#join in the singing with enthusiasm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

05. sharing a bed series ; skz ; han

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 5/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: han jisung/reader content info: dom!reader. sub!jisung. sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. past misunderstandings, grudges, bickering. femdom feat: face slapping, face sitting, hair pulling, choking, riding, denial-n-cumming-anyway, kneeling, more pussy eating. this one is a little longer. teehee :)

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight…”

Chan’s voice message crackles through your phone speaker but you can barely hear him over the bustling airport. You wait until you are outside in the pick-up zone to try listening again. It is marginally quieter out here, cars coming and going, light snowfall brightening the winter night. With your luggage at your feet, you replay his voice mail.

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight. Something came up at work and I’m not gonna be able to pick you up. I’m really sorry ‘bout it, mate. Jisung is on his way to get you. I know, I know, but he’ll get you home, yeah? If you’re still mad tomorrow, I’ll take you to lunch and you can kill me there. Buh-byyeeeee!”

Oh, that son of a bitch.

The message ends just as a pair of headlights flash over you. You can see through the front window but despite the direct eye contact Jisung still feels the need the honk the horn not once, not twice, but three times.

You stand there with your arms hanging helplessly at your sides. Snow falls on your head and a frown darkens your whole face. Jisung just smiles and waves like an idiot, honking the horn again.

I am going to kill Chan, you think to yourself.

Jisung loves putting you in situations where you are the unrepentant supervillain of his life, so ignoring him and getting in a cab would just play into his horrible little hands. He might look unassuming in his puffy coat and backwards cap, might look soft and friendly with his fair hair and plushy pink smile, might look innocent with his big brown eyes peering at you with cartoonishly saccharine enthusiasm, but in reality none of that is true.

Han Jisung is the worst.

Han Jisung is your nemesis.

Han Jisung honks the horn again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shout. You roll your eyes and heft your luggage over your shoulder, stomping with an incredible degree of petulance for a woman of your age. You toss your bag in the trunk then slide into the passenger seat.

Jisung honks again.

“Hello, hello, welcome to Flight H.A.N with Jisung airlines, this is your pilot speaking—”

You turn on the radio to shut him up. You are not in the mood for his shenanigans.

Jisung cringes with theatrical chagrin.

“Yikes,” he says with a bubbly laugh. “Tough crowd.”

“Just drive.”

“Yes, mistress, right away, mistress, Jisung lives to serve his mistress, please don’t hurt Jisung or leave him out in the cold tonight—”

You thunk your head against the headrest, glaring ahead as Jisung smoothly joins the traffic flow despite his nonsensical rambling.

You vaguely remember a time when Jisung was shy, back before he made it his life mission to send you hurtling into an annoyance-induced death. You also vaguely remember a time you liked him, him and his quietness, him and his quirky humour, him and his big, stupid, brown eyes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jisung sings along with the radio so you flip the station to one with talking. He strums his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed and eyebrows lifted. He casts you a few side glances that you pointedly ignore. When you see him open his mouth, you hold up a finger.

“Do not even think about it,” you say. “Whatever you were about to say or do… Don’t.”

He presses his lips together and makes an obnoxiously loud pop.

“Kk,” he says. “This should be a fun half hour.”

The airport is outside of the city, a half-hour drive to your downtown apartment. Usually. The weather has traffic horrifically backed up. Half an hour comes and goes and you are barely out of view of the airport.

“We could play a game,” Jisung says, looking at you sideways. “I spy with my little—”

“Nope.”

“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.” He nods, strumming the steering wheel again.

The radio blathers on, you barely listening. You scroll through your phone until there are zero notifications, then you scroll through your photo album just for something to look at. Jisung hums to himself and you try not to get annoyed all over again. You exploding at something so inconsequential would give him way too much satisfaction.

The snow comes down harder. It pulls your attention from your phone to the blustery world outside. Everything is a harsh grey, the dark night foggily illuminated by the white snow. Even Jisung is concentrating now, his brow furrowed as he stares through the front window.

“Shit,” he says.

He changes stations to catch a road update. Your jaws drop in unison when the reporter mentions a thirteen hour delay on the main bridge into the city.

“Thirteen fucking hours?” you say. It comes out wheezy. “It’s winter! Why are they always so surprised by the fucking snow! God! What the hell are we gonna do?”

“We’re not going anywhere near the bridge, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Jisung says, flipping the car into reverse and immediately changing course.

“How else are we getting downtown?”

He looks at you like you’re so stupid that he can’t believe it, his eyebrows jumping up his face.

“Uh, hello, welcome back to town, it’s snowing here,” Jisung says. “We’re going downtown tomorrow when it won’t kill us or trap us in a car—”

“I want to go home—”

“Do you want to spend thirteen hours in a car with me?” Jisung asks. “Because that’s what going home will involve right now, k?”

He sounds terse. You feel a little better when he acts short with you too, more justified in your own rudeness.

“Fine,” you say. “What are we doing then?”

A ten minute trip turns into an hour long drive with traffic delays, but eventually you are rolling into the snow-covered parking lot of the only motel with a vacancy sign. You and Jisung do not speak, stepping out of the car and crunching along the snow in silence. The motel parking lot is washed a golden colour, the yellow balcony lights beaming over the white snow. It holds the promise of warmth. You hurry inside.

You shake yourself off in the tiny entryway while Jisung dings the desk bell. Someone appears to check you in.

“You’re a lucky couple,” she says. “Lots of folks have stopped because of the weather. We have exactly one room left available. It’s a nice cozy double bed. Sounds good?”

“Ummm…” You join Jisung at the desk, a million frantic thoughts running through your brain. “Hold on, we’re not—”

“Did you hear that, baby?” Jisung says with exaggerated fondness, because he can’t help but taunt you. “We’re a lucky couple. Isn’t that just our luck the only room available has one bed?”

You step on his foot deliberately and he yelps.

“Is there really no other option?” you ask the attendant with some degree of desperation.

“No, sorry.” She gives you a funny look but shakes her head. “I doubt you’ll have better luck finding a room anywhere else tonight. You can have this one or enjoy a car nap.”

“My beautiful wife and I are happy with a double,” Jisung says, already holding out his credit card. “Right, baby?”

You smack his ass, hard and swift. His eyes widen. You smirk.

“Right, baby,” you say with a snarl.

Tonight’s only saving grace is the hot water; you enjoy a long shower before changing into sleep shorts and a camisole. You join Jisung in the room, finding him sprawled on the double bed with air pods in his ears. He tossed his hat somewhere and is laying there in jeans and a t-shirt – remarkable, as you thought he might strip to his underwear just to be annoying. But no, he lays there peacefully. His fair hair is darker at the root, neatly framing his unfortunately handsome face. He has one arm flexed under his head, the muscle more pronounced than you remember it being. His eyes are closed as he nods along to the music.

You grab a pillow and thwack him in the gut. It startles him to attention, a strangled sound leaving his throat.

“You stay on that side of the bed and you do not move, got it?” you say.

He sticks his tongue out at you.

“Very mature,” you say.

You lay down with your back to him. After twenty minutes, he still has his bedside light on so you snap at him. He whines like a little baby but turns it off, leaving just his phone beaming at his face. You can hear his music but say nothing.

You can’t sleep. You want to roll over but you absolutely refuse to face him.

His phone screen finally goes dark after god knows how long and he puts it aside. There is a long stretch of silence in the dark. You swear you have never been so uncomfortable laying on this side in all your life. Knowing you will not be able to sleep without turning at least once, you decide to roll over. You figure Jisung laid down with his back to you anyway.

He didn’t. He is staring right at you, his big eyes making him look like a pathetic little lemur gawping at a human in the dark.

“Why don’t you like me?” Jisung says.

“Oh no,” you say, immediately rolling onto your back. “Absolutely not. We are not having a heart to heart.”

“Oh come oooon, please,” he whines. “This is the time and place—”

“It really isn’t—”

“It’s a classic story, a boy, and a girl—”

“I don’t like stories—”

“Forced to share a bed and share their secret feelings—”

“Those feelings are disgust, hatred, and revulsion—”

“Opening their hearts and—whoa, wait, what? Hatred? You hate me?” Jisung pushes himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face.

You try to ignore him and his stupid expressions, glaring at the ceiling as if it can do anything to save you. Your heart is beating fast but it doesn’t feel good. The pounding is coupled with a nauseous turn in your gut.

It is open knowledge that you do not like Han Jisung one bit, but you seldom vocalize it so explicitly. Certainly not to his face. Certainly not beside him in bed.

“That can’t possibly surprise you,” you say.

“Well, it does actually!” Jisung says. “I knew you didn’t like me but hate me? How could you hate me? I’m delightful.”

Even now, the clown is trying to joke. Because that’s all it is to him, isn’t it? Everything is just a joke all the time. Everything and everyone is a punchline waiting to happen. But you aren’t laughing. Your hands close into fists and you dig your nails into your palms to keep your frustration in check. Your neck feels hot and your stomach is still turning. You feel embarrassed about things you haven’t even said yet. Your tongue feels swollen somehow, your throat lined thickly. It takes several deep breaths before you can speak.

“Well,” you say bitterly, “I guess I just can’t help being a massive bitch. The worst you’ve ever met, right?”

There is a beat of silence, then Jisung flips on the bedside light.

You slap your fists down on the bedcovers and glare at him.

“Turn off the light,” you say.

“No way, you were just talking in a voice. What did you mean? Why do you--”

“Jisung, I swear to god, if you don’t turn off that light—”

“Look, can we just—”

You shove the covers down and climb on top of him without thinking, trying to reach the light yourself. He grabs you by the arms and pushes you back. You end up tussling ungracefully, you wriggling around like a worm and Jisung clearly in control but just as clearly trying to go easy on you. It puts you at an impasse. With an angry huff, you push away from him.

“If I said something—” he starts.

You laugh, a joyless cackle.

“If,” you repeat. “You’ve said a lot of somethings over the years, Jisung.”

“I—I didn’t mean it if I—I don’t even know what I—”

You look at him. He seems to be genuinely confounded and more than a little miserable, his eyes darting around as he racks his brain, his brow furrowed with obvious upset. His hand is frozen on his head, a clump of hair feathering through his fingers.

He meets your gaze and you roll your eyes. You feel hot and uncomfortable again, the source of your nausea climbing up and up and up until it is clawing its way past your lips and—

“The day we met,” you say, finally, after years of stamping down the humiliating memory, “you said I was a massive bitch, the worst you had ever met. And it—”

You are not sad. You refuse to be sad. This pain is years old now and it does not hurt you anymore. But you are angry – with him, with yourself, with this whole shitty circumstance, and the angrier you get, the more tears stab at your eyes.

You swallow down a lump in your throat and take a steadying breath. You stare at the wall because his attentive, earnest gaze is too much to bear.

“I know I’m a little awkward when I first meet people,” you say. “I’m shy and weird and sometimes… sometimes people think I’m a bitch when really I’m just quiet. Chan introduced me to you because he said that you were kinda the same, and that we had lots in common, and he thought we would get along. And then we met and—”

“We did,” Jisung says softly.

Your vision is blurry now. You sniff hard, wiping your arm under your nose.

“Yes,” you say. “We did. We got along amazing. We were quiet for a second and then it was like… like we were already friends. As if we always knew each other. I’ve never spoken like that to someone so quickly. It’s like I just forgot to be shy. I was so happy and then—”

“I remember all this,” Jisung says, still sounding confused. “I don’t get it. It was Changbin’s birthday, right? We were talking all night and it was great but then you just left without saying bye. Then the next time we met you already hated me—”

You finally look at him, hitting him with the full force of your emotional expression. He clearly was not expecting the tears because he literally jumps at the sight of you.

“I left after overhearing you talk about me in the kitchen to one of your stupid friends,” you snap. “’That woman is without doubt a totally massive bitch. The worst I’ve ever met.’ And you were laughing. Just… just standing there laughing about it, about me. And I had no idea why. Why? What had I said or done? It was humiliating. And it hurt, and the reason it hurt so bad was because it came from you.” You jab him in the chest, trying to sound angry because your tears are falling now and it just makes you feel pathetic. “It hurt, Jisung,” you say, “because it was you. From anyone else I wouldn’t care. But you were the one person I expected to understand me. The one person who got what it was like. So to hear you saying those things—god. I never wanted to see you again, but then you and Chan started your stupid projects together and I couldn’t get away from you. And you just got more and more in my face no matter what I did—”

“Oh my god.” Jisung slaps both hands to his head. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he is hearing. “Hold on,” he says, abruptly getting out of bed. “Just… just hold on.”

He runs away. You sit there more confused than anything, your face wet, your breathing uneven. He is gone long enough for you to get angry again, glaring at him when he gets back in the bed.

“Here,” he says, giving you the tissue box he evidently retrieved from the bathroom. “Just… here.”

He takes a tissue and awkwardly dabs at your cheek. You snatch it away from him, frowning.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. He gets off the bed again, hovering awkwardly at the side while you wipe your face clean. He waits until you are composed, swaying where he stands, clasping and unclasping his hands. When you stop sniffling, he lets out a huge exhale. “Okay,” he says. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry. And I want to explain, I really do, but… but if I explain, I think it’s only gonna make you upset.”

You give him a very sarcastic look.

“I’m already upset, you stupid jerk,” you say. “Just spit it out so I can go to sleep.”

“Right.” He runs his hand through his hair again. It falls softly down and flutters when he exhales. “God. Okay. This is gonna sound so stupid. But, yeah, okay, I do remember saying that actually. I didn’t know you heard me but… but that’s not an excuse. I know. I shouldn’t have said it at all. I totally do know that. But also… I said it, but I didn’t. What I mean is, what you heard me saying, I was not actually saying.”

You stare at him for a long moment.

“What,” you say, “the fuck?”

He waves his hands around defensively.

“What I mean is,” he says, “and stay with me… but… I actually meant it as a compliment.”

“A compliment,” you say. “A compliment? You called me a massive bitch as a compliment?”

“Yes.”

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” you shout, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.

His reflexes are fast. He ducks and the pillow sails over his head, whacking the blinds with a clatter. He looks there then looks at you, just in time for you to throw the tissue box. He dodges that too, ducking down again. The box hits the radiator and thunks to the ground.

“Okay, listen—” he says.

He is not fast enough when you chuck the second pillow.

“Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he says, holding the offending pillow up in surrender. He tentatively approaches the bed with it, eying you as he gently lays it back down.

You glare.

“I promise I can explain,” he says. “And you’re gonna love this explanation, because it is going to completely and totally humiliate me and you will have something to hold over my head for the rest of your life.”

“I’m listening,” you say. You feel embarrassed about crying so the least he can do is embarrass himself too.

“Thank you,” he says. He gets back on the bed, kneeling and tipping his head back. It looks like he’s praying, gathering the strength to admit whatever he is about to admit.

You cross your arms. You are annoyed he is taking so long and also annoyed that you genuinely want to know. Han Jisung has no problem blurting every stupid thought that crosses his mind, at least when it comes to you, so you cannot begin to imagine what dark secret he can’t bring himself to speak out loud.

You are halfway convinced he is trying to come up with a lie when he finally throws his arms out as if in supplication.

“I’m a fucking freak!” he says, with all the verve and jubilation of hallelujah. He closes his eyes and nods his head. “I’m a pervert and I think with my dick like ninety-eight per cent of the time. The other two per cent of the time I am honestly probably thinking with my prostate, though I haven’t really worked that one out yet completely—”

“What?” Your whole face screws tight with bewilderment. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I love bitches. No wait.” He shakes his head. “That came out wrong. Hold on. I love… well, yeah, no, bitches. Mean girls. Bullies. Catwoman.”

“Catwoman.”

“That whip… t-cha.”

