#(DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG AGO THIS WAS WHEN IT WAS NEW!!!!!)

[bitchface24-7]

FORGIVE ME FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring and you were so scared you were going to lose it.

You were the perfect daughter. Until your church introduced two young, handsome priests. Father Viktor and Father Jayce.

warnings: religion (I'm roman catholic pls leave me alone with my dirty fantasies) power imbalance, age difference (reader is 19, J + V are early 30s), corruption kink, innocence kink (girly they go feral when they see the purity ring necklace), loss of virginity, voice kink, hand kink, inappropriate thoughts, mentions of masturbation, confessional, dirty talk, pussyjob, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, risky sex, squirting, semi-public sex (you're at the church but it’s not busy.) two smut scenes (VxR and JxR, the end suggests a threesome), J + V got big dicks, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f (m/m/f suggested at the end)

p.s. I know I don't want to seem like a horny degenerate but this was too good to pass up! If anyone wants fluff, angst, etc. shoot me a request and I'll write it as soon as I can!

You've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain around your neck every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring; you were terrified you were going to lose it.

You wear modest clothes every day. A mixture of pants, long skirts (no shorter than just below the knee), button-ups, cardigans, sweaters, long-sleeve shirts, dresses, and the odd high-neck t-shirt. You have to have at least one option when the weather gets hot.

Luckily for you, you weren't picked on in school. But at the same time, you didn't have many friends. People liked you because you’re kind and helpful, but they didn't want to become friends because of how modest and prude you were. They were nervous you’d rat them out if they did something “immoral.”

Life went on as normal. The same old same old. You graduated top of your class two years ago, you just recently got a certificate to be a librarian in a little over a month of work, and you got a modest job at your local library due to glowing references, and the older ladies at the library love you. It's your home away from home.

And you still go to church every Sunday. This Sunday was different though. You knew from the service that was held two weeks ago that Father Paul was going to retire. He had gotten too old to do the necessary duties of a priest, and that he was going to find his replacement before he left.

And it looks like he did.

If you have anything to say about the two, young, handsome men standing behind the altar. Wearing the traditional black uniform and white collar.

You feel like your heart is in your throat as Father Paul introduces the two new priests to the congregation. The two men are… very handsome.

Father Paul gestures to one of the men. He's tall, with long hair, beautiful bone structure, and the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. He's holding a cane in one of his hands. Father Paul says his name is Father Viktor.

The elderly man then gestures on the other side of himself to the other man standing there. He's even taller than Father Viktor, bulkier too. His shoulders are broad, his hair is messy, and he has a beard. Father Paul introduces him as Father Jayce.

You subconsciously clench your thighs together as an unknown heat travels down your stomach and into your private bits.

Oh no, you can't help but think to yourself. This isn't going to end well.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Church on Sundays became very popular. Like… ridiculously popular. You saw people at church that you haven't seen since you graduated high school two years ago.

Father Viktor is leading the sermon. His voice was loud, clear, and captivating. His accent made every word sound like it was dripping honey. Before you know it, its time to take the holy communion and the blood of Christ. You rise up from kneeling on the pew and brush imaginary dust off your simple black skirt. You adjust your small black cardigan, and nervously look down at your white button up. Everytime you've ever worn white, you somehow dirty it and it always ruins your mood.

When it's your turn to reach the end of the pew, you curtsey and do the sign of the cross. Your skirt lightly touches the ground. As you follow in line to receive the body of Christ, you silently pray you don’t fall. Before you know it, it’s your turn; and you’re face to face with Father Viktor.

He holds up a small circular piece of bread and calmly states, “The Body of Christ.” You kneel and say, “Amen.” After that, you open your mouth and lightly stick your tongue out. Father Viktor’s hand goes under your chin as he raises your head, and he lightly places the Eucharist onto your tongue. You close your mouth and Father Viktor’s eyes darken as he swallows lightly.

You stand up and after a few steps, you stand in front of Father Jayce for the blood of Christ. The two priests share a look and it’s almost as if they sighed in relief. Only adults can obtain the blood of Christ.

Father Jayce holds up an ornate chalice, “The Blood of Christ.” You smile and repeat, “Amen.” Father Jayce then brings the chalice to your lips and you take a small swig of the wine. You then walk away doing the sign of the cross as you return to your pew.

Your undies are wet and you don’t know why.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been weeks and you feel like you’re going insane. Every moment of every day, Father Viktor and Father Jayce are on your mind. They even plague your dreams.

Your undies get wet, your breathing gets heavy, and your body heats up. You’ve started touching yourself to the thought of them.

It feels so good.

It feels so wrong.

You need to speak to someone about this, but how can you? Your parents will have a meltdown, and you don’t have any friends. You sit in your room stumped before an idea comes to mind. Confessional.

You quickly get dressed into a neutral plaid skirt that just brushes your knees with black pantyhose, a plain black top, and your black loafers. You make sure your purity ring necklace is centred and protected under your shirt before exiting your house. You get into your car and drive to the church.

It’s not too late, just past dinner time. No one will be at the church, except for you and one of the Fathers.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars for the church workers. You park and exit the car, quickly making your way inside.

You appreciate the beauty of the church before finding an empty confessional and ringing a small bell, letting the priests know that someone was waiting for them.

After a few minutes of silence, the other end of the confessional opens up and a priest steps in. It’s hard to tell which priest it is. The lighting is too dark to see.

“Peace be with you.” The priest states. Damn. You can’t even tell which one it is due to their voice, the confessional muffles it too much.

You lightly sigh, “And also with your spirit. It’s been a month since my last confession, Father.”

“And what do you need to confess for?”

Your lips press together as you try to find a way to say this without sounding bad. You can’t. So you decide to be blunt.

“I’ve had lust in my heart, Father. For two men I cannot have. They’re constantly on my mind throughout the day, and plague my dreams when I sleep. I—“

You hesitate to say the next part. You can feel your face heat up as you stutter the next sin, “I touch myself… to— to the thought of them, Father.”

The other side of the confessional is quiet and you feel like crying. Eventually, the priest responds with, “And who are these two men? Are they someone you shall not covet? Such as someone who is married? Someone you’re related to?”

You gulp.

“Someone who is devoted to only one, and that one is God.”

The confessional becomes quiet at that. Before you know it, the door to your side of the confessional is opened. You gasp at the sight of a disheveled Father Viktor. His hair is messy, falling out of the small bun at the back of his head. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge. There’s a small snarl on his face.

“Is this some kind of joke? Do you wish to tempt me to defile you?”

Your eyes widen, “No Father! I speak the truth. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry for my thoughts and desires!”

Father Viktor enters your side of the confessional booth and closes the door behind him. The booth is just big enough to do small adjustments in; but you’re chest to chest with the beautiful priest.

“Say no, and we can pretend this never happened. You can go home and nothing will have changed.”

You nervously bite your lower lip and Father Viktor growls at that, “And… if I say yes?”

Father Viktor crowds you, until you have no room to move and whispers in your ear, “Then you shall become mine.”

A whimper escapes your lips and that’s all the answer Father Viktor needs. He turns your head and kisses you, it’s passionate, it’s frenzied. It’s a little messy.

It’s perfect.

You pant against his mouth as he touches your skirt, “May I?” You nod vigorously and he hikes the skirt up to your waist, ordering you to hold it there with one hand. You can’t help but comply.

Viktor groans when he sees you’re wearing pantyhose. He grabs the seem at your crotch and rips it, causing a gasp to escape your throat. Your undies get even more wet. A diligent finger taps lightly on the soaked fabric, so soaked you might as well not even be wearing it. The thin, white cotton has gone damn near translucent due to your arousal.

The gusset of your undies is pushed to the side as the handsome priest touches you in places you’ve only started to recently touch yourself.

He rubs your clit until it’s pulsing needily. He drags a finger down and teases your entrance, Father Viktor brings his face close to yours; so that as he speaks his lips brush against your own.

“Can I—”

Before he can even finish his sentence, you whine out a small yes.

Father Viktor chuckles and puts his middle finger into your pussy. It's so much longer and thicker than your own. It's reaching places you didn't even know existed.

“You need to learn patience, darling. What if I wanted to shove my cock into you instead, hmm? I'm not sure you can even handle two of my fingers.”

A whiny moan is what he gets in return to his scolding, “I can take two fingers. You heard me in confessional, I've been touching myself constantly now.”

Father Viktor growls at that and starts to finger your pussy faster, a schlick sound is heard throughout the confessional. Eventually, he adds a second finger and rubs your clit with his thumb. You’re gonna cum. You're gonna cum on the hand and fingers of one of the most handsome men you've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Every time you go to church and obtain the body of Christ you'll remember how fucking good those fingers felt inside you.

At your dirty thoughts, you cum. Trying to muffle your squeal into the palm of your hand not holding up your skirt. Father Viktor fingers you through your orgasm, and licks his fingers clean when he's done.

You feel a large bulge on your hip, “Do you want any help with that?”

Father Viktor chuckles, “You can't handle too much more, but there is one thing you can do.” he calmly states as he undoes his belt and lightly pulls down his pants and boxers; showing off an impressive dick.

Ok, no wonder he said you can't do much. His dick is massive and you're in a cramped confessional. Not much wiggle room.

Father Viktor slaps his cock against your clit and you gasp, “I'll just rut into your pussy until I cum. Is that okay with you?”

You bite your lip trying and failing to hide your smile, “Mmhm.”

He smiles and slowly starts to rock his dick into your folds. The head of his cock brushes against your clit in such a delicious manner, you won’t be surprised if you cum again.

“Hmm, what’s this?” Father Viktor asks as he notices the chain hidden beneath your shirt. The hand he used to finger you comes up and softly takes hold of the chain, pulling it out of your top to lay outside for once.

His eyes widen and his hips stutter once he realizes what he's looking at, “Is that a purity ring?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Yes?” your tone questioning as it raises in pitch.

The older man groans in an almost feral way before resuming his rutting, going much faster and harder than he was before, “You’re a filthy fucking virgin. Letting a man over a decade older than you rut into your pussy like a common whore.”

You're feeling too much of everything right now. Everything comes to a standstill when the tip of Father Viktors cock catches on the entrance of your pussy. Father Viktor brings a hand down to rub vigorously at your clit and you yelp as you cum for a second time. This time a little dribble of arousal escapes you.

Father Viktor groans as he cums inside you, it’s so warm, and there's so much of it.

You both pant and Father Viktor gives you a final kiss before you both have to clean up to go, this one is much sweeter.

You readjust your underwear and cringe at the cold, wet sensation, you drop your skirt and you ironically thank god that your skirt is long enough that no one else can see the damaged pantyhose.

Viktor redoes his belt and fixes his hair. He exits the confessional and offers out a hand to you, you take it gladly.

You notice his cane is leaning against the outside of the confessional and gasp in worry, “Father, are you okay? I forgot you used a cane. Are you in any pain?”

Father Viktor just smiles at you, “The confessional booth was small enough that I didn't have to worry about moving too much or falling. But thank you for the concern. Also, after what we just did, you can call me Viktor.”

Father— Viktor’s smile turns into a smirk, “Drive safe darling. This Sundays mass shall be quite interesting, don’t you think?”

You giggle as you make your way to the door.

Your footsteps stop when you hear Viktor call out your name, “Shall I tell Father Jayce your confession, or will you do it yourself?”

You coyly look back over your shoulder as you open the churches doors, “You can tell him. I'm curious to see what his reaction will be.”

The last thing you hear before the church doors close is Viktor’s chuckles.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next Sunday mass you go to, you feel as if you have eyes on you the entire few hours you’re there. Every time you look up from your prayer, your singing, your kneeling on the pew, you see Viktor and Father Jayce looking at you.

They’re being subtle. They have to be. If they get caught staring lecherously at a young woman who's over a decade their junior, they'll be the town paraiah.

Everything goes smoothly until the end of mass. When everyone is leaving, Father Jayce lightly calls your name. “Are you able to stay behind? Father Viktor has had a flare-up of pain and I require a second set of hands to clean up the altar and the pews.”

You lightly chew on the inside of your cheek and shuffle on your feet. You think on it for a few seconds before shyly nodding your head. Father Jayce smiles, he has dimples; and his crows feet deepen the slightest bit. He has a small gap between his two front teeth.

Not only is Father Jayce handsome, he's... Cute.

