing him with the pads of her fingers. Unlike hard, compact muscle, what she touched was leathery and unusually soft. She wondered if it was padding.

“Not at all, I had fun,” she said, smiling. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting the Homelander to have a blasphemy kink, to be honest, but maybe I should have.”

He looked skeptical, for some reason. “So, you’re not in pain?”

“No.” Aura María frowned. “Why?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Aura María followed Homelander’s gaze and was startled to see a bit of blood running down her thighs. She’d gotten so into it, the pain hadn’t even registered. Heat rose to her cheeks. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s normal, ya know? The first time?” Aura María said, leaning down and pulling the rest of her clothes back up.

Homelander frowned, blinking at the choice of words. She could clearly see the moment understanding dawned on him. He shifted where he stood, hands firmly clasped in front of him as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. He opened his mouth, closed it, then cleared his throat. “You, ah… you didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but ya know. It’s whatever.” Aura María shrugged, feigning a nonchalance she didn’t actually feel. “Virginity’s a construct.”

Homelander laughed, taken aback. “Oh, wow. Right.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, it’s just - young people these days,” Homelander said, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. “I swear I can’t keep up!”

He smiled broadly at her, showing a perfect row of white, pointy teeth. Aura María felt a pang in her chest and did everything she could to shake off the feeling of betrayal. There it was again - the persona, and not the man underneath. Homelander headed to the bathroom with the condom in hand, presumably to dispose of it. Aura María felt her legs starting to shake, so she laid down on the bed to get some rest. She could hear water running, and then the sound of a blow-dryer.

After a few minutes, Homelander came back. It was clear from his refreshed appearance that he’d taken a quick shower. He was wearing a new suit and had the old one hanging from his forearm, neatly folded. Aura Maria made a very conscious effort not to comment on how weird that was. His hair looked softer and fluffier, free of whatever products he used to slick it back. She should have suspected that America’s Number One Hero used a blow-dryer. His undercut always looked much too perfect. She wondered if he had a skincare routine too.

“You don’t mind if I lay down for a bit, do you? I’m beat,” she said, unsure of what to expect. If he would let her stay the night, or at least pay for a cab to come pick her up. There was a knot at the pit of her stomach.

Homelander was staring at her strangely, as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he went to the mini fridge and pulled out two water bottles. Handing her one, he settled on the bed beside her. Aura Maria gulped down more than half of her bottle, only then realizing how thirsty she’d become. For a while, they lay there in silence.

“You really should have said something.”

Although she'd been expecting them, Aura Maria still felt her hackles rising at the words. “Why?”

“I wouldn’t have…,” Homelander trailed off, and she found it so strange to see him hesitate. He cleared his throat and tried again. “If I’d known, I would have gone about it… differently.”

Aura Maria’s lips twisted downwards. She kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. “I told you, man. You didn’t hurt me.”

“It isn’t about that.”

“What is it, then?” Aura Maria replied, growing frustrated. She shouldn’t have said anything. “You had a good time, so did I. That’s what we both wanted. What difference does it make if I’d never done it before?”

Homelander blinked at her. “Because… women remember their first.”

“Oh? Only women?” A contentious smile unfolded across Aura Maria’s face. She couldn't help it. At times like these, it felt like the only way she knew how to communicate with others was through confrontation. “So you don’t remember yours, then?”

“We are not talking about me,” Homelander replied, slowly and without a hint of inflection.

“Yeah, sure.”

Despite her biting words, there was a deep coldness spreading through Aura Maria’s body. It felt like she may start shaking any second now. She wasn’t going to let him see how much his questioning was affecting her, though, or how much it mirrored her own inner voice.

“Come on, spit it out. What’s actually bothering you?” She snapped. “Is it how kinky the whole thing was? Because I was into it. What, you think it would have been better if we had done the missionary by candle lights, covered the bed with some goddam rose petals?”

“Yes, I do,” Homelander replied without missing a beat. She would have thought that he was joking, if it weren’t for the serious look on his face. It gave her pause. For once, Aura Maria couldn't tell whether he was being authentic or if this was yet another performance. She reached out, caressing the line of Homelander’s jaw with the tip of her fingers.

“Come on, look at it from my perspective. I got wined and dined, danced at a nice party, and now I’m in a lavish penthouse, laying in bed with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” she said, and that was enough for Homelander to blush again. Talent was never immune to flattery. “I mean, most of the first-time stories I’ve heard are cringey as hell, either way. Even if shit doesn't work out, at least I got a nice memory out of it, ya know?”

Homelander stared at her for a long moment, seeming to consider her words. “Okay,” he said eventually, “you do make a good case for yourself.”

“I sure do,” Aura Maria replied, relaxing. She wasn’t sure who exactly she had been trying to appease - him or herself.

“How old are you, again?” Homelander asked, frowning.

“Twenty-six,” she replied, reluctantly.

“So… you waited.” Homelander looked uncomfortable now. “A bit longer than most. Why now?”

Aura María hesitated. She herself wasn’t sure why she had chosen to have her first time one random Friday night, in what was essentially a casual hook-up with a co-worker. Even now it made little sense to her, especially after waiting so long.

“Maybe I just like you that much,” she said with a smile, but the words tasted like ashes in her mouth.

She knew that’s what he wanted to hear - that he was man enough to charm it out of her, to make her give up what she hadn't allowed anyone else to take. All night she had been scrutinizing his every word and action, salivating at the sight of even the smallest hint of humanity in him, but now she was the one hiding behind a mask.

“We barely know each other,” Homelander replied, unmoved, as if he could see right through it. In an impulse, Aura Maria leaned forward to kiss him, treading her fingers through his soft blonde hair. There was a troubled look in his eyes when they parted.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Aura Maria said with a soft smile. “I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. I’ve been waiting for the right guy and the right time for a while now, and it just… never happened. I got fed up with it. Then you asked me out and I couldn't think of a reason not to.”

“So, you're saying if you had come as, I dunno, the Deep’s plus one, the outcome would have been the same? Good to know.”

“Now, you're just twisting my words.”

“Right,” Homelander said, puffed out, but there was a teasing edge to his voice. “I hope I didn't disappoint, though?”

“So far you haven't.”

Once Aura Maria had worn her capacity for restraint like a badge of honor, probably an aftereffect of being raised in a radical Christian home. Although she considered herself an atheist now, she was very aware of the consequences her upbringing had on her love life. She was tired of feeling like a nun willing her life away at a convent, though. When Homelander unbuttoned her shirt again, circling her nipple with the tip of a curious tongue, she didn’t stop him.

It was as good a time as any to break the habit.

#homelander x oc #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #homelander #antony starr #the boys fanfic #hispanic oc #latina oc #hispanic reader #latina reader #fine I'll create my own content #lena writes #spicy content #my lover's got humor #spanish harlem mona lisa #homelanderxvenezuelanoc #homelanderxoc

79 notes · View notes