“Jisung—”

“Look I was telling my friend about you because Minho’s an even bigger freak than me. He’s the only one who knows my secret and—”

“Your secret,” you say slowly. “That you… like bitches?”

“That I love bitches,” he says. “When I told him that you were the biggest bitch I ever met, it was because we both knew that what I meant was: holy shit dude, I just found my soulmate, she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, I’m getting married tonight, and if she asked me to tattoo her face on my butt right now I would do it.”

You hate that you laugh, but the comment is so unexpected that it sputters out of you.

Jisung smiles, releasing a pent-up breath of relief.

“You were… are… funny, and smart, and yeah a bit quiet but you still don’t let it stop you from defending yourself or someone else when something is wrong. Remember when you told off that creep at the party? The one who was bugging Felix? You don’t take anyone’s shit and then you just move on quietly like it was nothing. I was obsessed with you from the second we started talking. Then I was a stupid horny pervert and opened my big stupid mouth and now you hate me.”

“I’m still not sure I really get it,” you say, admittedly flustered at his admission. You had no idea Jisung saw you that way. The woman he’s describing does sound pretty amazing, and he sounds sincerely infatuated. When your heart starts skipping beats again, it feels different than before. “Explain,” you say.

He slaps his thighs in a motion of surrender.

“Yup,” he says. “Okay. Fine. Cool. I like when women boss me around. I like when they are mean to me. I like when they hurt me and make me cry. It… it gets my dick hard, okay? I love bitches. I LOVE BITCHES—”

You reach out to slap a hand over his mouth, remembering it’s a motel in the middle of the night.

Jisung’s shoulders jump and he laughs into your hand, clearly embarrassed as he remembers where he is. You laugh in spite of yourself, lowering your hand.

“Oops,” he says.

“Oops,” you reply.

Oops, you misunderstood your eavesdropping.

Oops, Jisung never hated you.

Oops, you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long.

“So just to clarify,” you say. “You’re into, like, female domination stuff, and you called me a bitch as the highest form of compliment in your crazy brain, and then you spent the next two years being as annoying as possible because…”

“I thought you were just, like, crazy edging me or something,” Jisung says, making you laugh helplessly into your hands. He laughs too, even while looking a little pained. “I did! I was like shit, she’s so nasty, she’s really taking me for a fucking ride. I would have kept doing this for the rest of our lives if this conversation didn’t happen. I would’ve been at your wedding like damn, she’s really got me going this time—”

“You’re so stupid,” you say, pushing at his chest without any real animosity.

“I know, I really am,” he says. He draws an X over his chest. “But cross my heart and hope to die, everything I have told you is the complete truth. I’d tell you to slap me because you definitely deserve it but honestly, it would give me a boner and I don’t think either of us wants that since we’re stuck in the same bed all night.”

He says it jokingly, of course. But you can hear the twinge of flirtation and truth under his just kidding.

And maybe you’re still on an adrenaline kick. Maybe your emotions are right at the surface. Maybe you hated him so much because deep down you liked him, and you hated that you liked him because of a misunderstanding.

And maybe, just maybe, those big brown eyes have drawn you in from the second you first saw him.

“Slap you,” you say, as if in deep contemplation. “Slap you where? Your face?”

This clearly catches him off guard. He opens his mouth and a garbled sound comes out. He thumps a fist on his chest.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Sure. Whatever, you know. You know.”

“Mhm.” You move so you are kneeling too, facing each other. You watch as he swallows hard, the gulp going down his throat. All the adrenaline you built up earlier is suffusing into the race of your bloodstream. Heat simmers below the surface of your skin. “And you like that? Getting slapped when you’ve been bad?”

“Oh my god,” he says. “Are you.. are we… is something happening right now? Oh my god. Hold on.” He says that but then all he does is stand up and sit back down again, rekneeling in the exact same position. “Right, okay,” he says. “Slap away.”

You snort, rolling your eyes but smiling. You lift your hand but he is staring at you so expectantly that it just feels weird, not sexy, and you laugh giddily with amusement.

“Aww, come oooon,” he whines, but laughingly too. “Don’t get shy. You were so good at it.”

“I’ve had years of bitchy practice, I guess,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, making him grin. You shake your head. “I dunno. Just. Do something to earn a slap I guess. It’s too weird to just smack you out of nowhere.”

“Do something?” he asks. “Uh, I dunno. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never done anything in my life to earn a slap. I’m seriously the most charming and funny and perfect guy ever and I—”

Your slap him across the face. The sound startles you because it sounds harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Jisung looks genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, his jaw falling open. He blinks himself back into focus and you are about to ask if he’s all right, then he looks at you in a way he has never looked at you before. The desire and desperation of his gaze moves right through you, gathering hot in every intimate place.

“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice a little gravelly as it drops low.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. You reach out to touch his chin, a delicate touch that makes him shiver. You turn his face to look at the faint redness on his cheek. “Can I try again to be sure?”

He nods and swallows again.

You don’t ask for build-up this time. You pull your hand back and bring it down sharply on his cheek.

This time it makes him whimper. It flushes you with heat.

“Oh my god,” you say. “What else?”

“Uh, oh, fuck, um.” He touches his cheek and sucks in a breath. He pushes his hair only for it flop back in place. “Um,” he says. “Choking. F-fingers? Fingers in my mouth... Um, haha, I can’t think. Bondage? Yeah. Erm, denial. Overstimulation. Puuussy… yes, um, pussy. On my face please. Uhh… Punishment. Pulling my hair… Oh, hello.”

You take hold of his shoulders and push, guiding him to lay on his back. He is already panting when you straddle him, his eyes wide when you lean down.

“Do you still hate me?” he asks when you are millimetres away from his mouth.

You pretend to think about it.

“Hm,” you say with obvious theatricality, stealing a page from his book. “Yeah. I hate you so much. You’re my worst enemy. Sorry, baby.”

“That’s hot,” he says with a nervous little giggle. “You’re hot. You know I think—mmmf.”

You interrupt whatever long-winded joke was incoming. He does not protest this interruption as it involves a kiss, a good kiss, a deep kiss, one that pushes his head into the plushness of his pillow, one that has him moaning into your mouth. He lifts his hands to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your bare thighs when you seize his wrists. You shove them into the bed, pinned on either side of his head. He bucks under you, his mouth opening under your kiss. You bite at his bottom lip and drag your teeth, making his hips move even more.

You break away quickly and just as quickly slap him. It knocks a surprised breath out of him, his eyes a bit watery when he looks up at you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” you say. “I’m just getting started.”

“Oh my god.”

You try not to smile but Jisung makes it hard. You feel flushed with excitement, hot with power and anticipation. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and push the hem of his shirt up and over his chest. He whimpers again but doesn’t move, his eyes closing when you hold down his wrists and duck your head.

“Fuck, oh god,” he murmurs, a constant stream of mumbled expletives as your mouth runs over his chest, kissing and licking and biting, teasing him until he can’t help but buck his hips for friction. When you feel him fully hard in his jeans you lean back, smirk, then climb off him. “Oh god, you’re too good at this,” he says, keeping his hands where you left them and gazing at you with wanting eyes.

You blow him a kiss and shimmy out of your shorts and underwear. Thoughtlessly he swings a hand down to touch himself, squeezing his dick through his jeans and groaning.

“Did I tell you that you could—” you start, but he puts his hand back beside his head before you can finish. His smile is far too innocent. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you say.

“Am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” you reply, getting back on top of him. “I still hate you.”

“Oh god, yes,” he says. His hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest. “More.”

“I hate you,” you say, moving until your legs are on either side of his head. “ I hate you so much, Han Jisung. I’m going to ruin you.”

“Fuck.”

He already has his mouth open when you lower onto his face. You grip the headboard and rock yourself over his tongue, back and forth until he finds your rhythm and takes over. What he lacks in precision he compensates with eagerness, licking at you without any care for the mess it makes of him, wet and sloppy and hot as his tongue moves inside you then up and down your pussy, circling your clit, sucking, flicking, back and forth, around and around—

“Oh my god,” you say, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he works, as he moans, as he squeezes your thighs in his hands and drags his tongue all over you. You grip the headboard tight when you come, throwing your head back and grinding down against him.

You lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs. You shuffle back and sit on his abdomen so you can see him, his eyes wide and wet mouth open as he pants. He licks his lips and murmurs please, please, please in a hoarse voice.

“Please?” you repeat, a little out of breath as well.

You swirl your fingers over his bare chest and fiddle with the t-shirt still bunched under his chin. He moves his face wherever you push it, tipping his head back, tilting it to the side. He goes cross-eyed when your fingers dance in front of him, touching his lips. His mouth falls open and his eyes close when you slide two fingers inside his mouth.

“Please what, Jisung?” you ask, slowly finger-fucking his mouth. “What do you want?”

He can’t speak around your fingers so he just whines, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs.

“Oh,” you say. Your giggle is filled with genuine delight, even while your voice is rough. “I see. You want to put your dick inside me, baby? Hmm? You wanna say you’re sorry and that you’ll be good and let me ride you?”

“Good, so good,” he says, drooling around your fingers when you slide them out. He swallows hard, choking on nothing, then nods his head. “Please, please. Yes.”

You lean down and kiss his wet mouth, a chaste peck. You rub the corner of his lips, smiling at his closed eyes and wrecked expression.

“Okay,” you say. “Get ready for me then.”

You have a string of condoms in your luggage, always tucked in the pocket in case of emergency. Emergencies like a snow storm trapping you in bed with your former worst enemy turned lover.

When you get back to him, Jisung is laying there completely naked, flushed and stroking himself as he watches you. He lets you take his hand off his dick, holds you obediently when you guide his hands to your waist. He kisses you when you lean down, a hot and heavy kiss as you straddle him again. It ends when you push him flat and sit back, already grinning because you know you are about to short-circuit his brain.

“Wanna see a trick?” you say, and proceed to put the condom on him with your mouth. You laugh when you see his face after, his mouth hanging open as he blinks at you.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, but laughs a little.

His head thunks back into the pillows when you guide him inside you. You put your hands over his, holding them to your hips as you rock over him. His chest lifts and falls and his eyes close as he concentrates on not rushing your pace. He keeps holding your waist firmly when you slide your hands over his chest.

“Look at me,” you say.

He blinks his eyes open. You smile.

“Good boy.”

He makes a noise that sounds more pained than when you slapped him. It lights up inside you like fire and you move faster, take him deeper. You get a bit dizzy with how good it feels, his dick curving up to drive against the softest, most sensitive part of you, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm. You rub yourself at the same time, looking down at him as he gasps and moans, as he holds your hips and fucks you back.

You bring your hand to his neck and gently circle it, rubbing yourself harder when he whines with chest-deep desperation.

“I—I’m gonna—oh god—” he says, squeezing your hips so tightly that you think it might bruise.

It feels so good, his rough hands coupled with his dick hitting perfectly inside you. Your whole body draws taut for its crest.

“Don’t,” you say, laughing a little, not even to be mean but because it feels so good that you feel giddy. You squeeze his throat and his hips get erratic under you. “Not yet,” you say. “Me first.”

“Oh my god,” he says, looking up at you with frantic eyes. “I—I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“Jisung,” you say, squeezing his throat harder so he makes a choked-up sound that goes straight to your pussy. “Are you gonna be good or bad?”

“I’m—I’m—oh god.”

You stop touching yourself because you know he doesn’t stand a chance outlasting you. You ride him through his orgasm, choking him as he spasms and moans and cries out. His head lifts for a second, his eyes closed and brows furrowed, then he flops back down with an exhausted heave.

His eyes open again, watery and huge.

“Oh fuck,” he says, voice like gravel as you release his throat. A deep breath shudders out of him. “Oh… fuck,” he says, dreamily, smiling, then pouting. “Oh! Fuck!”

You giggle at him managing to say the same thing in three different voices.

You slip your fingers into his hair and tug, yanking his head up. He follows with a gasp.

“I should hit you again for that,” you say.

You slide off him, carefully. He sucks in a ragged, tearful breath when you touch his dick to deal with the condom. After, you rub your palm on the oversensitive head of it, making him grab at you and cry out. It squeezes a tear out of him and you kiss it away.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing him by the hair again. You get off the bed and drag him to follow. “I’m not done with you.”

He is a little shaky and boneless from coming. His footing is unsteady from the moment he touches the ground, moving with thoughtless obedience. He thumps down heavily onto his knees. When he sways, you straighten him. He blinks up at you, on his knees, already nodding.

You put your leg over his shoulder and draw him in. For the second time, he gets you off with his mouth, his hands on your ass and his face buried in your pussy. You sink your fingers in his hair and let it wash over you, humming happily when you are finished.

You lower your leg off his shoulder. Jisung slumps backwards, leaning against the bed and breathing hard, his face and hair a mess.

“Wow,” he says. He looks up at you. “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You laugh, feeling hot and flushed but satisfied.

“Me too,” you say, making him smile.

You help him back into the bed because his legs seem a little numb. You lay beside him, rubbing the inside of his thigh as he kisses all over your face. You giggle then fall into a proper kiss, winding around each other affectionately.

“I’m gonna send Chan a gift basket,” Jisung says, making you snort. “I am! Thank you for having a family emergency, your timing couldn’t be better.”

You tip your head and look at him with confusion.

“Family emergency?” you say. “He told me he was working?”

“Working?” Jisung furrows his brow. “Huh? We don’t have anything coming up at work. He phoned me from the road and said he was heading out to visit family? He said he wouldn’t be back all week-end.”

“He told me he was stuck working and would see me tomorrow,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you slowly put two-and-two and together.

“I didn’t even know why he was asking me and not Changbin or something,” Jisung continues to muse aloud. “He said you were wanting to talk to me, though, so I figured—”

“I never said that! I mean, I’m glad we did but…” You sit up, glaring at the wall.

Jisung bursts into laughter, covering his mouth as he looks at you.

“Did Chan hustle us?” he asks.

“He threw us together in a snow storm so we’d be forced to reconcile!”

“I don’t think Chan can control the weather—”

“Oh, he definitely can. I bet he delayed the bridge himself—”

Jisung laughs some more, kissing the side of your face lovingly while you continue to glare contemptuously at the wall.

“Well,” you say, looking at him. You kiss him sweetly on the nose and he smiles at you. “That’s fine,” you say. “A vacancy for my sworn enemy just opened up. Looks like I found a replacement.”

“I’m good with that,” Jisung says. “But… you’re not allowed to enemy-fuck him like that. That’s just for me, right?”

You settle in his arms, forgetting about Chan for the time being, forgetting to glare, forgetting about everything that happened before tonight. You smile at him, brushing a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead. He is still flushed and beautiful, his hopeful eyes locked on yours. He smiles back.

“Yeah,” you say. “It’s only ever been just you, Jisung.”

He visibly melts, his laugh a breathless thing. He leans in and kisses you and you hold his face, kissing him back. You can feel him smiling against your lips and you smile too.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung x dom!reader #sub!jisung x dom!reader #skz x reader #sub!skz x dom!reader

5K notes · View notes

charlesslut16 · 5 months

Text

-Pregnant christmas-

summary : you and lando visit his family pregnant...

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i am so sorry that i didn't post for two days but i had so much to do with collage that i ahd no time to update.

december masterlist ; masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stepped out of the car, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks as you and Lando arrived at his family's home for Christmas. The air was filled with the scent of pine and anticipation, a light blanket of snow covering the ground, making everything seem like a scene from a holiday card.

The crisp winter air carried the scent of pine and cinnamon as Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, and you, his radiant wife, made your way to Lando's family home for a magical Christmas reunion.

With beautiful snowflakes dancing around you, you approached the door adorned with lights, nestled amidst a snowy landscape, adorned with twinkling lights and wreaths.