The two of you break apart, going pew to pew, row to row, cleaning up as you go.

You raise the kneelers, place the bibles back on their shelf, pick up little pieces of garbage and bring them to the garbage bin near the front doors of the church.

“Are you done? I need some assistance cleaning up the altar.”

You turn around and hum, slowly walking to the back of the church, going up the few steps to the altar where Father Jayce is waiting for you.

The altar honestly isn't too messy. You just need put away the candles, the candle holders, the wine, the bread, and the lectionary. The massive book the priest reads from during mass.

Before you know it, the altar is cleaned, except for the wine.

“How did you think of mass today?” Father Jayce asks, as he fondles his rosary. You lightly gulp, “It was good. I enjoyed it.”

Father Jayce hums, “I’m glad. You're a very… good person.”

You feel your brows furrow in subconscious confusion, “Thank… you?”

The handsome man purses his lips as he saunters towards you, wrapping his hand around the wine pitcher and dragging it alongside him on top of the altar, “But you're not purely good, are you? No. You sin. Your perfected image is so ingrained into this towns mind that they can't imagine you in any other way.”

Your breath hitches as you lean back onto the altar, trying to put some distance between you two. Father Jayce crowds you against the altar, he's much bigger than you. It’s startling.

It’s arousing.

“You know, Father Viktor told me all about the the little rendezvous you two had. I thought he was joking, maybe he had a dirty dream. Because there’s no way such an innocent, good girl did that within the church. Within a confessional.”

You bite your lip and look down, Father Jayce tilts your head back up with a single finger under your chin. He brings the wine pitcher up to his mouth and takes a large swig.

“But I know he was telling the truth.”

“How?”

“The way you look at us is how the Devil tries to tempt the innocent, and Father Viktor and I are not.”

You gasp when Father Jayce brings the pitcher to your mouth and taps your bottom lip a few times. The glass is cold, and the wine is sweet.

But it’s not as sweet as the way Father Jayce’s eyes darken as you take a gulp of wine.

The pitcher is slammed onto the altar and Father Jayce gives you a passionate kiss. You sigh and lightly open your mouth, and Father Jayce’s tongue caresses your own.

Your arms wrap around him, your hands carding into the hair at the base of his neck. He growls and grips your waist, hiking you up onto the altar.

A gasp escapes your lips, he's so strong. Father Jayce parts your legs at your knees, your dress riding up to an almost obscene level.

His hands drag up your thighs to your hips under your dress, his fingers curling into the sides of your underwear.

“May I?”

“Yes. Please.”

With that, Father Jayce pulls down your underwear, unhooking it from your feet and putting them into his black slacks. He drops down to his knees and you grab his hair in shock.

No way. He's not going to— is he…?

Yes he is, he brings his face close to your core and licks from your entrance to your clit. You jolt, gripping his hair harder as you moan out in pleasure.

He groans and the vibrations make you want to cry. He starts to focus all his attention onto your clit, as he slowly fingers you. The double combo is dangerous. Your pussy is drenched, your face is hot, and your back is curling. Your thighs clutch around Father Jayce’s head and he goes even harder.

Your vision whites out and you cum. Hard. Father Jayce kitten licks you through your orgasm and eventually you shove his head lightly away due to the oversensitivity.

Father Jayce stands up and kisses you, his lips and beard are lightly damp. You feel embarrassed and aroused at that knowledge.

“Take it off.” Father Jayce orders, gesturing to your sage green dress. You gulp, and slowly raise the hem over your head. Your flats have fallen off your feet during your pussy getting ate.

Now you're sitting on the church's altar, only in your basic white cotton bra. Father Jayce is still fully clothed. “All of it.” he demands.

You bring your hands behind you to your back and unhook your bra, your breasts now free for Father Jayce to appreciate.

He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his slacks and lowers it just enough to free his cock. His cock is also massive.

Jesus Christ, your priests are hung.

Father Jayce lines up his cock to your entrance and slowly pushes in, you moan, your voice cracking at the immense feeling of pleasure. He’s stretching you so much, you’re so full. There’s a minuscule pinch but Father Jayce prepped you so well, there’s barely any pain.

Your parents made it sound like you’d die.

Father Jayce groans deep in his chest when he sees a few speckles of blood on his cock, your arousal making his entire dick shimmer in the lowlight of the church.

“Such a dirty girl. Getting fucked in public by a man who’s over a decade older than her, and giving her virginity to him. You’re a goddamn gem.”

You moan at his words, god you’re fucking soaked. His cock keeps hitting your g-spot, and you can’t help but lay back against the altar. Your tits jiggle as Father Jayce fucks you. He slowly starts to go harder and harder. Fucking you to the point where your skin slaps together.

The altar is shaking, you're moaning, and then Father Jayce grips your hair and turns you over. You plop your hands onto the altar as Father Jayce pulls your head back.

If someone were to enter the church now, they'd see Father Jayce fucking the shit out of a woman as her tits bounce and she moans out in pure pleasure.

Your purity ring necklace bounces with each thrust.

“Fuck. Father! You feel so— so fucking good!”

He chuckles, “I’m balls deep in you right now, sweetheart. You can call me Jayce.”

“Jayce! Fuck!”

Without you noticing, Jayce unhooks your purity ring necklace and it bounces down on to the altar, the metal making a small tinkling sound.

“W— what?”

“You don't need that anymore, sweetheart. You’re mine now, and Viktors.”

With that declaration, you shove your hand in between your thighs and viciously rub your clit. One circle, two, and then you're cumming again, and this time a gush of arousal escapes your pussy.

Jayce moans and pounds into you, before going as deep as he can as he cums inside you. You can feel each pulse of his cock as he dumps his cum into you.

You sigh at the feeling, fuck it feels so good.

Jayce sighs and drops his head down onto your shoulder, he sucks a few hickeys into your neck as he pulls out. You feel some of his cum drip down your thighs.

You pant as Jayce fixes himself and then helps you get re-dressed. You two look somewhat presentable when a very familiar accented voice echoes out into the church.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No, V. You're right on time.”

“It was a good show.”

You freeze, “Wait… you could see us?”

Viktor nods, “The personal office has a perfect view.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“So,” Viktor continues, “Are we only ever able to see you within the house of god?”

Jayce chuckles as your face heats up, “No. I'm more than willing to see you two outside of the church.”

With that, Viktor smirks and hands you a small slip of paper with an address written on it, “This is where we live. Hopefully, the next time we see one another, it's within the privacy of our home. That way we can see how loud you can truly get.”

You smile at the two handsome men. They've truly ruined you for anyone else.

Hallelujah praise the lord! This was filthy and I hope y’all enjoy it! Priest Viktor and Jayce would be so hot, I’d start going to church if they were there LMAO

I started writing this when I was certain JayVik x Reader was going to win on my poll (I know cause I voted for other to see which the percentages, I was too impatient to wait 23hrs 💀)

[worrywrite]

Is the born special method a good one? No. I don't think anyone's arguing that.

But let's all be honest. We know why it has become more prominent. It is far more common now for your position in life to be determined by the wealth of your parents than through any hard work of your own. And on top of that, we all know that now. It sucks. It's also just how a lot of people see their lives, particularly in the US. If your parents didn't have a decent amount of money, didn't own their house, when you were born and couldn't keep you in a "good" zip code then the chances of you ever moving up in life are slim to none.

The born special story is the low class fantasy of shaking off your roots and discovering that, yes, actually, your parents or ancestors did have power to grant you but you just couldn't know about it yet. You had money but you had to live in hiding.

And there are ways to do this well. There are instances where you can use the trope to good effect, it's prime Superman storytelling. You take an alien with godlike powers, stick him in a farm in Kansas as a baby and he's going to grow up exposed to "good country values" that push him to actually use his abilities he was born with to do good things (as opposed to if he was raised by a wealthy family from birth to be an "entrepreneur" with an MBA, can you imagine... A closeted superman raised by rich white suburban folks).

I think Percy Jackson is a big part of it now (and the bad wizard books, but those were sort of earlier and we can all agree they were not done well and the born special element was as egregious then as it is now). And I'll be honest I missed the boat on those books a long time ago and never felt the urge to swim after them. They're not particularly atrocious when it comes to doing this right, but you can tell it wasn't exactly the proper intent. Riordan didn't put Percy in a crappy life until he was old enough to come into his full power just so he could be raised with ideals and virtues, he put him there to hide him and "keep him safe" until he didn't have to any more--the superman effect was just sort of a happy accident.

And if you look back to when the trend in literature stared, one of the last non-born-special ya books/series was Hunger Games. And the hunger games books wrapped up right around the end of the recession, which was also right about when everyone realized "crap, no one is really prepared for this, the only people who made it out fine had a lot of money to begin with." Which is why the next big ya series, divergent, was basically hunger games but the protagonist was born with a special power to resist conformity... And then the maze runner books where all of the main cast were born special. And so on. Basically a huge chunk of new series from from about 2011 on.

rudolph the red nosed reindeer

[amourcheol]

the lords who loved me (series masterlist)

g e n r e : smut, fluff, angst, bridgerton! au, regency au! for certain fics -> friends with benefits! au, opposites attract! au, sunshine x grumpy! au, slow burn! au, forbidden love! au, enemies to lovers! au

s u m m a r y : the diamond club of mayfair is the most notorious, sought-after gentlemen's club in london. every member is a figure of great wealth, class or power, but none have such fame as five dear friends, the eligible lords of the ton. each acclaimed lord has their dreams and desires, concerns and anxieties, but all of them have one aspect in common.

every single one of these gentlemen will find their love match—whether they want to or not.

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : this is my first ever series and i’m so so excited to write about bridgerton!! this is something i've been wanting to write since late 2021 :') the storylines are all loosely connected (some more than others) but can still be read separately!! do send an ask/comment if you want to be added to the taglist, and enjoy the journey that's about to come <3

back to masterlist

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

g e n r e : friends with benefits! au, friends to lovers! au, smut, angst, fluff

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor lord joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung who is the real mvp, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mc experiences crazy overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝Because Wonwoo was a wandering soul, and you were the anchor to his lost creativity.❞

g e n r e : writer! au, strangers to lovers! au, opposites attract! au, fluff, angst, smut

s u m m a r y : since his last successful play years ago, lord jeon wonwoo has lost all motivation to write his next masterpiece. hiding himself away in his countryside manor, he expects inspiration to strike. what he does not expect is you, his new spinster neighbour, to storm through his halls, and into his cold, aching heart.

c o n t e n t : writer! wonwoo, landowner! reader, mc is inspired by bathseba everdene from far from the madding crowd, wonwoo has writers block on stereoids, wonwoo is also a class-a loser but it’s okay cause he’s hot, lowkey love triangle with tbz eric, descriptions of real places in england cause historical accuracy once again, this will be Long because i am an advocate of slow burn, there will be angst, mature warnings -> sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, body worship, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝How can one be professional with a partner as scandalous as Lord Kwon Soonyoung?❞

g e n r e : sunshine x grumpy! au, theatre! au, fluff, smut

s u m m a r y : you never believed yourself to be a particularly brilliant actress—that is, until lord kwon soonyoung scouts you for his next theatre production. amongst lessons and overwhelming emotions, you find that acting can be particularly difficult with a carefree scoundrel—especially if you are his next target.

c o n t e n t : theatre actress! reader, entertainer! soonyoung, inspired by the movie the libertine, soonyoung is a certified rake, mc hates (and is horrendously attracted by) it, references to shakespeare and restoration plays, wonwoo being silly, mature warnings -> Sexual Tension, so much Tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, edging, soonyoung is such a tease it's crazy, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝What could go wrong for an unattainable lady to fool around with an untouchable gentleman?❞

g e n r e : forbidden love! au, rich x (kinda) poor! au, smut, fluff, angst

s u m m a r y : you were the diamond of this season. beautiful, accomplished, and of noble birth, your future was tied to the man who would be successful enough to attain you. when your eyes catch the newly labelled lord chan at your debutante ball, you decide to let curiosity take the lead—and enjoy the consequences that ensue.

c o n t e n t : new money! chan, old money! reader, reader is kinda arrogant(?), chan will fix her though, cheol will be very annoying this fic, sneaking around, mature warnings -> making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes through a bridgerton-esque montage, chan is crazy cocky but is also a loser because i believe in chan range, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

❝Keep your lovers close, and your enemies closer. Keep Choi Seungcheol, however, the closest.❞

g e n r e : enemies to lovers! au, exes to lovers! au, angst, smut

s u m m a r y : everyone in the ton was aware of your hatred towards choi seungcheol. when the powerful lord discovers a deep secret, however, he vows to humiliate you for his own pleasure. you decide to indulge him—if only to save yourself. what you failed to consider was that dancing with the devil can only end in ruination.

c o n t e n t : rake! seungcheol, lady! reader, these two hate each other cause too many people are pussies when it comes to e2l, seungcheol is insufferable, so is the mc, slowburn which will want to tear your hair out, painstaking angst which will be rewarded, mature warnings -> making out fuelled by intense hatred, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk galore, reader is a brat, more tba !!

s t a t u s : eligible.