Lando squeezed your hand gently as you walked up the front steps, his smile warm and infectious. He was excited to introduce you as his wife and share this special time with his family, especially with a little one on the way.

The house was adorned with twinkling lights, a magnificent tree standing proudly in the corner, adorned with colorful ornaments and tinsel.

Laughter echoed through the halls, and you were immediately enveloped in a flurry of hugs and greetings from Lando's family.

As you entered the cozy home of the Norris family, the warmth of festive cheer enveloped the two of you. Lando's family greeted you with open arms and infectious enthusiasm.

His mom, a bundle of joy and warmth, enveloped you in a tight hug, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Welcome, both of you! Oh, look at that bump," she exclaimed, gently placing a hand on your growing belly, a gesture that made Lando beam with pride. His mother adored you.

Your pregnancy bump, adorned with a festive ribbon, was immediately ushered to the comfiest armchair by Lando's mom, who insisted she would take it easy while the others bustled around, preparing a lavish Christmas feast.

The day was a whirlwind of festive activities. Lando's nieces and nephews eagerly showed you their handmade decorations, each one proudly displaying their artistic skills.

Lando, ever the mischievous one, snuck behind you and whispered silly jokes in your ear, making you burst into fits of laughter. He could be serious if he wanted to be, but you liked him better this way.

Amidst the joyful chaos, you found yourselves in the cozy kitchen, where Lando's dad, an expert in culinary delights, was concocting his famous Christmas dinner.

The aromas of roasting turkey and spices filled the air, and you couldn't resist stealing a bite of the freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter, you were allowed, I mean you were pregnant.

As the day drifted into evening, everyone gathered around the fireplace, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Lando's sister, armed with a guitar, led the family in singing classic Christmas carols.

Lando, ever the enthusiast, joined in, his voice blending harmoniously with the melodies, eliciting smiles and applause from everyone. He truly was an angel, your angel.

Later, you found a quiet moment with Lando by the glowing tree, the twinkling lights casting a magical aura around you both. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and whispered,

"This is perfect, isn't it? Spending Christmas with you and our little one on the way."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion as you rested your head against his chest.

"Absolutely perfect," you whispered back, your heart swelling with love for this man and the family you were becoming a part of.

The evening ended with exchanging heartfelt gifts, laughter, and embraces. Lando's mom pulled you aside, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

"For the little one," she said with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

It was a beautiful little necklace with Norris been standing on it. You knew that either bean would be a girl or a boy, she or he would appreciate and love the lovely gift.

As you and Lando drove back home, the moon lighting the snow-covered landscape, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and happiness.

"I love you, Lan. I hope that we can spend a thousand more Christmas together."

"I love you, angel."

"And I love you, bean," Lando added and gave your bump a little kiss, as he stood at a red traffic light.

The day had been filled with love, warmth, and the promise of new beginnings. And as you both nestled into each other's arms, you knew that this Christmas would be a cherished memory forever etched in your hearts.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 fluff #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #l4ndo #lando norris x y/n #christmas #masterlist

985 notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months

Note

id love to see eddie and a shy!reader at a concert. r is overwhelmed with the crowd and eddie is being his usual lovely reassuring self

love you sm!

ty for ur request! —eddie insists on taking care of you when you get overwhelmed in the middle of a concert. fem!reader, 1.3k

"This is insane, right?" Eddie asks. Or, yells.

The ground thumps with music. The drum feels as though it's being beaten against your own chest, heat at every angle, lights flashing above and roaming downward. You blink against the purples and blues, your hand sweaty in Eddie's.

"I'm sorry!" you shout, nodding down at your joined hands.

Eddie tucks a limp curl behind his ear. "I'm gonna give you the sweatiest kiss anyone's ever given!"

"Gross," you say, a half second before Eddie's pressing his lips to yours. You can feel the vibrations of the instruments through his skin. It almost tickles, but Eddie's rough touch helps.

It's a nice kiss, but there's so much going on. The crowd swells with a unanimous cheer as one song ends and another begins. Eddie yanks himself away from you to grin at the performance, whooping as his favourite guitarist takes centre stage for an intro. You gulp in dank air, the person standing behind you treading on your shoes for the tenth time in as many minutes, the person to your right smelling of pot and beer, sticky thick.

A firm arm curls around you. "You wanna go up on my shoulders?" Eddie asks. He must be pumping with adrenaline, his kisses quick and plentiful over your cheek as you attempt to answer.

"As if, Eds."

"What, you don't think I can get you up there?"

"I know you can't."

Eddie visibly registers your shifting mood. "Hey," he says, giving your shoulders a jog, "are you okay? You look like you're having a whitey without the smoke, babe!"

"I'm okay, I…" You blink sweat from your eyes. "I'm really hot."

"Take your jacket off, baby. I can hold it for you."

You shrug out of your damp jacket but feel the same. Still, when Eddie says, "Better?" you smile and wrap your arm around his.

"I'm good. Now shut up! This is my favourite one!"

You're not telling the truth, but your enthusiasm fools him. Eddie slides an arm behind your back and you hug each other from the side to sing along. You like the music and you love Eddie, you're not interested in ruining the precious couple of hours you have here tonight. You can grin and bear it. You have been for a while.

Or, you think you can, but you feel something warm on your leg, and you know it's just beer spilled from a crushed plastic cup, but your ears ache as the drum solo starts and fireworks burst at the front of the stage less than forty feet away. The crowd closes in. It's too much.

"Eddie, I think," —he turns to look at you, eyes sparkling— "I need to go to the bathroom. Okay?"

"I'll come with you!"

"No! No, stay here, we'll never get this close to the front again!"

"Are you kidding? What if something happened to you? I'd lose my mind!" Eddie nudges you toward the back of the venue. "Babe, I know the kind of creeps that hang around, I'm not letting you go by yourself!"

You're sick of shouting at him to be heard. "No, I'll hold it!" You won't ruin his night. "I'm okay, I– I swear!"

"Don't be stupid, let's go! It'll be nice to have a break from Doctor Marten," he says, looking quickly behind his shoulder at the perpetrator in question, the guy who keeps nipping your ankles with his thick gummy soles.

You shake your head. Eddie shakes his head back at you incredulously, twining your fingers together as he starts to fight his way through the crowd, dragging you with him. People are ten times as likely to let you move backwards rather than toward the front, and soon the air is cooling, your skin damp and cold as the fresh breeze finally reaches you. The crowd thins. You can stretch your arms out without touching anyone for the first time in nearly an hour.

The relief is enough to have you closing your eyes, savouring the sudden lack of input.

Eddie pulls your hand between both of his, calluses and rings and all the things you love about him scratching your hands as he squeezes you. "Feel better?"

You should've known he knew. Nodding sheepishly, you say, "Yeah."

Your breathlessness must endear you to him. Eddie's on you like a rash. Your jacket slips where it's tucked under his arm, but he doesn't let go of your hand, stepping with one foot between yours, his long hair brushing your chest as he closes the space between you.

"It's a lot, I get it," he says. His voice is rough from yelling, scratchy as hewn stone. "I meant to bring you those ear plugs and I forgot. I'm sorry."

"That's not your responsibility," you say, frowning.

He smiles at you. "You're my girl, aren't you? I look after you 'n' I like doing it." Eddie laughs, the sort of laugh that says, I'm really happy, I love you, and it's easy.

Or maybe you just want it to say that. Regardless, he bumps his forehead into yours and closes his eyes for a few seconds, rubbing your fingers between his mindlessly. "Take a minute. Chill. We can stay on the outskirts for the rest of the night if you need to."

You can deal with being uncomfortable, just not to the level you had been. That was dire. This is fine.

"Sorry for losing our spot," you say, pulling away from him.

"Sorry for putting you in a tough one, babe. How do you feel now? Any better?"

"Yeah, definitely." You pull your elbow up to wipe your burning cheeks.

"Better enough for a very public and disgusting kiss?" he asks.

"How disgusting?" you ask.

"Tongue, for sure."

"That's not that bad."

"Didn't say where, did I?" he asks.

"If you lick my ear I'm gonna have to go hide in the girls bathroom," you warn, flushing at the thought of it alone.

Eddie doesn't give you the kiss he threatened you with, only throws his arms over your shoulders to cup your head, lips pressed to your temple. He rubs your shoulders, and after a moment he starts to sway you both from side to side in time with the slightly less hectic song being performed by the band.

"Chill out," he murmurs. "I don't care where we're standing if I get to stand with you, loser."

You hug his back. You're uncomfortably warm still, but his touch is a remedy for the general frazzle of white noise that had been fizzing between your ears.

"Come on, let's go back," you say. The band starts on a song you know Eddie loves, you've heard it enough.

"I wanna be like, oh, no, I can't tear myself away from you, but I really fucking love this one," Eddie says. He gives you no less than six apology kisses against the bridge of your nose before spinning on his heel to usher you back toward the crowd. Not in the throng of it, but at least you're facing the right way. "Whoo!" he yells.

"Play it louder!" you shout, knowing no one can hear your individual voice over the cacophony. "My boyfriend loves this one!"

"I love this one!" Eddie shouts at the top of his lungs.

Your heart lifts at his huge, beaming smile. All the sweat and noise and raw ankles are worth it just to see him this ridiculously happy. He makes it easier, checking in on you periodically for the rest of the night, and persuading you to leave a little early to escape the rush. When he swings your tired arms between your bodies and declares it the best night ever, you know you can keep on coming to gigs no matter how crazy they get.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

1K notes · View notes

xrenjunniesx · 2 months

Note

BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS OF DREAMIES 🙏🙏🙏 it can be 0T7 or just chenle!! (maybe jeno). please make it delicious thanks wookie. i hope you're doing well with everything.

nct dream boyfriend headcannons

a/n : Hii, I’m doing well other than the fact that school is after me. I’m sorry this took so long for me to do :( enjoy the silly little headcannons :D

mark

there was snowman, sitting perfectly made and constructed on a ledge, and along with marks enthusiasm, created the perfect spot to take photos together. you and mark had just finished dinner and decided to go for a walk, just to enjoy each others company a little more in this cool environment and to talk about what’s been on your mind. the two of you start doing silly little poses for your camera, blowing snow at each other and getting amazing shots of the snow in action. it wasn’t until you tried to go up closer to the snowman that you realised - oh it’s slippery. very slippery. you fell over, kicking into mark by accident making him falling over as well. people walked past, laughing at the two of you as you both practically screamed out your own laughters. and oh? you accidentally recorded the whole thing? even better.

 renjun

you loved going to the photo booths with your friends, so when your boyfriend wanted to take you to one during a day out you agreed in an instant. before it started you took a seat, looking into the camera and fixing your hair to fix it up. renjun watched you in awe, simply admiring you. when it started you led the way, telling him how to pose quickly before the photo was taken each time. you got the cute set of photos but renjun wanted another set, this time without any accessories. you agree, placing the accessories back and joining him in the photo booth. you are all over each other in the best possible way in this set of photos. hugs, loving stares, kisses, brightest and most genuine smiles. he loved you more than you could ever guess.

jeno

“it was just a joke” you scream, running down the road towards the playground. jeno was hot on your tail, having the time of his lip chasing after you as you fear for what he will do what he catches you - hug you to death? who knows. despite the playground clearly not being for people above the age of ten, you were running up those stairs and sprinting towards the slide. he was below the slide, simply waiting for you to slide down.

“Leave me alone you psycho”

“take it back and it’s all okay”

“okay…. um…”

“you can’t even be genuine” he cried out before making his way up the slide. you wanted to laugh at the silly action but you chose to run instead, giggling as you jumped off the playground. however, you failed to notice that jeno was already back on the ground.

he wraps his arms tightly around you, squeezing you against him as you giggle and push at him to get free.

“apologise.” “no.” he kisses your lips and then looks at your with a forced angry expression. “apologise now.” “another kiss and then maybe.”

haechan

you were exhausted at this point. It was 4 am and this trip was supposed to be a time to rest. but instead haechan had you at the karaoke room making you sing all the songs possible together. you weren’t expecting him to go on for this long, usually it was only a couple of songs before he got sick of the karaoke, but tonight he just kept making you both sing.

you were sure your voices were giving out, you were out of breath from the failed rap attempts and you had somehow made a choreography to a song that he sung twice in a row.

“babe, I need a break please.” you huffed out, placing a microphone down and breathing out heavily.

he sat down beside you, also breathing heavily. he looked at you for a full minute. just looking as you breathed and tried to ignore his stare. he then brought his hand up to your chin and turned your face to look at him, moving forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips and then pulling away.

“let’s go back and sleep, I’m exhausted.”

jaemin

you laid in bed, unable to sleep from the pure excitement of what jaemin had planned for you tomorrow. he had booked a hotel in another city and brought the flight tickets. this was to the exact city you had wanted to visit for ages. you needed to wake up in a few hours for the airport, but you just couldn’t fall asleep. jaemin woke up due to your constant moving around.

“why are you awake?” “I’m too excited I can’t sleep..”

it brought a smile to his face, but he knew you would really need to sleep at least a little bit now.

he pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you and bringing your face towards his neck. you inhaled his scent and tried to relax yourself. “try to sleep, you will regret it if you don’t.”

“I am trying.” you said trying to move back and look at him but he kept your head there, not letting you move. “go to sleep.” he said, half asleep himself. you did fall asleep shortly after, thanks to his comforting hold on you.

chenle

you wanted to be FREE. he was feeling like a menace. he was cuddled up to your arm, not letting go of it for the past hour. you tried to free yourself multiple times but it didn’t work. he kept finding excuses to bother you. it was all because he liked your reactions. you scoffed and laughed in annoyance at his behaviour and that was enough to make him laugh at you and continue. it wasn’t until you started actually trying to free yourself from his grip that you both ended literally wrestling each other.

you were sat on the couch, chenle clinging onto you with his arms wrapped around one of your arms and his leg placed on top of you. he laughed at your expression, not caring that you were annoyed.

“It’s not like you are doing anything important.” he claimed, and you just closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

“why are you doing this?”

“honest answer or the lie.” “honest.” you say with a sigh.

“haechan bet me that I wouldn’t be able to stick to you for one hour straight and I said I could do two hours.”

“lele… it’s been like almost three hours now.”

“he will triple the money if I make it to three hours baby please just 20 more minutes.”

“spilt the money and sure.”

“the money is all yours baby. I’m doing this to prove a point.”

jisung

you and Jisung were growing impatient with the food. It was in the oven, cooking away, but you wanted it now. you stood in the kitchen, tapping your feet on the ground and fingers on the counter, creating a beat by pure accident. Jisung noticed the beat and started dancing to it, not seriously of course but just a silly little dance move for pure entertainment. you giggled and stopped the beat and he whined at you.

“aye keep the beat going.”

“I’ll get the kitchen beat going hold on.”

the pots and pants and spoons all came out and before you knew it, you and jisung were a two person band creating the worst music alive with the goofiest dances possible BUT you were having fun. so much fun that time just went on and on until you realised oh shit the food will be ready and turns out you almost burnt the food. it’s just a little bit extra crispy.

387 notes · View notes

hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

Text

A proud bf ┃Charles Leclerc

Charles had just finished a grueling day of training at the Austin Circuit. While resting in the comfort of his part of the Ferrari garage, he decided to relax by browsing his social networks. Little did he know that a video was about to capture his attention and turn his evening into a whirlwind of excitement.

While Charles was absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, he came across a post from his girlfriend, Y/N. The title intrigued him: "Had a great time on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon 🌟 Showdown #Mixtape Medley." Charles clicked on the video link and his eyes widened as Y/N's familiar face appeared on the screen.

The video showed Y/N on stage, facing off against Kelly Clarkson in a friendly competition called Mixtape Medley. Jimmy Fallon, with his characteristic charisma, introduced the contestants and generated expectation. The crowd cheered as the focus shifted between the singers, their voices weaving through the air as they .