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: A Harry Styles One Shot

CW: None

Tag List: @georgiarose94

A/N: This is just some fun fluffy goodness that popped into my head the other day! I have a part 2 in mind if y’all want it? Enjoy!

Summary: Harry Styles shows up on your dating app and you’re convinced it’s not really him✨

Harry only has one reason why he finally caved and downloaded the bright yellow dating app, he likes the fact he can’t be the one to message anyone he matches with first. It takes some of the pressure off of him because it’s hard to think of an opening line that is catchy and engaging enough to actually make the other person respond, and while he may be a talented songwriter he is absolutely horrible at trying to be witty and flirty through a screen and over texts. So not having to worry about reaching out first allows him to just sit and wait to see if anyone is actually interested enough in him to send him a message and so far, much to his disappointment and only a slight blow to his ego he hasn’t gotten more than a few random hellos.

Even though he hasn’t gotten the kind of response he thought he would since he downloaded the app just a few days ago, he still finds himself checking it a few times a day and that’s exactly what he’s doing now as he gets comfortable on his couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He scrolls through a few profiles and doesn’t swipe right or hit the heart button on any of them until he lands on one that seems interesting. Your profile picture is of you grinning as you stare at a piece of what he thinks is cake that’s on a plate in front of you that has a candle in it, there’s a little caption under it that says “if you can make me smile the way this cake did, you’re a keeper” and he chuckles to himself as he continues further down your profile. The most important thing he likes to look at on people’s profile is what they’re looking for on the app, because Harry knows he’s ready for a relationship and he isn’t trying to have his time wasted nor waste anyone else’s if he knows they aren’t looking for the same thing in the end.

He feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he sees your response to that prompt if the exact same as his, looking for something long term. Harry takes a sip of his wine as he looks through the photos you posted on your profile, enjoying the tiny look at what you do for fun since you have a few photos at concerts and other events such as the classic group photo during a girls night out but the one that sticks with Harry the most is of you sitting on a couch with a glass of wine and a book in your hand that someone took while you weren’t looking or at least that’s how it appears. When he reaches the end of your profile he doesn’t give himself a moment to overthink it he simply swipes right and continues on his scroll through the app trying not to get too anxious as he waits to see if you’ll match with him and find him interesting enough to message.

After a few more minutes of scrolling he lets out a sigh before he takes a rather large sip of wine, just when he’s ready to call it a night and leave the silly little dating app he sees that he has a new message. He quirks an eyebrow as he goes to his messages and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he sees it’s from you, meaning you have to be online now since he just swiped on you not even ten minutes ago and you’ve already sent him a message.

Now what Harry isn’t prepared for is what your message says, having only gotten the different variations of Hello so far as opening lines so when he opens your message the laugh that escapes him is genuine and he feels as if you just sent him a one liner you’d possibly use on him if you saw him at a bar and wanted to start a conversation with him. He reads the message again and shakes his head as he chuckles to himself while also feeling a bit of an inflation to his ego because your opening line is tailored to him, it’s something that you wouldn’t be able to use on just anyone. Because even if they were an obvious One Direction fan it would be very risky because they might not know the lyrics to the song and be extremely confused.

“If the room was burning, would you really not notice?”

He finds himself instantly replying and when he hits send he suddenly starts to get nervous that maybe he should’ve waited a bit to reply so he doesn’t seem too eager and possibly scare you off before he can even really get to know you. But it’s too late now, so he just sips his wine and stares at the small screen in his hand.

“Honestly I don’t think I would. My mind would be too preoccupied by someone and their ability to tell little fibs.”

When he sees a new message appear beneath his he lets out a small sigh of relief because already this is the longest conversation he’s had on this app so far.

“Right well thank goodness you’re fireproof.”

He quickly replies to you and waits with a new feeling of excitement brewing in his tummy to see what you’re going to say next. But he can’t help but wonder how long you can keep this up, he will happily play along because he doesn’t want to be the one to change the subject and possibly ruin the mood.

“Exactly. I’m also very good at finding my way through dark places as well.”

Luckily for him he doesn’t have to wait very long and your response has him laughing and he’s grateful that he lives alone so no one can walk into his living room and ask him what he’s laughing at while cuddled up in the corner of his couch.

“Oh does that mean you’re not scared of the dark? Because if you are that’s okay I won’t let anything get to you and drag you down.”

He is typing out his reply and hitting send before he can even fully lean over and put his empty wine glass down on the table.

“That’s lovely of you to say but no I’m not scared of the dark. Not even a little bit. The only thing I get a little unsettled about is how quickly the night can change.”

As Harry waits to see what you’ll say he can’t stop his mind from wondering if there’s a possibility you’re doing something similar right now, sitting comfortably on your couch or maybe in bed smiling and laughing at your phone like an idiot. Because surely it can’t just be him that’s enjoying how easy the conversation is flowing, regardless of how silly it may be.

You read the latest message from this “Harry” person and laugh at how he goes about avoiding the exact lyrics of the song night changes, you quickly type out a reply so you don’t have to keep him waiting for too long.

“It does change fast doesn’t it? I’ve always thought it was a bit rude how everything you’re dreaming about is just is gone in the morning.”

After hitting send you reach over to your nightstand and grab your glass of wine and take a sip as you go back to visit his profile. You narrow your eyes as you bring the screen a little closer to your face as you scroll down to the few photos he’s chosen, most of which are also on his Instagram so you don’t let the thought that you’re talking to the actual Harry Styles cross your mind. Especially since a lot of the information needed to make a profile on the dating app the two of you are currently messaging on is very accessible, it’s just a simple scroll through Google. The only thing that makes you quirk a brow is one photo he has at the very end of his profile, it’s a photo of him sitting at a table with a smile on his face while holding a glass of wine and it’s one you’ve never seen before but that also doesn’t mean anything because there’s tons of photos and videos of Harry you haven’t seen.

When you saw you matched with him you couldn’t stop yourself from instantly messaging him, because even though you know it’s just someone using Harry’s photos to get attention you figure you might as well have some harmless fun. You know eventually you’ll decide to move on and maybe report his account depending on how weird he gets. You’re brought back to the moment when you see you have a new message, you take another sip of your wine as you read what he wrote.

“It’s very rude but there is something that even the night can’t change. Do you know what that is?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as you read the message and you get an odd feeling this person might be trying to flirt with you because the next line of the song he’s talking about is a rather romantic one, but then again you can’t really be sure. You take this moment to test the waters a bit as you type out your reply and hit send before you can second guess yourself and delete it.

“It’s you and I right? Because nothing can separate us?”

You know you’re going to have to casually change the subject soon but you can’t help but want to see just how long the two of you can keep indirectly quoting One Direction songs in a way that has ended up with the two of you in a rather pointless conversation. You feel your cheeks get warm when you read his reply, of course this Harry impersonator would send you lyrics to Stockholm Syndrome.

“Precisely. It’s safe to say you’ve got me tied down.”

You finish off your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand before figuring out how exactly you want to reply. There’s a few ways you could go about this, but instead of going the obvious flirty route you choose to go for the comedic approach instead because that’s more of who you are anyway.

“I mean I can’t have you trying to escape the city and follow the sun now can I? Because that would just break my heart and I don’t even know where I’d go if that happened.”

You giggle to yourself as you scroll to the top of your messages and reread them, well aware that if anyone were to read them they’d be extremely confused. You also have to admit that this person is very well educated on their One Direction lyrics and you’re a bit impressed. When you get to the bottom you see “Harry” has replied and what he says makes you lean your head back and laugh as you drop your phone into your lap as you try to get yourself under control.

“I’d never try to escape because if your heart is broken and you’re just wondering around that makes me worry people will try to steal you away from me and I can’t have that. Not to mention I also have no clue where’d you go with a broken heart and I’m honestly so shit with directions so I’d be left with no choice but to walk around shouting your name.”

After a few moments you quickly type out a response and double tap his last message letting a red heart appear next to it so he knows you really enjoyed that creative use of lyrics from two songs.

“Walking around shouting my name? Absolutely not. Don’t embarrass me.”

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement at your message, enjoying how you managed to give him an easy way to go along with your subtle change of conversation since he notices a very obvious lack of song lyrics in your reply. And Harry being the romantic that he is finds this a great opportunity to ask something, and your answer will be one he might possibly tuck away in his mind to remember at a later date.

“Not one for big declarations of love then?”

As he waits for your reply Harry takes a moment to process the fact that even though the two of you haven’t even really had a true conversation he already can tell by your sense of humor that he’s going to enjoy getting to know you more, if you let him that is. When he sees your response he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with his hand that’s not holding his phone.

“I’ve never had anyone do a big declaration of love for me before so I’m not sure how I feel about them. What about you? Do you need a Jumbotron proposal during a sporting event or a billboard dedicated to how much I love your hands?”

Harry looks at his free hand and wonders if you’re being serious about loving his hands or if that’s just an example you picked to show him what you would be willing to write on a billboard about him. As he types out his reply his mind begins to think of things that could be considered big declarations of love or feelings that maybe you’d like, because even though he doesn’t know you he figures having some ideas on the back burner can’t hurt and who doesn’t like coming home to an outrageous amount of flowers or a maybe even having the radio play nothing but your favorite songs for a whole day.

“I am open to all types of declarations of love. Big, small, handwritten or painted on a billboard. I’m not picky.”

Now only part of that statement is a lie, Harry truly does enjoy any type of declaration of love that his significant other is willing to give him but he is a tiny bit picky. But that’s something to discuss at a later date, because it doesn’t really have anything to do with what the two of you are discussing now, he’s picky about other things but not how someone is willing to tell him their feelings about him. As Harry is getting up and grabbing his empty wine glass off his coffee table and heading into the kitchen he gets an odd notification at the bottom of the message thread between the two of you.

*accept video chat*

But before he can even hit accept or decline the message is gone and he sees you’ve typed out a quick little explanation.

“Oh god I’m sorry! Finger slipped and hit the video chat button! Sorry!”

He quirks a brow as he scrolls to the top of the messages and sees what looks like a FaceTime icon near the corner. Having not noticed it before he becomes curious and maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just that he’s interested in you and thinks this is a smart way to “meet” for the first time to get a better feeling of if the two of you actually can hold a conversation or not but either way Harry is typing out a quick message and hitting send before entering his kitchen.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know it was an option, I’m fine with a video chat if you are?”

You stare at his message for a solid thirty seconds before you even blink, not knowing why on earth this person would want to video chat with you when you know they aren’t Harry Styles. It’s going to be awkward and embarrassing, for them of course not for you because you already know you haven’t been talking to the tall tattooed international superstar but maybe this is for the best so you can tell whoever it is how impressed with their One Direction song lyric knowledge you are. And maybe, just maybe you’ll still find whoever it is attractive and it won’t be a total bummer of a Friday night. So against your better judgement you send him a simple response before you climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to refill your wine.

“Sure!”

You catch your reflection in the door of your microwave and instantly place your phone on the counter next to your fridge so you can adjust the monstrosity that is your messy bun. Once that’s as good as it’s going to get you look down at your faded band t shirt and decide that it’s good enough for whoever it is that’s about to video chat you, it’s after nine at night on a Friday after all so in your mind them seeing you like this is just preparing them for what they can expect in the future. As you’re reaching for your bottle of wine you see a new notification appear on your screen and you feel nervous as you pick your phone up.

*Accept video chat from Harry Styles*

You hit accept and the screen goes black before suddenly you’re looking at someone’s ceiling and you squint your eyes and bring the phone closer to your face as what appears to be half a forearm comes into view.