''Ok, so here is how Mixtape Medley Showdown works'' Jimmy said ''I'm gonna spin the wheel and you're gonna get the title of a mixtape that you're gonna have to go back and forth singing a medley of those songs''

To Charles' amazement, Y/N's performance was nothing short of spectacular. Her voice resonated with a power and emotion that captivated the audience, singing songs by Cher, Celine Dion among other great artists. The tension in the room reached its climax when the winner was announced and, to the surprise of no one (except, perhaps, Charles himself), Y/N emerged victorious, earning a standing ovation from the audience along with one from Kelly and Jimmy.

Overwhelmed with pride, Charles couldn't contain his excitement. He immediately grabbed his phone and called Y/N, who was still buzzing with adrenaline from the show.

"Hey, Charlie!" she answered, her voice filled with joy.

"My love!, that was incredible! I can't believe you won! You were amazing! I'm so so proud of you, I can't stop watching the video!" Charles exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious.

Laughing, Y/N replied, "I'm so glad you enjoyed it, babe. It was such a fun experience.I didn't think I was going to win!"

Unable to contain his excitement, Charles decided to share the news with his mates. He ran to his close friend Sebastian Vettel's room and walked through the door with a smile on his face.

"Seb! You won't believe what just happened! Y/N was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and she won a singing contest!" Charles exclaimed, barely pausing for breath.

Sebastian, amused by Charles' animated demeanor, replied, "Really? That's fantastic! I didn't know she could sing like that. You must be a proud boyfriend."

"Oh, I am! You have no idea. I've been watching the video on repeat. She was phenomenal!" Charles gushed.

Word quickly spread through the paddock about Y/N's triumph, and soon, other drivers were joining the conversation. Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, and Daniel Ricciardo were all eager to congratulate Charles on his talented girlfriend.

The atmosphere in the paddock transformed into a celebration, with the drivers watching videos of Y/N's concert that Charles had taken, and one or another of them making fun of him when they heard comments from him towards his girlfriend.

As the night wore on, Charles couldn't help but revel in the unexpected joy that Y/N's performance had brought to the Formula 1 community and how very proud he was to have that girl as his girlfriend and to be able to call her his.

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen and 1,593,694 others

charles_leclerc Check out the new video of my wonderful girl on The Tonight Show with Jimmy!

username ''my girl'' 🥺

username he's so bf coded stop

username WE SUPPORT A PROUD BF

708 notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 7 months

Text

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags.

The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck.

The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face.

Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it.

Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could.

That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.

Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.

You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink.

The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more.

"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always.

"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.

He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?"

You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.

"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background.

"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—"

Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."

Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.

"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?"

"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear.

"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him.

You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.

Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing."

You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least.

"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good."

He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"

"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army?

"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway.

"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it.

His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..."

"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."

The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt. "I'm glad you waited for me."

"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again.

"Night, Johnny."

You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.

The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.

The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again.

Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.

The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through.

And when you do, the world stills.

You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach.

In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close.

He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together.

The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right.

"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.

"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake.

"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face.

You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent.

Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him.

His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts.

"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation.

He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything.

"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare.

Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement.

"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover.

You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way.

"We should move out of the way."

"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now."

His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.

"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires.

This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone.

Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both.

"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.

"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time."

You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart.

"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking."

Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours.

"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think.

You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then."

The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.

As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand."

"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?"

"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.

"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.

His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.

"Oh, will a now?"

"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?"

"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching.

"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that?

And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to.

His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff."

If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous."

"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous.

You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally.

"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second.

"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.

"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation "We'll come again, make them jealous right back."

You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.

"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though."

Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one."

His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry."

The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.

"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture.

After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile.

You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day.

When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body.

It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.

You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts.

Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.

"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny.

You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most.

"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.

Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version."

"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?"

Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.

"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."

You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on."

You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away.

"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return.

You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army."

"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair.

"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking.

"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments.

Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.

Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."

"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.

The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration.

"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.

"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly.

Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.

"I think he likes you too."

Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."

"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic?

Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?"

"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."

Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss.

They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.

He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet."

"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny.

He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."

You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.

"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now."

"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it.

You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything."

He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?"

"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!"

You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.

"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained.

The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do.

His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.

"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge."

Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium.

"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down."

His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.

Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed.

"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.

You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.

Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument.

You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid."

He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous."

You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.

Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."

"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?"

You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.

"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest.

Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget."

You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'"

"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either.

"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it.

You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.

"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture.

"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you."

"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?"

"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together.

You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then."

"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently.

You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?"

His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench.

"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response.

"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah..."

He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.

"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city.

The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things.

"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?"

"Last train is at 9."

You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough."

"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it.

"Not if you're sick of me first."

The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.

The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main.

Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other.

"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though.

"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?"

Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.

"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.

Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice.

"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.

Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.

His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth.

"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."

"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself.

The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask."

"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.

The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask.

"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you.

All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?"

"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one.

"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath.

Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"

"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building."

"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip.

"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows."

"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again.

You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real.

"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say.

"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?"

The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future.

"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.

"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect.

You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.

When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford.

The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.

"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman.

You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking."

He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound.

You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber."

His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?"

You nod. "I swear, I will."

You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him.

That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his.

"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly.

"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.

"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips.

You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea."

"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?"

"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately.

"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."

"Please."

Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him.

The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other.

Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ."

You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency."

"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?"

You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him.

"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?"

"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry."

"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.

Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side.

"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate.

"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier.

On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train.

You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again.

You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you.

Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #soap mw2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #collars and cages #this is a big chonky read and idk how to feel about it but here we are

760 notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 1 year

Note

this picture i need it in a bubba blurb ASAPPPPP -🫶

OKAY HEREEEEE

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Daddy?”

A soft voice calling for him made its way to Harry’s ears, a voice that belonged to his three year old son, who was curiously peeking his head inside his home studio.

Ever since his little boy was born, Harry made the decision to switch everything up regarding his career, taking longer breaks between albums and tours and building a full equipped music studio in his home. He just didn’t want to be away from his wife and son, specially during his first years of life.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing over there?” Harry said as he moved his hands away from the piano tiles and looked over at the little boy who was just a replica of him: same green eyes, dimples and brown curls. It blew anyone’s mind when they saw how alike they looked.

He had been working on the same melody all day, he was in the process of writing his 5th studio album, the first one as a father, and he wanted everything to be perfect. The album was all about fatherhood, falling in love with his wife all over again and overall this new chapter of his life, he was happier than ever and that’s what the songs he had been writing told.

“Come here, baby,” Harry opened his arms, motioning the little boy to join him “I’ve missed you, would you like a cuddle?” his son curiously dragged his small feet across the room, Harry had noticed how much he liked his studio, and how fond of music his son was, always asking his mummy to play his favorite songs around the house and his daddy to sing for him. It warmed Harry’s heart every single time.

“Cuddle daddy.” the little boy mumbled as he climbed on the piano’s bench -with Harry’s help, of course- and placed himself on his lap. If there was something that Harry wouldn’t change for anything was cuddling his son, so when his baby adjusted himself on his lap and buried his face on his ribs, putting his little arms around his broad frame, he could feel his heart growing twice is size.

Harry kissed the little mop of curls and lingered his lips on the crown of his baby’s head, sometimes he couldn’t quite understand how he got so lucky to have the perfect little family. He found his soulmate when he was 22 and knew he wanted to marry her, he put a ring on her finger at 29 and now, at 31, he had a little bundle of joy that was a mixture of him and the love of his life.

Life couldn’t get any better.

So with a full heart and a sudden burst of inspiration, he went back to playing melodies on the piano, careful not to disturb the little boy in his arms.

“Music?” the boy beamed as he moved his little face from its position on his dad’s ribs, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm over hearing him play “That’s right bubba, daddy’s playing music, you like when daddy does that, don’t you?” Harry cooed, he was man enough to admit that his little boy made him melt with every single thing he did.

“Play daddy” his son said as he sat up straight on his lap, his gaze fixed on the piano in front of him, and since his wish is Harry's command, he continued playing soft melodies for him.

Harry wanted to take that moment in and save it forever, he was unaware at that moment, but his wife was standing at the door frame, capturing the both of them in a picture that would be part of his album's booklet in the future.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

1K notes · View notes

slayfics · 27 days

Note

If you don’t mind me dropping a request for Katsuki headcanons then here I am…

(I know I’m in a whole other famdom right now and I don’t even simp for Bakugo (he’s yours he’s yours, I got a dif man 😉) but I’m bored and this is just an idea)

So.. what if Bakugo was dating a y/n that was just as much of an idiot as Kaminari 😥

If you haven’t done this already -

Katsuki dating a silly reader.

700 words~

Katsuki pretends to be annoyed by your air headedness but actually finds it adorable. He feels responsible for watching out for you.

He is quick to tell off anyone who insults you.

He secretly loves that you get along well with his friends.

However, he is insecure about the way Kirishima and Kaminari can have you rolling in laughter effortlessly. He won't ever mention it but it's apparent by the pout he has any time you're laughing at Kaminari's newest joke.

He loves the way you can cut through his seriousness and bring whimsy to his life. He doesn't know what he'd do without you. Heck, probably never smile again.

He is quick to catch you with any mistakes you make, albeit he scolds you for it.

He is overly tough with you when you spar, but it's only because he wants you to be as strong as you can be to take out any villains you face.

Katsuki's friends are constantly blown away by the things you get him to agree to do. Shopping at a dumb mall? Fine, he'll hold your bags. Going to an amusement park with way too many screaming kids? "Fine- if you really want to go." Singing along to a cheesy ass song? Mmm maybe, don't press your luck too far...

You brought back your food and sat at the outside table of the sports bar rejoining the boys. Music played as different sports ball games played on the various screens outside.

"Tch- why'd you two choose this place anyway? None of us give a damn about these games," Katsuki said huffing and gesturing to the TVs.

"It's the only place that's in the middle of all our places," Denki explained, as you began to take bites of your food.

"Mmm I guess- the food is shit though," Katsuki continued to complain but took a bite of his food all the same.

The song changed to an easily recognizable tune: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Your and Eijiro's eyes immediately locked. The first verse synced up between the both of you as you sang.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely

And you're never coming 'round

"No, stop." Katsuki huffed at you both beginning to sing. However, Katsuki's annoyance was only met with Denki joining in on the next verse.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit tired

Of listening to the sound of my tears

"Are you kidding me," Katsuki complained hiding his face in his hand. Which let Hanta know it was his turn to chime in. The four of you now had a choir.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous

That the best of all the years have gone by

You three continued to sing increasing your enthusiasm with each lyric. Feeding off one another's enthusiasm.

Turn around, bright eyes~

Every now and then I fall apart

"Come on Bakugo, you know this song," Denki said nudging him during the instrumental part of the song.

"Hell no you're out of your mind!" Katsuki yelled. "Shut the hell up you four- you're making a scene."

"Awe~ Come on Kats~" You encouraged him. "You gotta do the next part with us!"

Katsuki eyed you irritated as Eijiro swayed back and forth in his seat matching Denki's dance movements.

You and the boys began singing back as the lyrics picked up again. This time, even louder and more enthusiastic than before.

And I need you now tonight

And I need you more than ever

And if you hold only hold me tight

We'll be holding on forever.

Then to all your surprise, Katsuki chimed into the last verse with you all.

I really need you tonight

Forever's gonna start tonight

Katsuki talked out, his version of singing, while you four sang as loud as ever.

"Let's go Kacchan," Denki laughed clapping his hands together in excitement.

"Awe so cute- you'd do anything they asked," Eijiro said with a giggle earning himself a bark from Katsuki.

"SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!"

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs

305 notes · View notes

macabr3-barbi3 · 1 month

Text

dream a little dream (of me)- chapter 2 [Alastor/Reader]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/138625708

Chapter 1 is here! And Chapter 3 is here!

Same tags as chapter 1: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor

It’s truly amazing what a regular sleep schedule can do for someone. Within days of starting to sleep in Alastor’s room, life in Hell just felt… better.

And Alastor was tolerable, in his own way. There was no mention of the deal that you had made, and if anyone noticed you spending the evenings in his bedroom they didn’t question it. It was the same every night- you would knock, he would invite you in, and you would engage in the tiniest of small talk before he shepherded you to the bed he had set up for you in the bayou dimension. It was always made, the sheets comfortable and soft and warm as you laid your head down and fell into dreamless sleep. You were keeping to your end of the deal, unable to resist the siren call of actual rest in favor of sneaking to Alastor’s side of the room to see what he dreamt of these days.

You wondered about his end, and what he had promised if you stayed out of his dreams like you agreed- like you were doing. “Whenever you would like,” he had said, but you didn’t want to just- proposition him. That felt improper and scandalous. For the time being you were content to just accept the peaceful relaxation that the bayou realm offered you.

You quit the retail job that you held after about a week and accepted Charlie’s offer to find something to do in the hotel- you were designated to the Resident Events Coordinator, which basically meant that when Charlie got it in her head that everyone needed to go on a field trip somewhere, you were in charge of booking, paying invoices from the Hotel budget, and making sure everyone was accounted for and following the rules when you got there. In theory, anyway- you’re pretty sure Charlie came up with the job on the spot but you hadn’t actually gone anywhere yet, no field trips taken or tasks for you for a couple weeks now.

That seemed like it was going to change as Charlie squealed your name from the front office and asked you to join her. Poking your head tentatively into the room, she has a bunch of papers spread across the desk, Vaggie in the chair next to it with a hand to her temple. She shoots you a smile before her eyes return to the carpet, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

“What’s-”

Charlie is bouncing with excitement as she sings, “I have a resident event for you to coordinate!” She gestures to the papers on the desk with wiggling fingers. “I’ve been doing some research and while it's been found that just regular stuff in a familiar setting is all well and good and helpful, doing things like trust exercises or just hanging out in an un familiar setting can also be really great! So Vaggie and I looked into some stuff and we decided ooonnnnnn….” She trails off and gestures grandly to Vaggie, who looks up from her dead stare at the floor.

“Camping. Yay.” Her enthusiasm is noted, but when Charlie pouts at her she smiles and pulls some jazz hands. “Sorry- camping! Yay!”

You offer your own smile even as your heart drops. “Okay, cool! What do I need to do?”

Camping would mean everyone sleeping in the same area- you had gotten so accustomed to a regular night’s sleep that you weren’t sure if you could stay up an entire night to avoid falling into anyone’s dreams. Alastor probably wouldn’t come with the group- he didn’t seem like camping was his style- so you wouldn’t be able to rely on that. You hoped that going back to the energy drinks for a night or so wouldn’t irreparably damage your new internal clock.

Charlie launches into a spiel about what was needed of you- reserving the campground, making sure that there were plenty of smores ingredients handy, snacks and things to grill and bottled water all in ready supply. You would need to get the list of rules, a map of the area, tents, and did you know how to start a fire?

“Babe, you’re the Princess of Hell. I’m pretty sure you can start a fire just fine.” Vaggie looked at her girlfriend with an air of amused frustration.

“Well yeah but I want it to be authentic! No magic on the camping trip- not even from me.”

You look up from the notepad Vaggie had handed you before Charlie got too far into it, catching up on everything she had listed off. “No magic- got it! Do you have a particular place in mind?”

And the demon was off again, listing off nearby wooded areas that offered camping and everything the group might need. Looking at the list of items you had accumulated, you figured that this job would be actual work and not just something Charlie gave you for a title- you wondered if Vaggie had to talk her into letting someone else handle the intricacies of outings so she didn’t burn herself out.