“Sorry love it seems I’ve dropped you.” You feel your heart begin to beat so fast you’re afraid it’s going to explode as a British accent comes from the phone, you swear it sounds exactly like Harry’s but you simply shake your head at that idea because there’s no way he’s on the other end of this call.

“Oh wow you sound just like-”

“I sound just like who?” Harry asks as he finally comes into view after he picks the phone up from where he accidentally dropped it on his counter while trying to open his wine bottle one handed. Your eyes go a bit wide as you move your phone away from your face, you feel your cheeks get hot and out of pure panic you place your phone against your wine bottle and put both hands over your face making Harry raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re Harry Styles.” You mumble into your hands but Harry hears you just fine making him chuckle as he pours some wine into his glass. “You weren’t supposed to actually be Harry Styles.” You explain as you spread your fingers allowing you to get a small look at Harry through the gaps, it’s almost unfair how much better he looks while taking up your phone screen than he does in his photos.

“Who was I supposed to be?” He questions as he grabs his phone and his wine glass and heads back into his living room.

“Some weirdo just acting like you to get attention on a dating app.” Harry doesn’t quite like that answer, he doesn’t like the idea of someone pretending to be him just to get attention and possibly hurt people in the process.

“Do people really do that? Pretend to be me on things like this?” You just shrug as you slowly lower your hands from your face and Harry is glad he’s already sitting down because even with your pink cheeks and distraught look in your still slightly wide eyes he can’t get over how pretty you are.

“I’m not sure? You’re actually the first Harry Styles I’ve ever come across but I mean I just-I didn’t think it was really you.” You admit with a laugh as you reach and grab your phone so you can get to your wine bottle, deciding you now more than ever need to refill your glass.

“Are you disappointed it’s really me and not some random weirdo?” He watches you raise an eyebrow and make a humming noise as if you really have to think about it before answering him.

“Honestly I’m relieved it’s actually you because if it wasn’t then I would’ve had to tell a random person how impressed I was with their One Direction knowledge.” You answer after you fill your glass up with wine, Harry chuckles as you make a face of disgust at the mention of telling someone you were impressed with them. “But since it’s you-”

“Oh are you saying you’re not impressed with my One Direction knowledge?” He says in mock offense as he watches you walk through what he can only assume is your kitchen based on the oven he sees in the background.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You answer without any hesitation and Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin because the look you give him is one that tells him he should’ve known that was going to be your answer.

“Well I’m quite impressed with your knowledge and your opening message was-”

“Oh god.” You say with a groan as you head into the living room, your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you take a seat on your couch making Harry give you a soft smile to try to help ease your clear embarrassment of what you sent him because he thought it was great.

“Don’t feel embarrassed love.” He quietly clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine after the petname accidentally slips out of his mouth. “I thought it was brilliant that’s why I responded and kept it going.” He explains making you smile and it’s not until this very moment do the two of you really sit and look each other in the eyes and Harry feels his own cheeks get a little warm as you stare at him through the phone.

“You’re really pretty.” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair as you blink a few times and realize what you just said out loud.

“You’re really pretty as well.” He says with only a small hint of nervousness evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to come across overly flirty but he also doesn’t see the harm in telling you the truth, you are very pretty.

“Thank you.” You smile and get comfortable on your couch. “I guess it’s good to get all this embarrassing and awkwardness out of the way now right?” Harry just nods and smiles at your choice of words, giving him some hope that you’ll want to maybe do this again or possibly meet up in person if you feel comfortable enough.

“Exactly.” Is all he says with a grin making you return his smile as you sink into your couch and toss a blanket over your legs to get comfortable because something tells you that you’re about to be on the phone with Harry for a while and you don’t mind. You silently thank your lucky stars that you decided to message him when you saw he matched with you because you can’t imagine the level of regret you’d feel if you somehow found out you fumbled the opportunity to talk and possibly get to know Harry just because you thought it was a fake profile.

[yelenasdiary]

Hi 👋🏾 I just sent a request in not too long ago but I forgot to specify that it's a Fem!Reader it was this one :

something where everyone thinks R is treating wanda poorly bc they're polar opposites (R is kinda a brick wall + wanda isn't all perky but she's just nice and more open) and wanda hasn't come around since they've been together but in reality wanda is just so happy that she's forgotten about everyone ?

Consumed By You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader, Avengers x Fem! Reader

Summary: Wanda’s family think you don’t treat Wanda right…

Angst with Happy ending. 

Warnings: Hints of an abusive relationship? | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this. I personally don’t like how somebody can just drop or ‘forget’ about their friends/family just because they’re dating somebody so this is a little angst and Wanda kinda gets a reality check. I hope you enjoy! 

It had been months since the compound was filled with the warm smell of freshly baked muffins that Wanda would often bake for the team. At first, it was understandable. She found somebody she really liked and wanted to spend more time with them. But as days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, Wanda’s family couldn’t let the thought that her absence was against her will. 

Natasha was the one to bring the issue to Wanda’s attention, sending her a flurry of frantic texts, trying not to scare the woman away. 

“They miss me” Wanda said, her voice soft as she looked up at her phone. Sitting on the sofa beside you, her head resting against your shoulder as you were reading a new book you had recently picked up. 

“You should go see them” you replied. Wanda sighed, remembering the last time she saw them. “I don’t know, I don’t think I want to hear about how the world is in danger yet again”

You finished reading the paragraph you were on before closing your book and gently placing a hand on her knee, “I think you should see them, baby” you said softly.

“I guess I could pop in for an hour tomorrow” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

You could hear the doubt in her voice, “how about I come with you” you suggested, “I mean, if you want” you added.

Wanda’s face lit up as she lifted her head to look at you, “Really? You want to come?”

“Yeah” you smiled softly, meeting her gaze, “this if your family” 

Wanda smiled before placing a soft kiss on your lips and texting Nat the news. 

The next day, you and Wanda arrived at the compound around midday. Her family greeted her with smiles and hugs, happy to finally see her after so long. You greeted the Avengers politely, even though you noticed the surprised looks from Steve and the deep glaring gaze from Natasha, you tried to ignore it for Wanda’s sake but deep down, you didn’t feel very welcomed. 

Later, after conversations of catching up over pizza and Tony’s questionable cocktails, you watched Wanda from afar as she reconnected with those she called family. “So, Wanda tells me you’re quite the artist” Pepper smiled, taking a seat beside you, taking your attention away from Wanda. 

You chuckled lightly, “well, I wouldn’t say that. I like to make things sometimes” you turned to her. 

What you didn’t see was Wanda being whisked away by Nat, Clint and Steve. While you and Pepper spoke about your crafts and love for art, Wanda was confused by the three’s confusing words.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked sternly with a hint of worry in her voice. Wanda frowned with confusion, “yes, I’m fine” 

“Are you sure? Because you don’t have to leave with her today. We’ll keep you safe” Steve inserted, making Wanda even more confused as her eyes shifted to him. “What are you guys talking about? I’m fine?” She replied. 

“Wands, this is the first time in months we’ve seen you. You don’t come around anymore���.we barely hear from you and when we do, its short and sweet” Natasha explained. 

“We’re just worried that Y/n is…well, keeping you from seeing others” Clint added. 

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous assumptions. “Y/n isn’t keeping me from seeing anybody, you can’t be serious right now” 

“We’re serious Wanda” Natasha replied, again in a stern tone. Her tone making Wanda look between the three Avengers, seeing they weren’t in the slightest joking. “Guys” she started, “Y/n is nothing but loving and supportive of me” she continues. 

“We see how she treats you and little she seems to engage. It feels a little…dismissive” Steve confessed.

Wanda’s heart clenched. “She isn’t dismissive” she defended, “it’s just she’s a little quieter than others. She’s not expressive like everybody else, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care”

“Maybe not to you…but from the outside” Clint trailed off. 

“You’ve barely seen her! You don’t know her” Wanda argued. 

Natasha stepped forward, not wanting the argument to get too heated. “We’re just worried. You seem distant and like you’ve completely forgotten about us. You met her and suddenly you were gone. I think you can see where we are coming from” 

Wanda sighed heavily, seeing how her relationship looked to her family. “I promise you, it’s not like what you’re thinking. I just, I’ve just been so happy that I didn’t want to come here and have that dawning feeling that it could be taken away from me” she started. “I didn’t mean for this to hurt you all” she added. 

“You deserve to be happy, Wanda. You deserve the world” Steve said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but the world isn’t Y/n” he added. 

“You can’t just cut everybody out, even if you are happy” Clint said, “we’re your family. We’re here for you, always. Even if you’re in a relationship. We want to know her, we want to be a part of your life too” he went on.

A wave of guilt washed over Wanda, she’d been so consumed in you and her feelings for you that she didn’t realize that her excuses for neglecting to enjoy life outside of her relationship was turning those closest to her. “I understand” she said, her voice sincere. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been fair, and I don’t want you all to keep this image that Y/n is a bad partner because she is so far from that. I want you guy to see how wonderful she is” 

Nat smiled softly at her friend, “then allow us that. We want to know how great she is but she can’t do that if you close us out” 

Wanda nodded softly, “I know….how about we start with a weekly dinner?” She offered. The three standing before her smiled, “sounds like a great start” Steve said. 

The talk wasn’t easy, and it left Wanda feeling a bit exposed, but she knew deep down they were right. She had a life beyond you, but she was so scared that life would take you from her. As she walked out with Nat, Clint & Steve behind her, she saw you laughing with Pepper. The image in front of her made her smile as she wandered over to you. 

“What did I miss?” Wanda asked softly, taking a seat beside you. 

“Y/n was just telling me a story about the two you” Pepper smiled softly, 

“Yeah, remember that time you made me try some of those ridiculous TikTok filters?” You looked to your partner, giving her a soft smile. Wanda nodded, the memory flashing through her mind, “wait until I show the others the screenshots” she chuckles. 

“Don’t you dare!” Your eyes widen. Something about her presence felt different but you didn’t want to question it. Wanda teased, pulling out her phone as she broke into a laughter you haven’t heard in a very long time. 

“Oh, come on baby, the world show see these!” She laughed. “Please, it’s the last thing the world needs!” You laughed along with her.

Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow | @jsonebraincell | @boredandneedfanfics | @red1culous | @jooseboxxe | @starrycherie | @torihobby1226 | @filmedbyharkness | 

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[sunnie-angel]

this fic is, above all things, tender. the relationship between reader and jason is so loving, a sense of warm intimacy underlying every action and unspoken thought. honestly i could not get enough of it! i have a feeling this is going to be a regular re-read for me.

“You actually used the door.” You mumble sarcastically, recognizing the hulking frame as your boyfriend.

i will freely admit i'm a sucker for banter and i love how this sets up a long running joke -- your honour they know each other and well!

Muscle memory. That’s where you belong, in his arms, by his side.

unconscious, familiar, practiced. this is such a perfect example of how a writer says many things with only a few words, i'm taking notes.

All that influence, all the money and power that comes with it, and he still chooses to come home to you. In your mediocre flat, with spotty internet, expensive heating, and a dishwasher that never seems to stay not broken, no matter how many times he fixes it.

this is such a clever inversion! a lot of characterizations of jason focus on how he's the one astonished by being chosen (and i love those fics dearly) and this is such a fun way to use fandom tropes in new ways. reader's the one feeling like she got lucky, reader's the one that's got that passing insecurity

“No prep? You sure, sweetheart?” His voice is tired, strained, but there’s an unmistakable tenderness in how he addresses you. You know he doesn’t have the energy to get you warmed up. He barely has the energy to be on top.

i do not have the words to express how much i love what this sets up. there's a usual order to things (a routine!) and she's asking him to change it up. he's asking (swoon!) if she's sure, checking in with her. open communication is sexy. even though he is tired (and she notices this!) he is still loving and he's still checking.

You’re careful not to use your nails, having promised yourself long ago that you would never be the cause of one of his scars.

this!!!! just because he would wear the marks you give him still doesn't change your mind on this. ugh, the tenderness and care that goes into keeping that promise even when it would be so easy to get swept up in the moment 🥺

It’s the love that finds it endearing when his gentle snoring fills your ear less than a minute later, still one with the most intimate parts of you.

i love how this is the ending. it's not all picture perfect romantic moments, there's the messy awkwardness of life and that makes this fic feel all the more real and grounded.

unconditional (18+, red hood jason todd x fem reader) wc 1.5k

⭓ this post contains explicit sexual content and is not suitable for minors. reader is afab and described as shorter than jason. established relationship. if you sense a theme in my writing, what can i say. i'm a sucker for sleepy sex. dedicated to @janybabyy who is always down to proofread my work at a moments notice.