You spent the rest of the week finalizing everything, only being met with a small groan when Charlie informed the group of what would be happening on Friday evening. Niffty seemed excited- “lots of wild bugs,” she said with a crazed look in her eye, and you made a mental note to call the campground again to ask if ‘murder of bugs’ was something that was allowed- and Angel and Husk just seemed to resign themselves to their fate. Alastor had raised an eyebrow and said he would see if his ‘schedule could allow him to attend,’ so he was most likely out.

You had only managed to acquire three tents- one for Charlie and Vaggie, one for Husk and Angel, and one for you and Niffty. You had no intention of sleeping in it- you would wait until the smaller demon fell asleep, which she always did swiftly and deeply, and then spend the night sipping caffeine and manning the fire to keep everyone warm while they slept. When you came home on Saturday you would return to Alastor’s room and catch up on the rest you would be losing.

You arranged for the delivery of everything to the campground ahead of you all, and were pleased to see all of your materials where they should be when you arrived. It felt good to be able to do something for the group, and to help Charlie like this and take some stress off her plate. You started sorting through it all, handing out sleeping bags and designating Husk to management of the food items when you hit the first snag.

“Uhhhh…” The box containing the tents had two that were regular sized- big enough for two people while still remaining in the confines of the campsite as you set them up. The last appeared to be a child’s tent- large enough for Niffty on her own but certainly not for the two of you. That threw a wrench in your plans, as you were sure that no one would go for the idea of you sleeping outside on your own.

“Oh no!” Charlie looked over your shoulder and saw the predicament. “That won’t work for the two of you- wait, you can share with Vaggie and I! There’s enough room in there for three, right?”

Fuck.

“Maybe,” you agree hesitantly, but it wouldn’t be as easy to sneak out of the tent with two of them, one being a former Exorcist Angel with a penchant for nightmares that woke her up. And just laying there pretending to sleep would probably result in you actually falling asleep- and also, it was a little weird to share a tent with a couple, right?

Vaggie frowns as she finishes setting up hers and Charlie’s tent. “I don’t know, hun- there’s not much room in here, I’m not sure if three people will fit.”

Charlie goes to inspect the tent. “Well, we would be pretty close but I think it would be okay!”

You start to wave your hands in denial. “That’s okay guys, really- I still have a sleeping bag, I can stay by the fire-”

The resounding chorus of “NO!” from the group is touching, it really is, but not helpful to your current struggle. Husk is adamantly insisting that if anyone sleeps outside it should be him, Angel is complaining about the possibility of not getting to share a tent with Husk, Niffty is- chasing bugs on the outskirts of the site, completely unconcerned with the issue at hand.

There’s a crackle of static and Alastor emerges from a shadow, casting a glance over the group. “Hello everyone! Are we having trouble already on our little camping trip?”

“Alastor.” Your heart thumps in your chest- maybe he could conjure another tent for you, do some of his magic to put a pocket dimension inside of it like the bayou in his room. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“It seems that I was able to free some time up to join you,” he says, then looks at the tents that have been set up. “What seems to be the problem?”

You can’t fight the surge of irritation. “I messed up the order somehow. We got two normal sized tents but the last one is only big enough for Niffty which is who I was supposed to share with- I should have sprung for another one in case you did show up, now that I’m thinking about it.” You bring a palm to your forehead. “God, that was stupid-”

“Nonsense! Why, you can share with me, my dear.” With a wave of his hand the tents are moving, repositioning to make room for a red tent that appears in the middle of the others. It’s larger than the other two, causing Angel to let out a whistle, and the relief that rushes through you is immediate.

Husk doesn’t seem to agree, and Charlie and Vaggie are both looking at you with trepidation. “Now hold on,” Husk starts. “I’ll share with you, Al. There’s no reason the little lady should be stuck in there with you.”

“Why Husker, I’m offended! Do you think I would behave improperly? I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.” He gestures to the tent. “It is more than large enough for the both of us- arguably a better position for her to be in than sharing with one of you, smushed in like sardines.”

Vaggie cuts in. “Why don’t you take mine and Charlie’s tent and we can share the big one with her-”

“Vaggie,” you interrupt her. “It’s fine! I’m okay sharing with Alastor. He’s right- it is a bigger space, there will be plenty of room for us both, and I don’t want to intrude on you and Charlie.” You flash her a smile. “Everything will be okay- it’s just for one night.”

The woman groans but gives in. “If you’re sure you’re okay with it, fine. But!” She adds, pointing at Alastor. “Charlie’s rules. No more magic.” Alastor hums in agreement and the rest of the plans for the evening go without a hitch.

There’s a nice nature walk through a nearby trail, a brief stint of swimming- unplanned and unauthorized, since you specifically told Niffty it wasn’t allowed beforehand- and an easy dinner made by Husk over the fire that Niffty started. Smores are concocted and consumed before you all tell scary stories together, putting an end to it before Alastor could have his turn- no one wanted to open that can of worms, as it were.

Everyone started to turn in, including Alastor, until only you and Husk were left out by the fire. He overturned a bottle of water on the flames to douse them, a flickering ember all that remained as he sat on a log next to you. “You’re really okay sharing with him, kid?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m a fully grown adult, Husk,” you remind him, and he doesn’t even look sheepish. “But yes, I’ll be fine. Besides, I think Angel would throw a tantrum if he was denied being able to sleep so close to you.” You throw him a wink, and with this, at least, he blushes.

“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, “whatever. Just… you let me know if you wanna switch. Any time. I’ll wake up if you come to our tent.”

“I appreciate it,” you say with a smile, knowing it won’t be necessary. If Alastor had put another pocket dimension in the tent you would sleep soundly, no need to switch with anyone or stay awake. “Have a good night, Husk.” You go your separate ways, waiting for him to duck into his and Angel’s tent before entering the one you would be sharing with Alastor.

There’s no bayou waiting for you- just a large bed in the very center of the space, Alastor tucked under the covers with a book in his hands. “Ah, there you are, dear!”

You enter the tent and close it behind you. “I was just cleaning up a little with Husk. Um- I don’t want to sound, you know, picky but-”

“Hmm, were you expecting the bayou from my room?” He sighs like its a great inconvenience. “Yes, I had planned to bring it to being in the tent or at least getting a second bed but alas- Charlie did insist on no magic!”

God damn this demon and his selective rule following. “Right. Well, at least you know why I’m not sleeping. I won’t have to pretend- do you have another book I could read?”

“Not sleeping? Darling, there’s room here.” He pats the bed next to him, grin wide and amused. “I insist- I promise I’ll behave.” His smile did not give you much hope to that.

“If you’re the closest person to me, then- what about our. Um. The deal?” You can’t stop yourself from entering his dreams if he’s close to you, let alone in the same bed.

He tilts his head. “You have my permission. It is one night only, as you told Vaggie. Sleeping anywhere else would drop you into the dreams of another, and even if I had been able to conjure another bed you would still be closest to myself. You may as well be comfortable.” He pulls down the corner of sheets opposite him, and you have to admit that it looks inviting.

You approach and climb under the covers, careful to keep a reasonable amount of space between yourself and Alastor as he waves a hand and the lights go dim. “I thought you said no magic,” you mutter, only a little bitterly. He chuckles but doesn’t respond, and soon the sound is replaced with light, even breathing as the Radio Demon slips into sleep.

You fight it as long as you can, but you end up joining him, the world going black before you re-materialize in a familiar place.

Alastor’s room. He’s sitting in an armchair near the fire, reading the same book he had been. He looks up at the inquisitive noise you make. “I figured you needn’t feel so guilty about intruding if there was nothing intimate to see,” he says, flipping a page.

“I appreciate that, thank you.” You take the seat opposite him, watching the fire dance before you both. Its quiet, comfortably so, the only sounds the faint breathing of you both and Alastor’s page flipping.

You watch him for a while, since there’s nothing else to do. You lightly trail his body with your eyes as he relaxes into the chair, traveling up the lines of his legs to his chest, the subtle musculature of his arms and flexing of tendons when he turns a page, his fingers dexterous and strong. You think about the last time you had been in his dream- how those fingers had been inside the dream version of you but you never got to experience it yourself, not really. You’d come into it right at the end to be speared on Alastor’s length, wet and ready despite not being part of the preparation yourself. You wanted-

“Something on your mind?” Your eyes snap up from his hands to find Alastor watching you, shit eating smile on his face as he watched you basically ogling him.

“N-no!” You scoot the chair back from him, your face twisting in confusion as it's pulled right back into position and then even further, a shadow racing out of your peripherals after it drops your chair right in front of Alastor’s, knee to knee. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“You know,” he says conversationally, “you’ve not yet taken advantage of your own benefits of the deal, dear. You’ve been quite compliant in staying out of my dreams- I think that warrants a reward, don’t you?”

He’s leaned into your space, inches from your face, eyes darting down to your mouth. “A- a reward?”

“Indeed.” He closes his book and it vanishes with a twist of his wrist, freeing up the hand to brush under your chin. “You’re free to choose something else if you don’t wish to ‘cash in’ on my end of the deal. Though… you do remember what it was, don’t you?” He trails a clawed finger down your neck, brushing your hair off your shoulders and continuing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Not hard enough to scratch but not so light you couldn’t feel it at all.

“I remember. You said… whenever I wanted.” Your face is red, your brain muddled as you take in the scent of him so close to you- you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“The exact wording, sweetheart, was that I would allow you to cum on my cock whenever you’d like.” His hands dart out to circle your waist and drag you into his chair, grinding up against you as the seat transformed into something more like a chaise, reclined and wider. “Is that what you would like now?”

“Fuck, I- wait, fuck,” you manage to stammer at the feeling of his erection under you, and you find yourself rolling your hips along with him, chasing that feeling. You lose yourself in it, your mouth open while you gasp through the pleasure, and no sooner have you had the brief thought of wishing you didn’t have to remove your body to take your pants off than the article of clothing has disappeared. “What-”

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think,” Alastor says, and he shifts you to one side in his lap to get a hand underneath you and slide a long finger into your slick warmth. “It seems that you can do it as well to an extent.”

“Well that’s pretty cool,” you mumble, and when you throw your head back with a moan he latches his teeth onto your neck, a light pinch that he sucks and then soothes with his tongue.

“Indeed; one learns something new every day!” He traces his mouth down your shoulder, over your collarbones and back up to suck at your skin again, his fingers working steadily inside you as he adds another in, to the second knuckle. “For example- I have learned that you taste and feel even better than that figment of dreams that I created.”

You let your head fall forward, press your forehead to Alastor’s. “High praise,” you say, and he laughs at you. “I knew you would- oh fuck- ” He changes his angle, crooking his fingers upwards into the sweet spot inside your body, the pressure unrelenting and causing what little control you had right now to spill out of your grasp like the whimpers that poured from your mouth.

He adjusts, leaning back fully into the chaise. He releases the grip he has on your waist to snap his fingers, and with a clink his belt has removed itself from his pants and curled up neatly on the floor. A second set of fingers slides between your bodies to undo his fly, the thumb of the hand inside you brushing against your clit as he works to remove himself.

You’re panting, the air hot between your mouths as he uses your arousal to slick himself, pushing at your entrance. “Don’t you ever take these clothes off?” You ask irritably, wondering if you could use your newfound ability to vanish at least his shirt as you grip it in your fingers desperately.

“Not here I won’t- we must leave something to be discovered in real life, don’t you think?” His shirt still stubbornly buttoned across his chest, he extracts his fingers from your body and grips your hips to pull you down onto his cock. The whine you let out would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so goddamn good to have him fill you, nowhere to go to escape the pressure and the pleasure of it.

You plant your hands on his shoulders as he slides in to the hilt, and when you look at him his eyes are dark, cheeks flushed despite the smirk on his face. “That’s… that’s no fair,” you say, and you can feel the way you clench down around his length. “You’ve already seen a-all of me.”

He lets his hands run up your sides and under your shirt, claws leaving gooseflesh in their wake as he brings them up to brush against your nipples, drags them across your skin to gently rake down your back in the most delicious way. “That hardly counted,” he murmurs, bucking his hips up and watching the way that he slides in and out of the grip of your cunt. “This is merely a fantasy, dearest. I won’t be truly satisfied until I can say that I have claimed all of you- dream and reality, body and soul. Just to see your naked flesh is nothing to me.”

He digs the claws of one hand into your thigh, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to drag you down closer to his face, the ache of it only sending you towards orgasm faster as he grinds up into you. “I want you flayed open with the ache of needing me,” he groans, and uses his grip on your neck to force you to meet his eyes. “Here and in the real world. I want to fucking own you in every possible dimension, every possible way- tell me I can, darling. Tell me I do-”

Like last time, Alastor demanded verbal confirmation of your submission to him. “Fuck, yes,” you cry out, cutting him off, and as he pulls you in to lick into his mouth you find the strength in your legs finally, rising and sinking back down on his cock as he thrusts into you from below. It’s impossible to feel this good- you can’t possibly survive this, you think, as your cunt grips down tighter every time he glances off that spot inside of you. “Please, Alastor,” you whimper into his mouth. “Please, let me cum- I’m yours, I’m yours-”

He bites down hard on your lip, the skin breaking and blood pooling in the space where your mouths have joined as you hit your peak the same time Alastor does. He releases your lip with a drawn out groan while he fills you, grinding your hips down into his with a force that can only be describe as desperate . It doesn’t end; as you tip over the razor’s edge and drench his lap in your release you moan with the feeling of tightening on him, the sound devolving into a whimper as you clutch weakly at Alastor’s shirt when the wave finally crashes and leaves you limp in his arms.

“Hm.” When you bring you head up to meet his gaze he has a wicked smile on his face, pulling out of you with an embarrassing sound coming form between your bodies. One of his ears flicks to the side before righting itself. “Sounds like you might have some explaining to do to our friends, chérie.”

“What do you-” You don’t get a chance to finish your thought before he pushes you with a finger to your forehead, and instead of hitting the other end of the chaise you slam hard into the bed, covers fluttering around you as you fight them off with the force that you’ve landed with.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Husk is standing at the entrance to the tent with his arms crossed, Angel Dust peering over his shoulder with interest.

You clench your eyes shut, remembering that Alastor had only conjured the one bed- this was going to be awkward. “Fuck, I-”

“Yes, my dear, you’ve even given me quite the startle.” Alastor’s voice comes from across the tent- in a different bed than the one you had both fallen asleep in. A glance down reveals that you are in your own sleeping quarters, tucked under a soft comforter on your own side of the large space.

You glare at him and he keeps his eyes wide, feigning innocence.

Charlie pops her head into the tent as well. “We heard noises,” she said. “It sounded like you were in pain. Is everything okay?”

You were going to fucking kill Alastor.

“It was… just a dream,” you tell them, and Alastor’s smile splits his face in your peripheral vision. “A nightmare. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

Vaggie places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder from outside the tent. “We’ve got to get started with breakfast if we’re gonna leave on time, babe,” she says, then stands on her tiptoes to look at you over Charlie’s shoulder. “If you find yourself having nightmares come let me know- I have some stuff that could help.” She vanishes, off to try to start the campfire back up the way Niffty had done accidentally the night before.

Husk is glancing between you and Alastor, and one of his eyebrows raises. “You know what? Not my damn business. Come on, Angel.” He leads the spider away as well, and Charlie gives you a wave with her worried look before the tent is zipped back up and you’re alone with Alastor again.

“You-”

“What an interesting development,” he says, suddenly in the bed with you again- perched on the side of it, having shifted through the shadows in only a moment. He reaches a finger out and brushes it along the side of your neck. You hiss at the feeling, a sharp pain following the feeling, but he’s up and out of the bed before you can say anything else. He waves a hand, and a mirror appears in the space between your beds. “Have a look, dear, then come join the rest of us! What would we do without our event coordinator to lead us back to the hotel?” He doesn’t even use the door, just sinks into the floor and is gone.

You swing your legs out of the bed, only a little irritated to find that once again your legs are shaky. You make your way over to the mirror, and you see what Alastor had seen, probably what Husk had seen as well.

A split lip, and a still weakly bleeding bite mark in the shape of Alastor’s smile.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #x reader #what is wrong with me lol #my stuff <3

271 notes · View notes

simpforfandom231 · 3 months

Text

Pretty girl on Tour

here is a Reneé rapp one.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The excitement buzzed through the air as Y/n and her little sister, Anabelle, made their way to the concert venue in Antwerp. Reneé Rapp, the sensational artist, was set to perform, and the sisters couldn't contain their enthusiasm. Y/n had surprised Anabelle with VIP tickets for a meet and greet, knowing that it would be an unforgettable experience for her little sister, who was an ardent fan of Reneé.

The moment they stepped into the venue, the pulsating energy of the crowd engulfed them. Anabelle's eyes widened in amazement, taking in the sea of fans, the dazzling stage lights, and the anticipation that hung in the air. Y/n couldn't help but smile at her sister's excitement.

As they found their seats, Anabelle couldn't contain her glee. "Y/n, I can't believe we're really here! Reneé is going to be right there!" she exclaimed, pointing towards the stage.

Y/n chuckled, "I know, Annie! This is going to be an incredible night. Just enjoy every moment."

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the concert. The crowd erupted in cheers as Reneé Rapp took the stage, her presence commanding attention. Anabelle's eyes sparkled with admiration as the first notes of the music filled the arena.

Anabelle, swept away by the rhythm, began singing along to every song, her voice blending with the crowd's enthusiastic chorus. Y/n, although not as familiar with all of Reneé's songs, couldn't help but join in the infectious energy, singing the ones she knew and dancing along.

Amidst the pulsating beats and melodic tunes, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the connection between Reneé and her fans. The artist's charisma, coupled with the audience's unwavering devotion, created a magical atmosphere.

During a particularly upbeat song, Y/n noticed Anabelle singing with pure joy, her eyes closed, and her hands waving in the air. Y/n nudged her, "You're having the time of your life, aren't you, Annie?"

Anabelle beamed, "This is the best night ever, Y/n! Thank you for bringing me here!"

As the concert reached its peak, Y/n found herself caught up in the excitement. She knew one song all too well, and when Reneé began singing it, Y/n couldn't resist belting out the lyrics along with the crowd. The camaraderie of thousands of voices singing in unison sent shivers down her spine.

As the concert reached its climax, the venue erupted with the captivating melody of the final song, "Messy." The stage bathed in an array of colorful lights, creating a surreal ambiance. Reneé Rapp's powerful voice echoed through the arena, and the crowd swayed to the rhythm.

During the song, Y/n couldn't help but be drawn into the emotional lyrics. Lost in the music, she sang along, her eyes locked onto Reneé's mesmerizing performance. Little did Y/n know that, amidst the sea of faces in the audience, Reneé's eyes had caught hers.

As the final notes lingered in the air, the applause from the crowd was deafening. Y/n and Anabelle, their spirits soaring, made their way to the VIP meet and greet line. Anabelle was buzzing with excitement, reliving her favorite moments from the concert, while Y/n walked beside her, soaking in the vibrant atmosphere.

The line slowly moved forward, and soon, they found themselves next in line. Anabelle was practically bouncing on her toes, and Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at her sister's infectious enthusiasm.

Finally entering the room, the meet and greet space was adorned with Reneé Rapp memorabilia, creating an intimate setting. Anabelle's eyes widened as she spotted Reneé, who greeted them with a warm smile. Y/n observed the exchange, reveling in her sister's joy.

Anabelle, unable to contain her excitement, blurted out, "Oh my gosh, Reneé, you were amazing! This was the best night of my life!"

Reneé grinned, "Thank you so much! I'm thrilled you enjoyed it. What's your name?"

Anabelle, her face flushed with excitement, stammered, "I'm Anabelle, and this is my sister, Y/n."

Reneé turned her attention to Y/n, her eyes lingering for a moment. "Hey, Y/n. I couldn't help but notice you singing along during 'Messy.' You've got a great voice."

Y/n, caught off guard, blushed and replied, "Oh, well, your music is just so infectious. Couldn't resist singing along."

Reneé chuckled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's always special when I see fans getting into the music."

As Anabelle eagerly chatted with Reneé about her favorite songs and the concert experience, Y/n couldn't help but appreciate the genuine warmth emanating from the artist. The conversation took a playful turn, and Reneé teased Y/n, "Maybe I'll see you at the front row of my next concert, singing your heart out."

Y/n, embracing the lighthearted banter, replied with a grin, "Count on it. Your concerts are too good to miss."

Reneé's eyes twinkled, and the meet and greet continued with laughter, shared stories, and the exchange of autographs. As Y/n and Anabelle left the room, Anabelle clutching more signed memorabilia, Y/n couldn't shake the fluttering feeling in her chest.

The night had been a whirlwind of music, laughter, and newfound connections. As they stepped out into the cool Antwerp night, Y/n and Anabelle exchanged smiles, knowing that the memories of this extraordinary evening would be cherished for a lifetime.

The city of Antwerp was alive with the warm glow of streetlights, casting a golden hue on the cobbled streets as Y/n and Anabelle walked, still buzzing from the concert. Anabelle couldn't stop rambling about every detail of the performance and how incredible it was to meet Reneé.

"It was like a dream, Y/n! I can't believe she noticed us, and did you see how she smiled at you during the meet and greet?" Anabelle gushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/n laughed, "Yeah, it was a pretty amazing night. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much, Annie."

As they strolled, the aroma of freshly baked pizza wafted through the air, making their stomachs growl in unison. Y/n, eager to treat her sister, suggested stopping at a cozy pizzeria nearby.

Inside the warm and inviting pizzeria, Y/n and Anabelle settled into a corner booth. Anabelle continued sharing her favorite moments from the concert while Y/n, with a content smile, listened to her sister's animated storytelling.

The atmosphere took an unexpected turn when, unbeknownst to the sisters, Reneé Rapp casually walked into the pizzeria. Her presence, though not immediately recognized, didn't go unnoticed by Anabelle, who nudged Y/n and discreetly whispered, "Y/n, isn't that Reneé?"

Y/n turned her head and saw the star herself, casually waiting in line to order pizza. Anabelle's eyes widened with disbelief, and Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at her sister's reaction.

Remaining calm, Y/n whispered back, "Yeah, that's her. Should we say hi?"

Anabelle, still in a state of shock, stammered, "I don't know! What if she thinks we're stalking her?"

Y/n grinned, "Relax, Annie. We're just grabbing some pizza. Let's make it casual."

As fate would have it, Reneé chose a table not far from theirs, and the siblings couldn't help stealing glances at the talented artist. Anabelle was practically vibrating with excitement, and Y/n found herself considering the possibility of inviting Reneé to join them.

Summoning her confidence, Y/n turned to Reneé and smiled, "Hey, Reneé, right? Fancy joining us for some pizza?"

Reneé, looking surprised but intrigued, replied, "Oh, hey! Yeah, that sounds great. Mind if I join you guys?"

Anabelle, now trying to play it cool but failing miserably, nodded enthusiastically. Y/n gestured to the empty seats, "Of course! Have a seat. We were just talking about how amazing the concert was."

As Reneé sat down, she couldn't help but notice the genuine warmth between the two siblings. "You guys were at the meet and greet, right?" she asked, recalling their earlier encounter.

Y/n nodded, "Yeah, that was us. Anabelle here is your biggest fan."

Anabelle blushed, "Guilty as charged! I can't believe you're here with us!"

Reneé chuckled, "Well, it's not every day I get invited for pizza by fans. It's a nice change of pace."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. Anabelle, now more at ease, chatted animatedly with Reneé about her favorite songs and the concert experience. Y/n couldn't help but be charmed by the artist's down-to-earth demeanor.

As they devoured slices of pizza and swapped tales, Reneé couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards Y/n. In between bites, she stole glances at Y/n, thinking to herself, "Y/n is kinda hot and cute. This might be a night to remember."

The unexpected encounter turned into a delightful evening of laughter, pizza, and newfound connections.

Amidst the backdrop of the pizzeria, the laughter continued, punctuated by the occasional crunch of pizza crust. Y/n, Anabelle, and Reneé chatted as if they were old friends, the pizza providing a casual setting for their impromptu gathering.

Curiosity got the better of Y/n as she took a bite of her pizza and turned to Reneé, "So, Reneé, what brings you to the pizzeria tonight? Are you on a solo pizza adventure?"

Reneé grinned, "You could say that. I like exploring the cities I perform in, and what better way to do it than with a good slice of pizza?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow playfully, "No entourage tonight? I thought pop stars always had an army of people with them."

Reneé laughed, "Oh, I have my entourage, but sometimes I like to sneak out on my own. Keeps things interesting, you know?"

Anabelle, wide-eyed, chimed in, "You mean, you're out here alone, just like a regular person?"

Reneé nodded, "Exactly! It's nice to have a bit of normalcy now and then."

Y/n, with a mischievous glint in her eye, teased, "Well, I hope you're not trying to go undercover. With that charisma, you'd be recognized anywhere."

Reneé chuckled, "I'm counting on the fact that pizza lovers are too busy enjoying their food to notice a pop star in their midst."

As they bantered back and forth, the conversation effortlessly transitioned into flirtatious territory. Reneé, with a sly smile, remarked, "Maybe I'm just trying to avoid being swarmed by fans. It can get a bit overwhelming."

Y/n leaned in, a playful glint in her eyes, "Or maybe you just wanted to have a low-key pizza date with us. I mean, who could resist our charming company?"

Reneé laughed, "Well, I certainly lucked out tonight. Pizza and great company. What more could a pop star ask for?"

The trio continued to enjoy their pizza, the atmosphere filled with a delightful mix of banter and genuine connection. Anabelle, sensing the flirtatious tension, exchanged knowing glances with Y/n, silently reveling in the unexpected turn of events.

As the night progressed, Reneé shared stories of her travels and the quirks of being a performer. Y/n found herself captivated by Reneé's candid tales, feeling a growing connection with the artist.

The conversation took a more personal turn, and Y/n, feeling a bold surge of confidence, asked, "So, Reneé, what's the most exciting city you've explored so far?"

Reneé paused, contemplating her answer, "That's a tough one. Every city has its charm, but I have a soft spot for the unexpected gems – the hidden cafes, the bustling markets, and, of course, the local pizza joints."

Y/n leaned in, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips, "Well, you've found a pretty great pizza joint tonight. And the company is not too bad either."

Reneé, catching on to the playful tone, replied, "I must say, this turned out to be quite the memorable night. Maybe I'll have to make exploring cities with charming locals a regular thing."

As the night unfolded, the trio shared more laughs, pizza slices dwindling, and the connection between Y/n and Reneé deepening. Anabelle, ever the observant sister, couldn't help but revel in the chemistry unfolding before her eyes.

Eventually, the pizzeria began to empty out, and as they wrapped up their meal, Reneé discreetly checked the time. She sighed, "As much as I'd love to continue this pizza adventure, I have another concert tomorrow, and an early morning soundcheck."

Y/n, with a playful pout, remarked, "Well, I guess we can't keep a pop star from her duties. It's been a pleasure, Reneé."

Reneé smiled, "The pleasure was all mine. Maybe our paths will cross again someday."

As they bid each other farewell outside the pizzeria, Y/n and Anabelle watched Reneé disappear into the night, the city's glow casting a soft halo around the departing pop star. The unexpected encounter had transformed a regular night into an extraordinary one, leaving Y/n and Anabelle with memories of laughter, pizza, and the captivating allure of Reneé Rapp.

The night air was crisp as Y/n stepped out of the pizzeria, pulling her jacket tighter around her. As she reached for her jacket pocket, she discovered a small folded note tucked inside. Curiosity piqued, she unfolded it to find Reneé's handwriting, along with a phone number and a cute note that read, "Pizza dates and more adventures? Call me!"

A delighted grin spread across Y/n's face, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. Anabelle, noticing her sister's expression, raised an eyebrow, "What's got you smiling like that?"

Y/n held up the note, "Look what I found in my jacket pocket. Reneé left her number and a cute message!"

Anabelle's eyes widened, "No way! She really wants to hang out again?"

Y/n nodded, "Seems like it. I guess tonight just got even more interesting."

Meanwhile, Reneé, making her way back to the hotel, couldn't wipe the smile off her face. Her band and crew noticed the change in her demeanor and exchanged amused glances.

One of the band members teased, "Reneé, where were you tonight? You've got that smugly grin like you've got a secret."

Reneé chuckled, "Just exploring the city a bit. You know me, always on the lookout for hidden gems."

The crew exchanged knowing looks, but no one pressed further. Little did they know that their pop star had spent the night sharing pizza and laughter with two fans who had now become unexpected friends.

The next morning, as Reneé went through sound checks, Y/n mustered the courage to send her a shy text. "Hey, it's Y/n. Hope you don't mind me texting. Last night was amazing. 😊"

Reneé's response was swift and confident, "Hey! I'm glad you reached out. I had a great time too. Can't stop thinking about it. 😘"

The message from Reneé popped up on Y/n's phone four hours before the concert: "Hey, I'm free for the next three hours. Want to meet up?"

Y/n, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, quickly replied, "Sure! Why not come over to my place, and we can figure out our plan from there?"

Reneé's response was confident, "Sounds like a plan. Send me your address, and I'll be there."

As Y/n typed out her address, Anabelle, who had been eagerly waiting, paced back and forth in the living room. "Y/n, is this really happening? She's coming here? What do I wear?"

Y/n chuckled, "Calm down, Annie. Just be yourself. And breathe. It's just a hangout."

As the clock ticked down, Y/n and Anabelle made some last-minute preparations. Y/n, feeling a slight nervous excitement, decided to freshen up. She showered and chose a casual yet stylish ensemble – black skinny jeans, a white tank top, a red and black flannel tied around her waist, and her trusty Converse sneakers.

Anabelle, still buzzing with anticipation, opted for her Snow Angel Tour sweatpants and hoodie, a cherished souvenir from the concert. She looked up at Y/n with wide eyes, "Do I look okay? What if I say something dumb?"

Y/n reassured her, "You look great, Annie. And don't worry about saying anything dumb. Just be yourself. Reneé is cool, remember?"

Meanwhile, at the hotel, Reneé took a moment to freshen up and decided on an effortlessly stylish look. She slipped into low-waist loose ripped denim jeans, the waistband of her boxer showing fashionably just above the jeans. Her crop top humorously read 'Can a gay girl get an Amen,' paired with some Jordans. Her hair was pulled back into a loosely tied ponytail.

As she headed out, her band members and crew exchanged amused glances. One of them teased, "Where are you off to, Reneé? Another city exploration?"

Reneé smirked, "You could say that. Got some plans with new friends. Keep the show running without me for a bit, yeah?"

They chuckled, knowing Reneé's penchant for city adventures. Meanwhile, Y/n and Anabelle awaited her arrival with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

When Reneé arrived at Y/n's apartment, she was greeted by the sisters, Anabelle's eyes wide with awe. Y/n, trying to play it cool, grinned and gestured for her to come in.

As Reneé walked into Y/n's apartment, the atmosphere was filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation. Y/n, ever the gracious host, offered Reneé something to drink. "Coffee, tea, or something else? I've got a few options."

Reneé, smiling, replied, "Water is perfect, thanks. Don't want to get too fancy."

As the trio settled into the living room, Anabelle, now slightly more at ease, asked shyly, "Is it okay if I put on some music? I promise it won't be too loud."

Reneé grinned, "Absolutely! Go ahead. I'm up for anything."