You awaken with a start, the familiar creek of your front door closing, pulling you from your uncomfortable half-slumber.

The hall light flickers on, casting a tall, dark shadow over your perch on the oversized recliner in your shared living room.

“You actually used the door.” You mumble sarcastically, recognizing the hulking frame as your boyfriend.

Your greeting is reciprocated by a raspy exhale, followed by a heavy footstep, then another. “You should be in bed.”

He's already rid himself of his helmet. You admire the outline of his shaggy hair as he stalks closer, your heart beating stronger when he pauses several feet in front of you.

“Says who?” You ask, a coy grin itching at the corner of your mouth.

“Me.”

Exhaustion is apparent in his voice. You can practically feel it radiating off his body. Jason reaches a heavy arm to massage away an ache in the back of his neck as you stand up and approach.

He’s leaning into your touch before your palm even reaches his cheek. Another long exhale escapes him, your touch akin to a cool drink of water after a long run in the heat.

”Can’t sleep without you here.”

“Huh. Yeah right,” he presses his lips to the skin of your wrist briefly before continuing, “I know I wake you up. Don’t lie.”

His arm snakes around your waist, the most natural movement in the world to him. Muscle memory. That’s where you belong, in his arms, by his side. Even so, you know he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that some people are worth losing sleep over. That his love is worth the occasional sleepless night, whether it’s staying awake from worry, or comforting him through his ever-present night terrors.

“Jason…” You bring your other hand to cup his face gingerly, feeling a pang of guilt at the dark circles under his eyes.

He works so hard.

Before you realize it’s happening, you’re guiding him down into a slow kiss. His lips, warm and familiar, are tinged with the taste of salt and blood. You allow yourself to indulge for a beat before shying away, wanting to check him for injuries. But as you rescind, needy lips follow, an almost desperate groan rumbling in his throat.

“Don’t.” He mumbles, lips flush against your own. Rough hands grip you closer at the small of your back. “Please, sweetheart. Need you. Missed you.”

You swoon, allowing him to consume your senses. Eyes closed, lips entangled once more, Jason Todd never needs to ask more than once for your affection. Ever since the day you confessed your love for each other, you give it to him, freely and willingly. You are his safe space, his haven. The one person he’s finally let himself be vulnerable with, where there’s no need for his reticence.

And in return? You have, in him, a best friend. Your protector, your lover, the only man who can make living in this hellhole of a city worth it. There are very few problems in your life that he cannot solve. Nevermind that most of those problems are caused by dating him in the first place. Dating a vigilante has its dangers, but Red Hood seems to be at the top of the ‘food chain’ when it comes to Gotham’s criminal underworld.

All that influence, all the money and power that comes with it, and he still chooses to come home to you. In your mediocre flat, with spotty internet, expensive heating, and a dishwasher that never seems to stay not broken, no matter how many times he fixes it.

Several articles of clothing, discarded in a tired haze of affection, lead a telling trail to the bedroom. Jason lifts you effortlessly, laying you down on the bed, keeping himself close so he’s on top of you. Cognizant of his size, he remains propped on his forearms, caging you in but graciously allowing you to breathe.

“Need you too.” You whisper up at him, basking in his attention. You bite your lip, and reach down for the waistband of his boxers, the only remaining article of clothing keeping him modest.

“M’gross.” He mutters, voice tinged in hesitation. “It’s been a long night.”

But he doesn’t stop your fingers from tugging on the elastic. He helps you, kicking them off, and settling his frame over yours again, allowing his lips to rest against your forehead.

“Don’t care.”

You turn your head, allowing your breath to fan over the scarred skin of his neck.

“I couldn’t be more proud of you, Jay. Besides…” You nudge your nose against him, inhaling deeply, savoring his musk, eyes rolling back at the rush of feel-good hormones that flood your brain from the familiarity.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “Yeah? Besides what, hm?” Peering down at you with lustful eyes, his deep tone sends a tingle down your spine. Nerves on fire from the closeness, you reach for him, slow yet confident, not disappointed when your fingers wrap around his length to guide him to the space reserved for him and him alone.

He knows what.

“No prep? You sure, sweetheart?” His voice is tired, strained, but there’s an unmistakable tenderness in how he addresses you. You know he doesn’t have the energy to get you warmed up. He barely has the energy to be on top.

“I can handle you, handsome. Just take it easy on me.”

With no willpower to contest your assurance, Jason's heavy eyelids flutter shut as he slowly lowers himself flush on top of you. Chest to chest, skin to skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushes his aching cockhead inside the familiar warmth of your body. Your velvet walls weep from his intrusion, the sting in your inner muscles one you’ll never quite get used to. It’s a bittersweet pain that you've come to associate with this behemoth of a man you share your home with.

Jason takes his time. His movements are slow, languid, letting you grow accustomed to him an inch at a time. He keeps close, exhaling little praises into your ear every time a pained whimper escapes your throat.

“Good girl, shhh, nice and slow.”

“Been thinking about you all night.”

“That's it, relax for me, beautiful.”

His unhurried thrusts, tender and deliberate, are slow enough that the cool air of the bedroom has enough time to cool your slick along his shaft before he pushes his progress back in. Your strained panting fills his ear, the way you cling to him urges him to continue on despite the stretch you feel. You don’t want him to think he’s too much.

He’s never too much for you.

Never.

“Jason… Please.”

You clench around him when he pushes deeper, your body finally catching up and leaking your desire around his girth that’s splitting you open.

“Fuck.”

The muscles in Jason’s back tense and release. He pauses his hips, biting into the pillow behind your head, adjusting one arm to hold a bit more of his weight.

Desperate for more of him, you shift your hips up and buck him deeper inside you in short thrusts, digging your fingertips into his back. You’re careful not to use your nails, having promised yourself long ago that you would never be the cause of one of his scars.

But deep down you know, this man would wear a scar from you proudly. He’s proved on more than one occasion that he would die for you.

Just because he would take it, doesn’t mean he deserves it. Which is why you use your self control to restrain yourself while you cling to him gently, crying out in pleasure when he finally starts moving again to match your rhythm, heavy breathing shaking his whole body.

The friction from the increase in pace has you flexing your feet and writhing, nodding your head, stuttering out his name.

“I love when you’re like this…” He admits. “Fuck, you feel so, ugmmmph!” Jason loses his breath, his orgasm hitting him unexpectedly, like an ocean current that sweeps you away so quick, you don’t know which way is up. All he can think about, all he can perceive while the pleasure spasms down his legs is you.

“Y-yes!” You stuffer, helping him bottom out deep inside you, his tip kissing the entrance to your womb, decorating it with his essence while his climax peaks.

Taking advantage of his euphoria, you wrap your legs around his strong abdomen, and hold him closely, showering his neck in fervent kisses.

The noises he makes in response to your affection sound guttural, like you’re fulfilling a primal need of his that he’s been deprived of for too long. A need all humans have. Something Jason Todd, specifically, was lacking most of his life, until he met you.

Enthusiastic, genuine, tender affection. Love that’s unconditional.

The type of love that doesn’t care if he’s dirty and scarred. The kind of love that understands not every instance of intimacy will be an epic performance. It’s the love that finds it endearing when his gentle snoring fills your ear less than a minute later, still one with the most intimate parts of you.

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[zaahvi]

slowly starting to work on my own evanuris designs, first up are dirthamen and falon'din! (i did the busts a month ago now and hadn't decided on the outfits yet so that's why the colours don't match lmao)

some more design notes under the cut :)

in my headcanon, dirthamen was their original spirit (of guidance) and split while making his body because his soul was conflicted about whether he wanted to, or remain as a spirit. when he split, "dirthamen" was content with his new form, while the other half - falon'din - was not, and was twisted into despair. specifically, i imagine it as the sort of despair where you try to cling onto anything to try to make yourself happy, but to no avail.

i thought it'd be neat for them to have a mark symbolising their spirit shattering, like a birthmark. then making it look like their (eventual) vallaslin design made a lot of sense.

i had an idea for dirthamen to have one eye a long time ago, because he has a LOT of similarities to our odinn - god of knowledge and wisdom, often depicted as a hooded figure, and has two ravens (interestingly, while fear and deceit sound like demon names, huginn ("thought") and muninn (anything from: memory, will, remembrance, intention) sound like spirit names). and while elgar'nan holds odinn's title of all-father, he's more like tyr imo.

dirthy's outfit was loosely based off the robed evanuris in the black codex concept art where they're doing the ritual at the blight box lol. i saw that person and was like yeah that's my special god with his dark robes and his little dagger. ofc i had to give him more style though, and dropped in some colour (as falon'din has canonically claimed the colour black) i decided on green because of his eye colour, and turquoise because sometimes when light hits ravens' feathers they kinda look blue. his mosaic has him covering his mouth, so i covered his mouth here too. also, i know his symbol has a little mohawk thing going on in the ingame statues, i couldn't draw it at that angle guys i'm sorry, shapes are hard.

since falon'din mirrors dirthamen in appearance, he got the single eye too. his colours are also more muted because of the whole despair thing. i also found it really interesting that his symbol is the sun, i 100% thought that was sylaise, but it makes sense as sometimes the setting sun is seen as a symbol of death. also the crook he has on his mosaic was really interesting to me and i included it after i read an 18 page paper on them while researching. it's a shepherd's tool - but can also be seen as a symbol of power/status, and there's quite a few of our irl gods depicted holding one. it's honestly really fascinating. that little magic spark doesn't mean anything though it's just for flair :)

i put fally in an ancient elven armour with minimal design changes as he doesn't strike me as sentimental and is rather more like someone who wants to show off and be the cuntiest person in the room at all times. although black is his colour, again i muted it a little, same with the gold. i may edit his design a little in the future to include his owls but for now i'm just kinda trying to figure out how they'd fit in

[jmflowers]

Swarla Kisses Rated [x]

1. "Don't get dressed." (22nd November 2024)

The loud noise that occurred at the moment this kiss aired was the sound of an entire population's proverbial panties dropping. Has there ever been a hotter line spoken? This is the power-necking the soap community taught us about. Swarla started off SO strong it's frankly terrifying. 14/10 Carla knew what she wanted.

2. "Have you?" (29th November 2024)

When the most confident dyke on the cobbles asks you if you've changed your mind about your feelings for her, you are required by law to stubbornly keep your hand on your hip. Even if she pushes your hair back from your face as delicately as humanly possible??? If Lisa Swain ever looked at me like that I would burst into flames. 11/10

3. "Is that better?" (16th December 2024)

We reached the domesticity era of their love in 0.2 seconds flat and I for one am not upset about it. The way Carla nuzzles in? The tilt of Lisa's head? The repetition? I was not expecting more kisses so soon in their story. The only way this could've gotten better is if they'd eaten each other's faces after this had been a clearer angle. 7/10 Carla Connor saying, “I want you.” plays on loop in my head at all times.

4. "Mmm... truffley." (20th December 2024)

The prolonged eye contact???? The dazed look on Lisa's face immediately after?? The fucking giggles???? The sheer power Carla Connor has and wields for good (ie. my own entertainment). Coronation Street said y'all deserve this. 10/10 Carla can hand feed me any day of the week.

5. "See you later." (20th December 2024)

Have you ever seen anyone look so peaceful about a decision before? Carla Connor said, "Today's the day I kiss my girlfriend in the street." I know y'all were waiting for that Live Sally Reaction and it did not disappoint. I hope they kiss each other goodbye constantly forever. 6/10 The way she analyzed Lisa's entire face before leaning forward made me scream both internally and externally.

6. New Year's Countdown (31st December 2024)

If you thought I wouldn't lose my mind over the image of them off in a corner of the pub in their own little world, you were wrong. I need to know if this was a scripting choice, an acting choice, or an editing choice for reasons. I'm never going to get sick of the way Lisa pulls Carla closer by the shoulders (almost) every time they kiss. Lisa closing her eyes like that makes my heart stop beating. 8/10

7. "Ooh, your lip!" (31st December 2024)

You ever just get aggressively snogged by a woman who's falling in love with you (while your lip is busted open from fighting bad guys)? Superheroes really don't get days off but they do get the girl. I miss the power-necking (literally a month ago?!?), but this was still so cute. 9/10 for the sheer fact that Carla needed a New Year's like this considering she dies like 12 hours later.

8. "Won't take that long." (31st December 2024)

Carla Connor isn't the only one who nearly fainted shortly after this kiss. Lisa said let me flutter my drunk eyelashes at you. The way Carla opened her mouth?? The breathy, "You want to go to bed?" from Lisa??? The fucking forehead lean???? I am too goddamn gay for this to be on my screen. How did we get a month into this relationship and already reach 8 kiss scenes? 10/10 thanks Coronation Street for the gay rights.

9. "Please don't leave me here." (1st January 2025)

The fact that Lisa could walk away from Carla in this moment is frankly mind-blowing; her face is the same colour as Betsy's shirt. Lisa, woman, OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES. Someone said Carla looks like she died 3 hours ago and they're not wrong. 3/10 because I'm a sucker for the domestic nature of this but also I want to punch everyone in the face for not protecting our sick baby. Gold star for the Corrie makeup department and their highlighter collection.

10. "Are we okay?" (8th January 2025)

Lisa Swain's affectionate eye roll immediately after Bobby interrupted them is like 1/1000th of how we all really felt. She lingered on this kiss for so long. The hand coming up to cup Carla's head? The forehead lean again? Carla's little smile when she realized what was about to happen? Give these ladies a room that isn't in hospital or full of their children. 9/10 we're watching f/f hurt/comfort fanfiction live on ITV.

11. Comforting Hand (9th January 2025)

We're deep in the trenches of this hurt/comfort storyline now, kids. I hope Lisa plans on sitting vigil at Carla's bedside for the rest of their damn lives (yes I'm wearing my clown makeup while I watch this soap). 4/10 because my self-deprecating baby pulled away from the love and support she deserves.

12. Good Luck (13th January 2025)

As far as kisses go, this barely passes the test, but THEY ARE FAMILY. Carla, proper bricking it. Betsy, also bricking it. Good thing Lisa Swain swooped in to wish her wife girlfriend good luck with the most vanilla cheek peck known to man. Someone get them a room and a dialysis machine whirring to drown out all their kids, stat! 5/10 cause I respect the domesticity.

[girliism]

before patrick there was you. the first person art ever considered a best friend. meeting in the first grade, you being the only kid in your class who cared enough to befriend the new kid.

“what’s your name?” younger you sat next to him.

art surveyed you. with your wild untamed hair, five different band-aids coving your body, and mix match crocs. “art.”

“cool.” you gave him a wide grin.

-

you practically glued yourself to art. where he was you were.

he hated it in the beginning. he thought you were weird and he didn’t wanna brand himself as “the guy with the girl best friend.” but he couldn’t escape you.

it was an odd duo the two of you made but somehow it worked. no matter what it was you guys trusted each other blindly. so when you showed up to his house in the middle of the night begging him to grab his bike and meet you at the corner he couldn’t not do just that.

“where are we going?” art said, out of breath from running from his house to the stop sign with his bike where you were waiting for him. “i can’t be out so late, you know i have church in the morning.”

you rolled your eyes. “can you not be such a loser for like one second little mouse. we won’t even be gone long.”

art blushed at the mention of that nickname. “i’m not a mouse.” he murmured.

the two of you rode through the dark empty streets, the wind was blowing in your faces and your legs burning from how fast you were going.

art slowed down parking in front of the entrance to a hiking trail. “what, uh- what are we doing here?” you turned to look behind you. “follow me and find out.” you had that all too familiar mischievous smile on your face.

you guys walked the trail with your bikes in hand. you led art off the official walkway and into a more secluded place. before art could say anything he was met with the sight a huge lake, the light from the moon reflecting off of it and lighting up the wooded area.

“i found this like two days ago. been dying to show you.” you told him, stripping your clothes to reveal the one piece you had on before jumping in water.

art watched you swim. your body going under for a period of time then resurfacing. you let out giggles every now and then, kicking your feet and twisting yourself around in the water. “get in little mouse.” you splashed water on him snapping him out the trance you put him in.

“wish you would’ve told me we were going swimming.” art pulled off his pajamas leaving him in only boxers. he wade into the water, shivering slightly at the cold temperature. “was supposed to be a surprise.” you spoke softly.

you and art played around in the water for what felt like hours before settling down to float on your backs, your feet floating by his head and vice versa. your guys hands griped each other’s forearms so neither of you drifted away.

everything around you two felt still. like you guys were the only two people in the world. “i’m so glad we’re starting middle school together.” you thought out loud breaking the peaceful silence. “yeah… me too.” art said distantly. he hadn’t told you yet.

after a while of floating there you eventually got tired of the pruning feeling on your hands and feet so the the two of you got out.

art nervously eyed you putting your clothes back on. he had to tell you now before you heard it from his mother and felt even more betrayed.

“hey, i have to tell you something.” art chewed on the inside of his mouth. “you know that tennis academy i told you about.” you nodded looking up at him from typing your shoes. “well, my mom sighed me up and they accepted me so i’ll be starting school there next year not here with you.”

you didn’t react right away. you gave yourself a second to take in what he said. “your leaving me?” art shook his head. “no, i mean not really. we’ll have summer and winter break. plus weekly calls home. we can chat online as well.” you let out a loud annoyed groan. “what about the days in between that. the days where i’ll be here alone.” art gaped at you not knowing what to say.

“i-i’m sorry.” he squeaked.

one thing you hated about art was that he had a tendency to apologize for things that he didn’t need to. deep down you knew you had no right to be mad at him, but you were hurt and that hurt translated into anger.

“whatever.”

-

the bike ride back to art’s house was silent and cold, you shivered as the air hit your still wet bodies.

you guys parked in front of the dondalson house and art shifted on his feet debating whether to speak or not. “so…. i’ll call you tomorrow?” you grunted out a response before riding off.

even though you were upset with art you still spent the rest of the almost ending summer with him. trying to use all the rest of the time you had left with him.

-

it was the last week of summer and you were helping art pack his stuff into the. “sorry your parents won’t let you fly florida with us.” art threw one of his bags into the trunk. you shrugged. “it’s fine, it’ll give me time to missed you.” you picked at a lose thread on you shorts awkwardly before pulling out a brown wooden box. “i made this for you, you know since i may never see you again.” you said. art rolled his eyes at your dramatics but took the box from your hands.

it was one of those boxes you’d find at an antique store that’s been around for years.

art unlocked the little latch and looked inside. it was filled with memorabilia from through out your guys friendship. “you do know i’m not dying right?” art joked. “mmm, you never know.” art shook his head before throwing his arms around you pulling you in for a hug. “thanks.” you tightened your arms around his body, and buried your face in his neck. “no problem, little mouse.”

“alright you two, time to go” art’s moms voice pulled you guys apart. “you all ready artie?” art gave you one last longing look before turning to his mother. “yeah.”

“don’t forget to message me when your settled in.” you yelled to art who was hanging out the window waving at you. “don’t forget to answer!” he yelled back.

art watched you through the back window. your figure getting smaller and smaller. he didn’t turn around in his seat until they turned the corner and even then he looked back every once in a while.

you stood there for like twenty whole minutes hoping that mr and mrs.dondalson would realize they couldn’t bare sending art so far away and turn back around, but they never did. so you went home.

-

[spiderb00]

ever since i sent that ask a couple weeks ago about sophia being a great kisser i haven’t stopped thinking abt it.. pls can we get something similar like a first kiss between sophia and yn (famout or not) 🙏

Hi anon! I understand you, I think we all think a lot about Sophia.

Well, I decided to do this like in the Fam Out universe, 'cause I think I'll spend a while without writing new things for them both (And also bc I love them both in the Dream Academy timeline), so I'm here dropping some crumbs to try to make up for the missing time.

Sophia and Yn kissed on the second date, they were both so nervous it was a bit messy.

Yn and Sophia spent the whole night trying to find a good time to get closer and finally do what they wanted so much.

But it was only when Yn left Sophia at home that the two relaxed and finally created the perfect mood.

Yn had taken Sophia for a picnic, they watched the sunset, laughing all afternoon until the sun finally disappeared and gave way to the moon. When Yn parked the car just before where the Dream Academy girls' dorm room was, they exchanged glances, Yn's desire consumed her inside, while Sophia didn't know what to do to stop the feeling that was inside her.

"I had fun tonight." Sophia was the first to speak, the Filipina's eyes wandering between Yn's eyes and lips.

"Me too. Everywhere is fun when I'm with you." Yn spoke tilting her head back on the bench, noticing the look Sophia was giving her.

"Don't look at me like that." Yn spoke, cutting the silence that had settled in the car.

"Why?" Sophia asked, getting closer to Yn.

Their eyes were full of desire, they both longed for that moment, the moment when their lips would touch and they would feel love flow from within them.

"Because it reminds me how much I want to kiss you." Yn said, lifting her head slightly from the back of the seat.

Seeing Yn's head tilted slightly to the right side, Sophia approached, getting close almost as if asking permission, making Yn finally close the space between the girls' mouths.

Tilting her head to the left, Sophia deepened the kiss, the two feeling a cloud of peace around them, the love grated in their chests seemed about to explode, showing the amount of beautiful feelings stored inside. If that were a cartoon, flowers and hearts would be scattered all over the car, filling the air and making everything colorful and full of life, because that was how the two girls felt.

Even with the shortness of breath beginning to be present in the kiss, the two girls wanted to stay together, giving each other kisses on each other's lips as they tried to catch their breath. As she walked away, Sophia was panting and her nose was red, she looked beautiful and Yn could tell that she had just come out of a freezer if she didn't know why the Filipino girl was so red.

Yn on the other hand, looked like a mess. The girl's hair was slightly messed up by Sophia's hands, and her lips were totally stained with Sophia's lip gloss.

Laughing a little at the visual mess that Yn was, Sophia gave the girl one more peck before sitting properly in the car seat.

"What's wrong?" Yn asked.

"Nothing, it's just that you look very disturbed." Sophia said, a passionate smile on her face. Anyone who saw them inside the car could see the love exuding from inside the vehicle.

"Don't blame me, I just kissed the most beautiful woman in the world." Yn said, making Sophia laugh and pat her.

"Are you going to call me tomorrow?" Sophia asked, her lower lip between her teeth as she waited for Yn's answer.

"Anything you want, Miss Laforteza." Yn said, making Sophia roll her eyes and open the car door.

"It's better to be." Sophia said, getting out of the car taking one last look at the street, before putting her head in again, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and giving you one more kiss on your lips, before finally heading towards the Dream Academy building.

"I'm going to marry her." You said, leaning back on the bench as you waited for the Filipina to enter the dormitory safe and sound.

[squishyo-o]

.+*𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂, 𝓱𝓾𝓱?*+. ❤️‍🔥

• IDOL!Seonghwa x FEM!Reader

• CW!: Needy/Desperate reader (in the beginning), Mentions of Nudes (?? Idk. Again, only the beginning) Seonghwa being thirty for that 🐱, body worshiping done by seonghwa and his tongue, Somnophilia, overstimulation, Seonghwa in a black tank top (yes this needs its own warning), pet names (angel, pretty, baby, good/pretty girl, probably more that I put in this thing), smut smut smut with a small little plot, I’m probably forgetting stuff

This was a recommendation by @bbdeongi (sorry if you don’t appreciate tags 😓 I didn’t know how to notify you I made this LMAO) after I made that one post a while ago! I hope you enjoy it <3 (This is basically the prompt: post prompt)

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Why did he have to be gone for so long..

So.. agonizingly long…

You and your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa, have been together for roughly a year and a half now. He unfortunately had been super busy since the day of the comeback announcement and you guys hadn’t had been able to spend too much time together. Granted, you’d also get busy at times, but usually the two of you would find a day, or at least a period of time that you guys would be free to go out with each other or relax at home and cuddle together. Even then, sex wasn’t a question with the two of you. Most of the time he’s pretty soft but the days where the group stressed him out, you’ll be in for a lovely ride.