Anabelle eagerly scrolled through her playlist, trying to find the perfect tunes for the occasion. Meanwhile, Y/n, seizing the opportunity, busied herself in the kitchen, making some snacks for their impromptu hangout. She couldn't help but steal glances at Reneé and her sister, marveling at the casual charm the pop star exuded.

With snacks ready, Y/n joined them in the living room. Anabelle, now playing some upbeat tunes, had a content smile on her face as she enjoyed the surreal experience of hanging out with Reneé.

Reneé, sensing a chance to get a moment alone with Y/n, subtly shifted the conversation. "Your apartment is really cozy, Y/n. How long have you been living here?"

Y/n, pleased with the compliment, replied, "About two years now. It's nothing fancy, but it's home."

Anabelle, sensing the subtle shift, excused herself to grab a drink from the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Reneé alone for a moment.

Reneé, taking the opportunity, leaned in slightly, "You know, Y/n, I really enjoyed our pizza date and exploring the city. There's something about you that's just... intriguing."

Y/n, feeling a mix of flattery and nerves, smiled, "The feeling is mutual, Reneé. You're not your typical pop star, and I mean that in the best way possible."

Reneé, now fully embracing the flirtatious atmosphere, added with a playful smirk, "Well, I can be your not-so-typical pop star any day."

Y/n chuckled, "I'd like that."

As the evening unfolded, the trio continued chatting, laughing, and enjoying the music. Anabelle, sensing the growing connection between her sister and the pop star, couldn't help but smile at the unfolding romance.

After a delightful three hours, Reneé reluctantly checked the time. "As much as I'd love to stay longer, I've got to head back. Concert duties and all."

Anabelle, wide-eyed, asked, "Are we going to the concert again tonight?"

Reneé grinned, "Better than that. How about you two join me backstage? You'll get the VIP treatment."

Y/n and Anabelle exchanged stunned glances before excitedly agreeing. Reneé led them to the concert venue, where the backstage buzz added an extra layer of excitement. The sisters marveled at the behind-the-scenes action, meeting crew members and soaking in the atmosphere.

As Reneé prepared for the concert, she stole a moment alone with Y/n. "I really enjoyed our time together, Y/n. How about we continue this after the concert? Maybe grab a late-night snack?"

Y/n, feeling a rush of excitement, nodded, "I'd love that. You know where to find me."

The concert unfolded in a whirlwind of lights, music, and cheering fans. Y/n and Anabelle, now backstage, marveled at the energy of the performance. Reneé, in her element, gave a show-stopping performance that left the audience in awe.

As the vibrant energy of the concert still lingered, Y/n and Anabelle found themselves in Reneé's dressing room, a space filled with the afterglow of the show. Laughter and shared moments unfolded, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie.

Y/n, now finding herself drawn to Reneé on a deeper level, couldn't help but feel a twinge of something more than friendship. Reneé, too, felt a magnetic pull towards Y/n. The dressing room, filled with the buzz of the evening, became a backdrop for the unspoken connection between them.

As the conversation flowed, Y/n noticed the tour manager mentioning that they would leave with the tour bus whenever Reneé was ready. The realization that this was the last night Reneé would be in Belgium sank in, adding a bittersweet tinge to the atmosphere.

Reneé, glancing at the clock, hesitated for a moment. She didn't want the night to end, especially with Y/n. Summoning her courage, she asked the manager, "Till how late can we go out tonight?"

The manager, looking at the schedule, replied, "We're leaving around 3 in the morning, so you've got a few hours."

Reneé, her mind racing, turned to Y/n, "How about dinner at your place? I'd love to spend more time with you."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, "That sounds perfect. My place it is."

Anabelle, sensing the growing connection between her sister and the pop star, chimed in, "Actually, I was about to stay at a friend's place tonight. You know, to give you two some space."

Y/n, with a teasing grin, replied, "Anabelle, you're always welcome, but thanks for the subtle hint."

Anabelle winked, "Just looking out for you, big sister."

As Y/n and Reneé entered the apartment, the cozy atmosphere welcomed them. Y/n, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, decided to play it cool. "So, Reneé, what do you feel like having for dinner?"

Reneé, with a playful smile, replied, "Surprise me. I trust your culinary skills."

Y/n, pretending to be a seasoned chef, nodded, "Alright, you asked for it. I'll whip up something special."

As Y/n disappeared into the kitchen, Reneé made herself comfortable in the living room. Y/n, wanting to set the mood, decided to bring out a bottle of wine. As she opened the bottle, a sudden misstep caused her to trip, sending the wine cascading onto Reneé's clothes.

Y/n, eyes wide, exclaimed, "Oh, shoot! I am so sorry. This is a disaster!"

Reneé, trying to hide a laugh, reassured her, "It's alright, accidents happen. I'm sure I've spilled more wine on myself at some point."

Y/n, feeling embarrassed, muttered a few choice words as she rushed to find something to clean up the mess. In the midst of her haste, she accidentally knocked over a plant, adding to the chaos.

Reneé, now unable to contain her laughter, said, "Well, this is certainly an eventful dinner."

Y/n, offering an apologetic smile, suggested, "How about you change into something more comfortable? I'll clean up this mess, and dinner will be ready soon."

Reneé agreed, "Sure, sounds like a plan. Do you have anything I could borrow?"

Y/n, with a mischievous grin, teased, "Oh, I've got just the thing."

As Y/n rummaged through her closet, she found a pair of comfy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. She handed them to Reneé, who looked at the casual attire with amusement.

Reneé, holding up the clothes, chuckled, "You really know how to show a pop star a good time."

Y/n winked, "Always aiming for comfort here."

With the mess cleaned up and Reneé changed into the cozy ensemble, they reconvened in the living room. Y/n, trying to recover from the clumsy incident, poured them fresh glasses of wine.

As they settled in for dinner, Y/n, trying to steer the conversation away from her earlier mishap, asked, "So, Reneé, what's your favorite type of cuisine?"

Reneé, digging into the food with enthusiasm, replied, "I'm a fan of Italian. Pasta, pizza – you can't go wrong."

Y/n smiled, "Good choice. Maybe next time, I'll make my famous pasta dish."

As the night progressed, Y/n and Reneé found themselves engrossed in conversation, laughter echoing through the apartment. The initial awkwardness had transformed into a comfortable camaraderie.

With dinner finished, they moved to the living room to watch a movie. Unbeknownst to them, the close proximity and shared laughter gradually drew them closer on the couch.

As the movie played, Y/n, feeling a flutter of nerves, glanced at Reneé. The pop star, seemingly unaware, was absorbed in the film. Y/n, summoning courage, inched a little closer.

The shared glances and subtle movements continued throughout the movie until, almost instinctively, their lips met in a tender kiss. The atmosphere shifted, and the room seemed to buzz with an unspoken connection.

Reneé, breaking the kiss with a playful smile, said, "Well, this turned out to be a night to remember."

Y/n, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, replied, "Definitely unexpected, but I'm not complaining."

As the night continued, Y/n and Reneé shared more kisses, their laughter blending with the soundtrack of the movie playing in the background. The initial awkwardness had given way to a sweet and thrilling connection, a moment frozen in time as they navigated the uncharted territory of newfound attraction.

As the clock ticked towards the early hours of the morning, Y/n and Reneé, still wrapped up in each other, exchanged smiles, knowing that this unexpected night had etched itself into their memories forever.

In the midst of their passionate moment, just as Y/n and Reneé were lost in the magic of the night, a subtle buzz emanated from Reneé's phone. She reluctantly pulled away, casting a regretful look at her screen.

With a sigh, she said, "I've got a message from my manager. I need to get back to the tour bus. Duty calls."

Y/n, feeling a pang of disappointment, nodded understandingly. "I get it. Tour life and all. Where's your next stop?"

Reneé, a hint of sadness in her eyes, replied, "Amsterdam. But honestly, I'm not in the mood for it right now."

Y/n, always quick to find a solution, suggested, "How about I walk you back to the tour bus? You can change back into your stage clothes, and I'll make sure you get there safely."

Reneé, appreciating the gesture, began to undress to return the comfy clothes. Y/n, however, intervened, saying, "You know what? Keep those. Borrow them. Return them whenever we cross paths again."

Reneé, looking at Y/n with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, agreed, "Alright. I'll take you up on that offer. Whenever we see each other again, I'll return these and maybe get another movie night."

As they walked back to the concert venue, the atmosphere had shifted. Reneé, usually confident and composed, felt a flutter of nervousness. Y/n, sensing the change, smiled and said, "You know, Reneé, if you ever want to talk or facetime, I'm just a message away."

Reneé, with a shy smile, replied, "I might take you up on that. A lot."

The tour bus loomed ahead, and as they reached the entrance, Reneé hesitated. "Well, this is it."

Y/n, trying to lighten the mood, teased, "Don't forget to return those clothes when you become a famous pop star."

Reneé, with a laugh, promised, "I won't. And who knows, maybe I'll see you in Amsterdam?"

Y/n, feeling a twinge of hope, replied, "Maybe. Safe travels, Reneé."

As Reneé stepped onto the tour bus, she glanced back at Y/n with a warm smile. The bus pulled away, leaving Y/n standing in the quiet night, contemplating the unexpected turn of events.

As Y/n watched the tour bus fade into the night, the hum of its engines gradually disappearing, a mix of emotions surged within her. The thrill of the night's unexpected adventure lingered, but a tinge of sadness settled in as reality set in – Reneé was now on her way to Amsterdam for the next leg of the tour.

Feeling a sense of both butterflies and longing, Y/n walked back to her apartment, the quiet streets of Antwerp echoing with the memories of a night that felt both surreal and magical. Once inside, she received a cute and flirty text from Reneé, making her heart flutter.

"Miss me already?" Reneé's message read, accompanied by a playful emoji.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at the text. "Maybe a little," she replied, adding a winking emoji for good measure.

Meanwhile, Anabelle returned home, noticing her sister's pensive expression. "How was your night, big sister?"

Y/n, still processing the whirlwind of events, replied, "It was...something. Reneé is something else."

Anabelle grinned, "Something else, huh? Do tell."

Y/n chuckled, giving her sister a brief rundown of the night's escapades – from the concert to the impromptu hangout and the unexpected connection with the pop star.

As Y/n settled back into her apartment, she received another text from Reneé, who was now curled up in the comfy clothes that still carried the faint scent of Y/n. The message read, "These clothes smell like you. I kinda love it."

Y/n, feeling a warmth spread through her, replied, "Glad you like them. Comfortable, right?"

Reneé teased, "I might keep them forever."

Y/n, with a playful smirk, shot back, "Well, I expect them back at some point. Or maybe you'll have to come get them yourself."

Reneé, in her usual flirtatious manner, replied, "Maybe I'll do just that. A visit to Antwerp sounds enticing."

As the conversation continued, Y/n couldn't shake the excitement and curiosity about Reneé's upcoming shows in Amsterdam. "So, how many shows do you have lined up there?" she asked.

Reneé shared the details, and they bantered back and forth about the tour schedule. Y/n, in an attempt to lighten the mood, suggested, "If you ever need an Amsterdam tour guide, you know where to find me."

Reneé, with a smirk, replied, "I might take you up on that offer."

As Anabelle overheard the conversation, she chimed in, "You guys are like a long-distance couple already."

Y/n, blushing slightly, rolled her eyes playfully, "It's not like that. We're just... friends."

Anabelle winked, "Sure, big sister. Friends who send cute texts and plan visits."

The next day, as Reneé and the tour bus traveled towards Amsterdam, Y/n and Reneé decided to facetime. Y/n smiled as she saw Reneé, still comfortably nestled in the borrowed clothes, in the bunk bed of the bus.

Y/n teased, "I see you're making the most of those comfy clothes."

Reneé, with a playful twinkle in her eyes, replied, "They're my new favorite attire. Thanks for the upgrade."

Y/n couldn't help but find it endearing how Reneé looked in the oversized hoodie and sweatpants. They chatted about the journey, the upcoming shows, and everything in between. Anabelle, passing by, couldn't resist a comment, "You two are like a facetime couple now."

Y/n, trying to play it cool, shrugged, "Just catching up with a friend."

As the facetime call continued, Y/n and Reneé found themselves sharing stories, laughter, and even planning potential meet-ups in the future. The miles between them seemed to vanish as the virtual connection deepened.

As noon approached, Reneé was in the midst of her pre-show routine, preparing for the evening performance in Amsterdam. FaceTiming with Y/n had become a delightful ritual, a way to share moments even when miles apart.

Reneé, perched in front of her dressing room mirror, was meticulously doing her makeup and choosing the perfect outfit for the night. On the other side of the screen, Y/n was busy in her kitchen, multitasking between cooking and flirting with the pop star.

"You know," Y/n teased, stirring a pot on the stove, "I can't promise my cooking is as good as your performances, but it's worth a shot."

Reneé, smirking, replied, "I might need a taste test to confirm that."

The playful banter continued, a mix of sweet compliments and flirty remarks that seemed to linger in the air. As Reneé finished her makeup, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing for the physical presence of Y/n.

"You know, Y/n," Reneé sighed, "I miss you. This tour feels a bit empty without our impromptu hangouts."

Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes, replied, "Who says the hangouts can't continue? I might have a surprise for you."

Reneé, intrigued, raised an eyebrow, "A surprise? Do tell."

Y/n, suppressing a smile, said, "Maybe we'll meet sooner than you think. But you'll have to wait and see."

The mystery added an element of excitement to Reneé's day. The thought of a surprise from Y/n lingered in her mind as she continued her preparations for the show.

The next day arrived, and as Reneé and Y/n had facetimed in the morning, everything seemed normal. However, an hour before Reneé's evening show, Y/n had gone silent. Calls and texts from Reneé went unanswered, causing a surge of anxiety to ripple through her.

Reneé, fidgeting with her phone, tried one more time to reach Y/n. The screen indicated that Y/n had read the message, but there was no response. The pop star, feeling a mix of worry and disappointment, reluctantly headed toward the stage.

As Reneé began her performance, the energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the music served as a temporary distraction. However, a lingering sadness persisted. Two songs into the set, Reneé scanned the audience and caught a glimpse of a sign held up by a fan. It read, "Maybe return the comfy clothes after the show?"

Intrigued, Reneé tried to read the sign more closely. Suddenly, she realized who was holding it – none other than Y/n herself. The surprise she had alluded to during their FaceTime conversations was unfolding right before Reneé's eyes.

A mix of shock and delight played across Reneé's face. She couldn't believe Y/n was there, in the crowd, with a playful sign in hand. The realization dawned on her, and a smile spread across her face, dispelling the earlier sadness.

As the set continued, Reneé performed with renewed energy, fueled by the unexpected presence of Y/n. The crowd, unaware of the connection between the pop star and the mysterious fan, enjoyed the show, while Reneé occasionally exchanged knowing glances with Y/n.

After the performance, as Reneé made her way backstage, the anticipation of the surprise hung in the air. Y/n, still holding the sign, approached with a mischievous smile.

Reneé, unable to contain her excitement, exclaimed, "You're the surprise! What are you doing here?"

Y/n, grinning, replied, "Well, you mentioned missing our hangouts. I thought, why not surprise you in person?"

Reneé, feeling a rush of emotions, pulled Y/n into a tight hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me," she whispered.

As Reneé and Y/n shared a tight embrace, Y/n instinctively wrapped her arms around Reneé's waist. A playful giggle escaped Reneé's lips, the shared laughter echoing through the backstage area. The crew, sensing the intimate moment, discreetly walked away, giving the two some privacy.

Reneé, still holding onto Y/n, looked into her eyes with a soft smile. "You know," she teased, "if I knew a surprise visit would get me such a warm reception, I might have done it sooner."