This time you were pent up at home

Since the day of the comeback announcement, he had been busy with recording the new songs for the album and practicing the choreography for their title track. These were the times you kind of hated the most about his job since the amount of time the two of you would spend time together was very little. You were sat in bed with your legs spread and embarrassingly fingering yourself. You knew Seonghwa was way better than you were. Because then he uses his mouth and just makes you fall apart again. Soft helpless sobs came from your lips as you were desperately trying to get yourself to cum somehow. You were hearing Seonghwa’s voice in your head which just turned you on more, but it wasn’t the same.

Every time you got there, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to finish. You eventually got fed up and was too tired to try again. But you decided to show Seonghwa what he was missing out on. You grabbed your phone on the beside table and snapped a picture of your unfinished pussy. Aching and left over. You sent it to him with a caption of 'please hurry home.. miss you.. ❤️' and put the phone down back on the nightstand to go clean yourself up. Even walking to the bathroom just to clean yourself up made you shake and wobble. Seonghwa, who got the message notification, was on a water break when he saw the text.

Fuck..

Seeing you like that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it right now? Way turned him on. He kept staring at that wetness between your legs in the picture. He silently cursed to himself. Why couldn’t practice just be done already? He wanted so badly to just hurry home and fuck you with his mouth. It didn’t help that your moans were ringing in his ears. Such a beautiful symphony; it makes his cock twitch. He had to cross his legs and play it off as him getting comfortable. "God.. practice can’t go by any faster.." he mumbled under his breath taking a sip of his water, still staring at the picture you sent. He reacted to the picture with a heart and even replied:

"I’m so sorry my angel. Wait for me pretty, and I promise my tongue will give you paradise 💞"

.

.

.

.

Roughly about 3 hours later, and Seonghwa was finally on his way home, Really was just about to step into the house. Fuck he has never been so hungry for you. The entire way back home was just him thinking about you. You and your cunt. You and your wet, throbbing, and needy cunt. Even thinking about it now made his cock jump. He needed to be inbetween your legs. Now. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, taking his shoes off. A warm feeling hugged his arms walking in like it always did, knowing that you were here. Here, home, and horny as shit. Seonghwa went upstairs to your guys’s shared room and opened the door.

"Angel? Oh.."

He looked on the bed and saw you. Sleeping. "Fuck I’m sorry angel.. did I take too long..?" He whispered. He looked at your sleeping body, lips in a soft pout in your innocent and peaceful rest. You looked so adorable, but he was hungry for that needy pussy. That picture stirred him up. "Pretty.. I’m home.." he softly spoke, not trying to wake you up too much, but enough to know he was home. "hwa.." you hummed, very sleepy. "I saw what you sent me.. need a little help?" You whined a little, nodding, and starting to fall asleep again. "Aww poor thing.. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.. here.."

Seonghwa climbed over you and your now sleeping figure. "So pretty.." he lifted the blankets and saw that you were only in underwear. Underwear and his t-shirt. "Fuck Angel.. you know how to turn me on and I wasn’t even here.." he said. He looked at your sleeping figure. "Least you’ll wake up to something pleasant, yes?" He carefully slid your panties off and pushed your legs apart to see your pussy. "Poor thing.. can’t believe I left you hanging for so long.." he put in 2 fingers and curled them a couple times, eliciting sleepy whines from you.

"So pretty. Even while you’re sleeping.." He took his fingers away and licked them clean. "Fuck angel.. gotta get a better taste of you.." he said, now dipping his face between those legs and starting to suck and use his tongue, groaning at how good you tasted. He could hear whines coming from you, and could feel you regaining your consciousness. "H-hwa.. Seonghwa.." you moaned. Seonghwa kept lapping up your cunt and slurping up your juices. He was eating you out like it was his last meal. You clamped your thighs around his face, telling him you were close.

You had a grip on his hair because of how well he was doing. Loud and long moans were drawn out of you. "Seonghwa! Seonghwa please I’m close.. I’m close please! Please mommy I’m gonna cum!" Mommy? That’s surely new. And hot. He kept going until the coil in your abdomen finally snapped and you came hard on his tongue. He licked it all up, but didn’t stop. He was still going. "S-seonghwa! T-too much! Too much!" You moaned, but he was still going; his tongue reaching every spot in your clit. Even the ones you didn’t know about.

Your legs were shaking. Thighs squeezing around his face as he kept eating your out. The slurping and groaning sounds that would usually embarrass you, turning you on more. "M-mommy.. mommy I’m gonna cum again.." you moaned as you felt the same familiar pit in your stomach. With one of his hands he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it which then set you off again and made you moan his name loud as you creamed on his tongue. And he was there to lick it all up.

You staggeringly whined and moaned as you came down from your second high and seonghwa’s pussy eating finally came to a stop. He came back up and looked at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement. "Mommy, huh?" Your cheeks flushed and you got goosebumps. You looked away before nodding. "Hm.. interesting.." Seonghwa began taking his sweats off. You could see how much he was painfully aching in his boxers. "Need you so bad Angel.. couldn’t wait to get home after I saw the message.. you and that pretty pussy of yours.. fuck.." he groaned.

"Can’t wait to fuck you.." He took off the blankets and began kissing your neck sweetly. "Hwa.." you whined. "Such a pretty girl.." you were still quite tired from the two previous orgasms, but the way Seonghwa was talking, there was no way he was gonna stop now. He was turned on. "Seonghwa.. c-can’t go again.." you whined. Seonghwa was busy worshipping your body and had already taken his shirt off of you while kissing your boobs. "No bra underneath? In my t-shirt? Someone was needy.." you then pouted. "So are you by how you’re kissing me.." Seonghwa chuckled.

"You don’t seem to mind though, right?" He said and went back to your thighs, kissing and biting on them and listening to the sounds of your moans. Seonghwa took off his boxers and alined himself with your hole. "So sorry I kept you waiting my angel.." he said as he entered you, you gasping at the intrusion. "S-seonghwa I-i can’t.. go again.." he began thrusting in you slowly. "Cmon now.. be a good girl for mommy, eh?" You moaned at his words. He went slow for a little bit before going a little faster, hearing your moans get louder. "Oh my fucking god.. Seonghwa.. please more.."

"Ah ah.. that’s not my name, is it angel? Try again.. what’s my name?"

.

.

.

.

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𝓐𝓝: chat- the delay on this story IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭 I GOT IT OUT THOUGH 🥲 Hope you guys enjoy this one!! Lmk in comments or reblogs <3 love you guys and remember to be kind to yourself and drink water ❤️ xoxo

[verstappentime]

From there, there's several more hospital pictures. Max can't picture sharing something so private. It seems like people are following along, though; all the posts have likes in the 5-figures.

There's several where he's just sitting up in bed, and a few of his leg, clearly badly injured: In a sling, in a full cast, in one of those traction things. One gruesome picture of pins in his ankle. He loves emojis, especially the kissy face one. He's upbeat most of the time, but Max can tell when things must have been really bad.

max/charles, 1.3k. it's 2017 and max finds out why he stopped hearing about charles leclerc. (part one?)

Max hasn't thought about Charles in a long time.

He's thought about him in the abstract, whenever he's coming out to someone new, saying, "Oh, her? I would not know, I'm gay." He's thought about being fourteen and unable to talk to Charles without a little secret smile, one he had to bite down. It's how he knew he liked boys for the first time.

But he left karting, and he went to Florida, and then he went to F3, and then to F1, and he left behind everyone his own age. He sees names he recognizes in F3, F2, but never Charles. He doesn't have time to wonder about it.

When he sees the Instagram post, he feels like a bird smacking into a glass window.

premateam 🚨 DRIVER ANNOUNCEMENT 🚨 Welcoming our 2017 F3 driver, Charles Leclerc. We always knew you'd be back, and we would be waiting. ❤️

Charles has done his hair short. He's grinning in the photo, flushed with happiness, leaning against a car with the number 16 plastered on. He's older, leaner. He's handsome.

charles_leclerc SURPRISEEEE! 😘 Better late than never. Three years ago I was learning to walk again. Today back in a single seater for the first time. Never give up ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for the opportunity @premateam

Max's pulse is thumping. Charles, who changed his life and never knew it. What happened to him?

He goes to the previous post. It's from a week ago: a picture of a crash helmet, red with stripes going up and over the top, white and a different shade of red.

charles_leclerc Dusting her off!!!! 🤫 Still fits 😝

He feels like he's missing way too much. He scrolls down rapidly, until the pictures start to wane in quality, probably taken on an older phone.

He clicks into one from 2015; Charles, in a hospital bed with a breathing tube in. He's younger, more like Max remembers him. He looks tiny. It twists something in Max's gut.

He swipes to the next one in the carousel; it's Charles sitting up in bed, dressed in a hospital gown, giving the camera a thumbs up. The third and final bit of the post is a video, Charles doing what looks like some sort of breathing treatment and waving to the person filming with a wink.

charles_leclerc Past week has been crazy… After seeing my car I'm just feeling lucky to be here… Thank you for all the support. Trying to get home soon, hard at work. Love to everyone ❤️❤️❤️

From there, there's several more hospital pictures. Max can't picture sharing something so private. It seems like people are following along, though; all the posts have likes in the 5-figures.

There's several where he's just sitting up in bed, and a few of his leg, clearly badly injured: In a sling, in a full cast, in one of those traction things. One gruesome picture of pins in his ankle. He loves emojis, especially the kissy face one. He's upbeat most of the time, but Max can tell when things must have been really bad.

charles_leclerc Goodbyeeee chest tube! You are not my friend anymore. One day at a time :) Means I get to go back to Monaco, can't wait 🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨

charles_leclerc New hospital & new hardware in femur ✅✅✅ This one hurts can't lie!!! On my way to a new leg though, so good news

charles_leclerc Hard week, bored. Surgery #5️⃣ tomorrow

charles_leclerc Gross right??? Robot Charles incoming

charles_leclerc Got to shower and wash my hair todaaay how does everyone think I look??

charles_leclerc Was supposed to go home this week but infection means I have to stay 👎🏼 👎🏼 Thanks to my brothers for brightening up my room though. @arthurleclerc good luck this weekend 😘

charles_leclerc Surgery #9, maybe the last one! Is that a lucky number??

Max isn't sure what his heart is doing. Twisting, maybe. Charles looks thin and pale in most of the pictures. They're dated weeks apart. He must've been in the hospital an age. Charles had only admitted that he was in pain once, but it had to have been– God. Fucking awful.

Max hasn't seen him since he was 14, but Charles was always kind to him. Sweet. Funny. He was angry when he lost, but only for a little while; he was back and offering to help Max load up his kart within a few hours, rattling on about what he did wrong and how it would never happen again. Usually, it didn't. He smiled like the sun when he won.

Max hurts for him. He should be in F1 by now.

In one post, Charles has taken a picture of a race he's watching on TV. He would have seen Max. He was a few hours away, on the track in Imola, and Charles was in Monaco, in the hospital. It's strange. They've been in the same world the whole time.

Max can't help smiling at his phone when he scrolls to Charles going home. He's in a wheelchair; he's in a different cast, starting under the knee. The next post in the carousel, he's in the wheelchair, reaching up to hug his little brother, who Max has met a couple times.

charles_leclerc Home 🏠 ❤️❤️‍🥰 So happy. Thanks to everyone who sent me nice thingsss got to open it all today :)

The next post is a video; Max ticks on the volume to watch. He recognizes some of the likes – one's Daniel.

The caption says "BEST DAY!!! Four months later!!! Feels like I won a world championship:)" It's an edit, set to 'Rise Up,' which is unbearably corny, but Max has lost God knows how much time catching up on the past two and a half years, and he's not going to miss a win.

The video starts with a clip from the day of his crash; then the clips Max has seen before, of him smiling at the camera; one of him sitting up in bed, hooked up to oxygen with a kind-looking nurse supporting his back, talking to him quietly; a couple of him with a surgical cap on, one where he's clearly hazy.

The video's longer than a minute, so Charles has split it into two parts. Max swipes to the next one.

This one starts with the music is turned down and the raw sound is dialed up. Charles is sitting on the edge of a bed, a nurse supporting him under both armpits and helping him stand. He's grinning right at the person filming; from behind the phone, a man says something in enthusiastic French.