Y/n, with a playful grin, replied, "Well, I'm all about warm receptions, especially for pop stars."

Reneé chuckled, "I might need to arrange more surprise visits then."

As the backstage buzzed with activity, Reneé leaned in, her lips close to Y/n's ear. "So, any plans after the show? Care to join me back at the hotel?"

Y/n, feeling a rush of excitement, nodded. "I'd love to. Lead the way."

The duo made their way through the backstage area, exchanging glances and playful banter. As they stepped out into the cool Amsterdam night, the city lights cast a warm glow, creating a romantic ambiance.

Reneé's hotel was just a short distance away. The walk was filled with shared stories, laughter, and the kind of easy conversation that comes from a connection that transcends the boundaries of mere friendship.

Arriving at the hotel, Reneé led Y/n to her room. The anticipation of spending more time together lingered in the air. The room was adorned with the signature charm of a traveling artist – a mix of tour essentials and personal touches that made it feel like a temporary home.

Reneé, with a playful twinkle in her eyes, gestured to the cozy seating area. "Make yourself at home," she said, "I'll just grab us some drinks."

As Y/n settled into the comfortable surroundings, Reneé returned with a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine. The night unfolded with shared laughter, stories from the road, and the kind of connection that felt both familiar and thrilling.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp x fem!reader #reneé rapp x reader #reneé rapp x fem!reader #renee rapp

250 notes · View notes

podcastenthusiast · 1 year

Text

"Here should be safe to set up camp," Geralt says, scanning the treeline with his eyes in that odd witcher way. Like he's seeing much more than a mere mortal could.

"Thank the gods," sighs Jaskier, who's been really starting to regret skiving off those physical fitness courses at Oxenfurt.

"Get a fire started while I tend to Roach."

"Oh Geralt, I'd love to, I would. Truly it's colder than a sorceress' shapely—"

"Jaskier."

"Well, as they say: you can lead a bard to timber, but you can't make him—"

"Just do it, Jaskier."

"I don't know how! All right? I've never built a fire in the middle of nowhere before! It's not one of the seven liberal arts, and I much prefer my fires stoked by comely barmaids in taverns."

Geralt looks at him for a long moment. It's a complicated look—frustration and amusement and a hint of regret. Mostly it's a look that says Jaskier is an idiot for joining him on the Path.

"Right," Geralt says slowly. He begins building the campfire himself.

"I imagine they teach wilderness survival to baby witchers at witcher school."

Geralt looks at him again and there's something different in his expression. The ghost of a smile? Jaskier doesn't quite know how to read it.

"Kaer Morhen," he says. "And yeah. Something like that."

"Oh?" Jaskier has to rein in his enthusiasm, his curious questions. Geralt so rarely reveals anything personal about himself or his past. Not that Jaskier has been forthcoming in that regard either. They live in the moment, day by day, but some context would help his creative process.

Besides all that, he genuinely wants to get to know Geralt a little better.

"Vesemir took me out into the forest one day. Gave me a knife and left me there for a month."

There is no bitterness in his words. If anything, the witcher sounds...almost fond. Nostalgic. Proud of his younger self for overcoming the challenges his mentors set before him.

It takes a moment for the true meaning of that to sink in and, once it does, Jaskier is horrified. His own parents weren't great, but even they would never simply abandon him.

"He just— like as a test— what—?"

"Real eloquent, bard. I doubt he had any choice. Probably wasn't even supposed to give me anything."

"How old were you?" he demands, unsure if any answer will make this revelation less abhorrent.

"Six? Seven? Maybe eight. I don't know." Geralt makes a gesture with his fingers and the pile of wood beneath his hand sparks with flame. "Not old enough to have learned Igni yet."

He can picture it, too, so vividly. Curse his dammed artist's imagination. Geralt, just a kid, alone and scared and definitely cold—because no one bothered to teach him how to start a fire.

"Stop it," the witcher snaps.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that. I'm fine. I was fine back then. Wasn't so bad at all compared to the Grasses. Vesemir came back for me like he said he would. I survived the trial—no, I didn't just survive; I exceeded all expectations, which is why they..." The witcher trails off. Takes a breath.

All of that... It's quite a lot of words for Geralt. Honest words, even.

It's his job to talk, to sing, to commit the most painful and difficult experiences to beautiful poetic verse. But Jaskier doesn't know what to say to his friend right now. Surely he has to say something.

"Geralt..."

"Don't waste your pity. Save it for the ones who didn't make it through. I did."

"Okay," the bard replies, careful and tentative. He isn't a brave man, nor a particularly kind one. But Jaskier considers himself an honest fellow so he adds, "Just because you made it through, you know, that doesn't mean what happened to you was all right, Geralt. Children aren't supposed to be left alone to fend for themselves."

The witcher laughs—a humorless, wretched sound. He doesn't say anything at all to that. Which is okay, really; Jaskier just needed him to hear it.

There is a long silence. The fire crackles. Jaskier absently strums his lute.

"You're gonna write a ballad about this, aren't you," Geralt says after a while.

"No!" Maybe. Yes. He won't perform it.

"Hm."

The fire crackles.

Quite out of the blue, Geralt tells him, "I befriended a wolf back then."

"What? You're joking!"

"Witchers don't have a sense of humor. Common knowledge."

"Common misconception. Most people are just stupid. No, hang on, stop distracting me—You had a pet wolf?!"

"Not a pet," the witcher corrects, smiling faintly. "Fangtooth was her own wolf."

"Fangtooth?" Jaskier repeats, struggling to contain his amusement. "Not Roach?"

"No."

"Forgive me, but that's adorable."

"I was just a child. I wanted to stay with her in the wilderness. Be a wolf, too. Or a knight." He shakes his head dismissively. Silly childish dreams.

"But you didn't," Jaskier says. And feels stupid for saying something so obvious.

"Too late for that," Geralt replies without reproach. "I was already a witcher."

"As a child, I wanted to run away and join the circus," the bard offers.

"Of course you did."

They're quiet for a moment then. Comfortable, shared silence. Just the sounds of birds and forest creatures, and Roach contentedly eating grass. The fire crackles.

"Geralt, will you teach me to light a fire? Without witcher magic, obviously, since I don't have any."

"Why?"

"Because...well, because I could be a more useful traveling companion. Like Fangtooth must've been."

"...Fine," Geralt agrees after some thought.

It is a skill he will be very grateful to have on freezing nights in the coming years, especially whenever the witcher is too injured or ill from those dreadful potions to help set up camp. He will try not to think of the child Geralt once was, subjected to horrific tests of his ability to survive all on his own.

Except he hadn't been on his own back then, not completely. And he isn't alone anymore, either.

#whisking canons and headcanons together until i get the hurt/comfort i need #this time it's twn jaskier and stuff but some hexer geralt backstory #the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier fic #witcher fanfiction #possibly part of a series where jaskier realizes how fucked up geralt's childhood was

1K notes · View notes

posh--bee · 1 year

Text

Ein Kompliment || König

pairing → König x Reader

summary → König comes home from deployment to find you singing and dancing to a German song in your kitchen—completely surprised by how well you speak his language.

warnings → none, just tooth-rotting fluff, no descriptions or pronouns used for reader, no y/n used

author’s note → This is just a self-indulgent domestic little oneshot because I felt nostalgic for some German music from when I was younger :) The title means “a compliment” and it’s also the name of the song. You can listen to it here. Also, I have literally no clue about CoD and never played one of the games for even a second, but this man still managed to steal my heart.

word count → 2.1k

König could hear the music blaring even through the closed front door of your home, the muffled sound of electric guitars, drums, and the singer’s voice greeting him when he put the spare key you had trusted him with early on in your relationship in the lock and turned it.

The door opened and the music became even louder, clearly originating from the little radio you had in your kitchen, and a smile formed on König’s face when your cheerful voice joined the singer. From the sound of it, König guessed that you were in the kitchen as well and he carefully placed his bag next to your shoe rack, not wanting to give his presence away just yet. He had intentionally told you he wouldn’t come back home to you for another week just so he could surprise you. The lie had left a foul aftertaste when he had told you and the disappointment in your voice had nearly broken his heart, but in the end it would be worth it, he had told himself, seeing your face light up in delight when you spotted him and jumping into his arms, clinging to him and covering his whole face in the sweetest kisses, the sound of your joined laughter filling your home.

König couldn’t wait to finally see you again, the weeks and months without you by his side were nothing short but torture for him, but he forced himself to take slow and silent steps towards your kitchen, not wanting to ruin the surprise so close before its grand reveal. Despite his size and mass his heavy combat boots made almost no sound against the wooden floor of your hallway, and he was confident that with the help of your music playing you wouldn’t notice him until he stood directly behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, probably giving you the fright of your life before you recognized your gentle giant, scolding him with giggles and kisses for scaring you like this.

König couldn’t shake the smile that pulled on his lips at the thought of it, but a sudden realization made him stop dead in his tracks, just outside of the open door of your kitchen. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it sooner but the song that had been playing since he had arrived wasn’t in English—it was in German.

And you were singing to it.

König’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he stayed still while listening to the sounds coming from your kitchen, wanting to make sure that all the blows to the head he had received during missions didn’t manifest as him suddenly hearing something that wasn’t actually real.

After a few more moments of concentrated listening, he came to the conclusion that he didn’t suffer from an auditory hallucination and that you were indeed singing along to a German song even though you had claimed to not speak his language. Your pronunciation was a little bit off, that much was true, but you more than made up for it with your enthusiasm while singing along to the lyrics and König wondered with a frown why you had never told him how well you spoke German. Needing to investigate this surprising discovery further, he peered into the kitchen, dimly remembering having heard the song playing on the radio from time to time over the years, the first time probably even before he had joined the German Armed Forces.

The sight König was met with left him breathless in the best way possible, a warm feeling spreading in his chest while he watched you dance to the music in the middle of your kitchen, singing into a clean whisk with your back towards him, completely oblivious to his presence. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, couldn’t move a muscle or find his voice to let you know he was home, just watching you with pure adoration in his eyes, his heart almost bursting with all the emotions he was feeling at this moment.

You were still dressed in your pajamas, your feet sliding along the tiled floor with your movements because of the fuzzy socks you were wearing, stumbling over some longer words in the lyrics of the song but continuing to sing all the same. The bright and clear morning light shining through the kitchen windows illuminated the room almost magically and created a halo around your head, and König swore if he had a ring with him right now, he wouldn’t have wasted any more time and go down one knee, asking you to spend the rest of your life with him—even though he hadn’t had the guts yet to tell you that he loved you.

Just when the second verse of the song came to an end you suddenly spun around and spotted him, freezing for a few seconds to process that your boyfriend was home already and standing in your kitchen before your eyes lit up and the smile on your face became blinding. König opened his mouth in an attempt to greet you, to tell you how happy he was to be back and how much he had missed you, but his voice was still lost, not being prepared to be caught by you, his grand reveal now ruined.

You however weren’t deterred by this surprising turn of events at all, you were nothing short of ecstatic to see him again and König couldn’t help the big smile on his lips, readying himself to catch you when you jumped into his arms like you always did. But it seemed you had other plans and instead of your usual greeting you lifted the whisk back to your mouth with a twinkle in your beautiful eyes, pointing at him with your other hand. König lifted an eyebrow in confusion, wanting to ask what you were doing but you preempted him, joining the song still playing on the radio again, singing the refrain to him, your eyes never leaving his.

Ich wollte dir nur mal eben sagen

I just wanted to tell you

Dass du das Größte für mich bist

That you are the greatest thing to me

Und sichergeh’n, ob du denn dasselbe für mich fühlst

And to make sure you feel the same way about me

Für mich fühlst

About me

Your little performance left him speechless for the second time that day, still dumbfounded by how well you spoke German, not to mention that the meaning of the words you were singing to him pulled at his heartstrings. You were always vocal about your feelings for him, never hesitating to tell him just how much he meant to you, but hearing you sing something like this to him in his own language made him absolutely weak in the knees.

And of course this was when you decided to run to your boyfriend and jump into his arms after all, completely catching him off guard and for a moment he struggled to hold you up which was something that had never happened before. But once you had your arms securely wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, he held you with ease and was promptly rewarded for it with a beaming smile and a kiss on his cheek.

“I missed you so much,” you sighed and pressed your forehead to his, overcome by a wave of emotions at his early return home. The weeks and months without him were always lonely, your bed feeling cold and empty without your personal heater holding you close at night and refusing to let you go, your whole house not feeling complete without your boyfriend lounging on your couch or sitting at the table and doodling in his sketchbook, quietly humming to himself.

“I missed you too,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you deeply, blindly walking you both towards the kitchen counter and gently setting you down on it, only breaking the kiss when you ran out of breath. You smiled up at him and put the whisk down beside you in favor of cupping König’s face with both hands, your thumbs caressing his skin, running along the prominent scar on his lips and the slight stubble along his jaw.

His eyes fell closed as he leaned into your touch, his body relaxing against yours but still cautious not to put too much of his weight on you, feeling truly at home now that you were in his arms again. But there was still a question on his mind that he couldn’t shake off, so he quickly reached for the radio that was playing a new song by now and turned it down before asking, “When did you learn to speak German so well?”

The smile on your lips became bashful and it was one of the few times in your relationship that you had to avert your gaze from him, usually König was the one struggling with maintaining eye contact even after being with you for some time already.

“I started learning it when we got together. I used some apps and stuff and started to listen to German songs as well, that really helped. I wanted to surprise you one day when I’d more confident with speaking it,” you admitted in a small but proud voice, delighted that he thought you were good at his language already despite being caught before you considered yourself the same way.

König stared down at you while his mind struggled to process your words, wondering if you had made it your personal mission to render him speechless as often as possible today because so far you had been doing a fantastic job at that. He hid his face in the crook of your neck when you looked up at him again, too overwhelmed to from any kind of verbal response to your explanation, his heart beating violently against his ribcage. He hadn’t thought it was possible to fall even deeper in love with you but here you were, proving him wrong again and again, now by secretly learning German just for him.

With a sympathetic chuckle you allowed him the time he needed to collect himself, wordlessly rubbing up and down his back with one hand while gently running your fingers through his hair with the other one, making him hum in appreciation.

You smiled up at your gentle giant when he untangled himself from you again and took one of your hands in his much larger ones, calloused fingers nervously playing with yours, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears. You quirked your eyebrow at him, wanting to ask him if he was okay when he locked eyes with you, a resolute look on his face that made you understand just how important his next words would be to him.

You sat up straighter, your heart beating faster and a pleasant and warm feeling settling in your stomach at being in the center of his undivided attention, at having him look at you like you were the most important thing in the whole universe.

And to him you were just that which is why he couldn’t let any more time pass without him telling you just how much you meant to him, making sure you knew that he felt the same way about you.

König’s voice faltered slightly when he began to speak but he was determined to finally express the true depths of his feelings for you, his fingers tightening around yours, the feeling of your warm skin against his grounding and calming him, encouraging him to carry on.

“You are, without a doubt, the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and you make me the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. A-and what I’m trying to say with that is that I love you. I love you so much.”

Hearing his words and the sincerity in them made your heart skip several beats and you felt tears of pure joy welling up in your eyes, unable to say anything in response. König constantly showed his love for you in other ways and you had never doubted his feelings for you even once since the beginning of your relationship, but hearing him say it out loud touched you deeply, making you the happiest you had ever been in your life.

You gave him a teary smile and before König could even think about apologizing for making you cry you pressed your lips to his, pouring all of your emotions into the kiss, making him gasp quietly at the intensity of it. You chuckled affectionately at the displeased look on his face when you pulled back all too soon, but you just shook your head, lovingly gazing up at him before softly saying,

“Ich liebe dich auch.”

You loved him too.

#könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig imagine #konig x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty

2K notes · View notes