Max's breath catches when Charles comes into the frame, navigating the hospital and then his house with a walking frame – he has some sort of brace on his knee and a walking cast on. There's some where he's gritting his teeth, some where he's smiling. Max isn't sure if he's playing to the camera. It has to hurt. Max doesn't need to know French to know how fucking happy everyone is to see him doing it.

They're getting to the end part of the song, where the lady's singing I'll rise up, for you, and all that. It should be silly, but Max doesn't care. It's good. It's good.

He hasn't even gotten to the best part.

In the last clip, Charles, tentatively, someone spotting him from behind, is walking, still with a heavy brace supporting his bad leg, but by himself.

Max hasn't seen him in three years, but he wants to hug him so badly. He's not sure they've ever done that before. It's better, still, knowing he's going to drive again. He did drive again. If Max cried more, he might now.

Max feels like he's got tunnel vision. This separate life, this place where their stories diverged; he never got to be a part of it, and he feels– weirdly bereft. He never knew Charles beyond their on-track friendship, but there's a strange sense of sadness. There's this nagging thought, I should have been there. He wants to know everything.

He finally lets Instagram lie and Googles Charles Leclerc crash.

[sinnabarmoth]

Getting Older

Pairing: Xavier x Fem|Reader

Prompt: You have an existential crisis when Xavier tells you that he is a centuries year old alien.

Length: 1200

Xavier was hiding something.

After months of officially dating him you could tell when he was trying to hide something from you. Problem is you couldn’t think about what he could possibly have to hide. You knew Xavier. There was a lot of him that was a mystery to you but ever since you got together he had been very open and honest about who he is.

So what was it that he was still keeping to himself?

You were lounging at home, you had just gotten a new video game and Xavier was over to play co-op mode with you. It was a pretty typical day until you noticed that Xavier kept glancing at you. Usually when you played video games he was zeroed in on the screen. You had tested him once just to see how focused he was while playing a video game and started stripping right next to him on the couch. The man did not so much as blink until you were completely naked and then he paused and pinned you to the couch. Apparently he had been aware of what you were doing the entire time and was just biding his time until you were bare.

But now he kept looking over and was barely paying attention to the puzzle you were trying to figure out in the game. Finally you had enough and paused. “What is it?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve been stealing looks at me the entire time you’ve been here. Something is on your mind so just tell me what it is because if we get a game over on this level again I’m going to slap you.” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Now tell me.”

Xavier sighed. “I…there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you but I could never find the right time. Then again, I’ve had enough time to learn that there is no perfect time for anything. There are better moments but I can’t keep this to myself any longer.”

“Xav,” you took his hand. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

“I know. I just don’t want you to freak out when I say this.” Well that was ominous.

Xavier took a deep breath and looked at you. “Do you remember when I said I had killed over 70,000 Wanderers?”

“Yeah. Still have no idea how that is possible for someone so young.” you shrugged. “Is that it? You’re gonna tell me you were exaggerating to look cool?”

“No. I wasn’t exaggerating and I’m not exactly what you would call young.” he cringed away from your inspectful gaze. “I…um…”

“Xavier?” you squeezed his hand. “It’s alright.”

He dropped his head, looking up at you through the fringe of his hair. “I’m not in my twenties like I told you, nor am I exactly human.”

You wanted to ask what he was going on about but remained silent, waiting for his explanation. “The truth is, I come from the planet Philos. The people there age very slowly and about two hundred years ago I came here with some friends. That’s why my record of Wanderer kills is so high. I’ve been around a long time and I’m going to be around for an even longer time.”

“You…” there were so many questions swirling in your head. He was from Philos? Was he really that old? How had no one realized that he had been around for two hundred years if he looks exactly the same? Who were these friends? Were they still around? Who else knew about this?

But what ended up coming out was, “Does that mean you’re still gonna look like this when I’m eighty?”

Xavier blinked at you. “I mean, I suppose. I may look a little older by then but not by much.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Is that all you have to ask? I just told you I’m a centuries old alien.”

“I know. I just--” your brain was short circuiting. “Do you know what it is going to look like if I’m fifty and I’m walking around calling a guy that looks like he’s twenty my husband? They’re gonna think I’m a cougar or a sugar mommy or something! People are gonna think it’s weird!”

“Did you say husband?”

“Wrong thing to focus on!” you sighed, trying to rein your emotions back in. “Sorry. I know you didn’t want me to freak out but my brain is just flooding with thoughts and I can’t sort through all of them at once.”

“It’s alright. I figured this would happen when I told you.” he turned you to face him again. “But I needed to tell you. You deserved to know the truth.”

“And I’m grateful that you did. I don’t care that you’re super old--”

“I wouldn’t say super old--” he muttered.

“--or that you’re technically an alien. I still feel the same as I always did. I still love you.” you cupped his face. His two hundred year old youthful face. “But now I’m thinking about how long this is going to last.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said people on Philos age slowly, right?” Xavier nodded. “So if you age slowly and you look like this at two hundred years old, that means you’re going to be alive for a really long time. But me, I’m just a human. Our average lifespan is eighty years. By the time I’m old and dying you’re still going to be like this. You are still going to be around and me…”

You took in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Pain flashed in Xavier’s eyes, as if this hadn’t occurred to him either. He pressed his forehead to yours. “I…I don’t know what to say to make you feel better. I don’t even know if anything could. I have no answers about what may be waiting for us in the future but I do know this. I do not care how long we have together, I will cherish every single second of it. And if you leave this life while I am still here, know that I will find you in the your next one. I will always find you.”

“I’m going to get so old!” you cried. “I’m gonna be all wrinkly and slow!”

“And you will still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.” he kissed your forehead. “But if there is a way to match our lifespans, I will find it. Because I would want nothing more than to grow old with you. Be it we are given sixty more years or six hundred. I will always love you.”

You hugged him tight. Whatever fears you had about your future you didn’t want to think about them now. Right now you were young and happy and your lives were full. That was all that mattered. And come hell or high water you would find a way to rewrite fate. You would not leave him, not for anything.

He gave you a tissue to wipe at your tear stained cheeks. Once you had calmed down he left a chaste but loving kiss on your lips. He pulled back with a small smile. “So…what did you mean exactly when you said husband?”

Your face flushed with heat all the way up to the tip of your ears. “Oh uh…about that…”

[fushiguruuzzzz]

MEET ME IN THE MOONLIGHT.

PIRATE!K.TETSURO X SIREN!READER

Based off of this request. Implied mentions of violence. No pronouns but fem reader in mind. -1.4k wc

“You’re in the wind, I’m in the water // nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter”

Something intensely beautiful about the ocean was its rise and fall, the roar of tsunamis and the gentle lapping of low tides against bare feet. That's what Kuroo always thought, always admired the emotion, the passion of the moon's ever changing pull. He enjoyed the thrill of waking up in the berth and spending the first five minutes of his day wondering what he’d be facing the moment he stepped out on deck. The tides weren’t just a force deciding the difficulty that would come with doing his job, they were an art—a blessing by the earth filled with mystery and life and the burning rage of mother nature. Every minute came with the anticipation of change. Kuroo always liked consistency, but this was something entirely different.

His boots clanked against the wood of the boat, dampened by the gentle rain that happened hours prior. The moon's cool light casted a fragile glow over the vast ocean ahead, and it grew larger with every step towards the edge. Every movement was driven by purpose, the thrumming in his chest growing louder as the seconds passed.

Pressing his forearms to the plank of wood that kept him from diving over the edge, the cool droplets of splashing water greeted him. It was refreshing, drawing him from the way his mind wandered to what resided beneath the tides. A better statement might be who resided within, because he couldn’t care less about the coral or sunken ships, the decaying wood meaning nothing when put against the new, life giving feeling in his chest.

He knew you’d be here. You trailed in the wake of his ship like it was your reason for breath, even though he was partially certain you didn’t have such a mortal need, anyway. If he was wrong this time, he’d retreat back to his bunk, heavy hearted and feeling sick for reasons other than the sea. But it was rare that Kuroo's instincts drove him to failure; it was what made him a good captain. It wasn’t just leadership and the confidence he strided with, it was knowing deep down when something important was nearing.

He heard a swish, louder and more idiosyncratic than the sound of hungry waves colliding with wood. His head whipped to the side, black locks of hair brushing from his face, similar to times when the winds had caught them. His heart jumped in his ribs as if drawn by the call of a siren. Or love. He thinks it was definitely love.

Through the dimness of the night, he made out a faint yet undeniably distinct outline. He was sure he had it memorized by now, after so many hours spent searching the water for even a trace of it.

He grinned like a fool, catching your piercing gaze as you peeked above the wale. It didn’t leave his lips, a dopey sort of confidence surrounding him as he pushed himself from the railing and sat. his legs dangled over the edge, so close you thought that maybe you could simply reach out and tug him into the ocean with you if you wished—whisk him away and force him into his own demise. Had you been any other being, you might have. If you hadn’t parted from the shackles of your name, his devotion would have been taken advantage of long ago. But you were different—you had grown far too fond of him for that. Truth be told, he could do the same. The glint of sharpened spears in your peripherals reminded you of such.

You took a moment to study him, how docile he looked at the moment. In the gentle glow of the moon, his messy hair appeared a deep brown and his skin looked to be a cool olive. He was pretty, you thought. Prettier than the boys below the surface, with their flowing hair and scaled tails and the lack of risk that came with cherishing them. Besides, even if Kuroo had been blessed with the unity that was sharing your species, nobody else would match the capacity to which he yearned for you. Late nights were spent gazing over the horizon and imagining the way your damp skin would feel beneath his calloused hands, and you often found yourself perched atop a rock and staring at ships from a distance, awaiting the day you’d come by his again.

“You know, in most stories told on shore, the siren calls defenseless men out to her,” he broke the silence, the softness in his voice a contrast to the snarkiness weaved thickly through his words.

Your fingers ran over the side of the boat, absentmindedly feeling the patterns of the wood. “You’re calling yourself a defenseless man?”

He chuckled, the sound ringing out over the quiet of the distance between you. He looked down, a familiar, fond gleam in his eyes. “You and I both know what I am. Is there much of a point in hiding it?”

You paused for a moment, lips tugging up into an almost imperceptible smile. “I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. “...no point in hiding.” The repetition had more meaning than it let on, and both of you knew it.

A comfortable silence settled over you for a moment, only filled by the ambience of the sea, the conflicting directions of the water and masses alike.

He drew in a shaky breath, mouth opening only to shut again. Finally, “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly, a shift from his tease only moments before. He glanced away, and you were sure that pink was starting to bloom over the bridge of his nose.

Something bloomed in your chest, familiar and welcome at the small confession. Of course he’d missed you—Tetsuro Kuroo did nothing if not longing for the blessing of your presence, but to hear him say it made a new form of affection coil within you.

“I’ve missed you too,” you breathed, voice holding a sort of gentleness that contradicted the alluring tone of your song.

“How long has it been, now?” he inquired, “Months?”

Far too long. That’s all you knew, and you knew the same thought was present with him.

With a soft nod, you spoke again. “You’ve been busy. It isn’t your fault you have a crew to support… and authorities to run from.”

His face broke into an amused grin, chest puffing out as he drew in gasps of laughter. “We do,” he said. But then his tone grew softer yet again, and though a layer of humour was wrapped around it as if to protect his heart, there was no denying the vulnerability in it. “But honestly, I probably wouldn’t be so determined if it weren’t for the hopes of meeting you again.”

A pause. Your lips parted in momentary shock. You had always known Kuroo loved you, he wasn’t exactly quiet about it, but you always figured the reason for his lifestyle ventured farther than his infatuation. Kuroo loved supporting others, he enjoyed inspiring and controlling, and he always made sure to have the last laugh. The part that you missed was that he spent every waking moment with your visage etched into the back of his mind, how he’d smooth his hands over the wood of his ship and wonder if the slivers in his skin went as deep as the way he longed for you. He knew the answer was no. From the first moment he saw you, from your first cautious glance from below, he knew that a piece of his soul had broken off and dove beneath the undertow. And as your wary appearances molded into a trust thicker than the misfortune that separated you, that bit of his being was only dragged deeper and deeper, so much so that it was becoming one with your society.

“But you know you’ll always meet me again.”

He smiled. “You’re always somewhere in the currents, sooner or later,” he agreed. “And I’m always waiting.”

He was right. As long as the two of you breathed the same air, you were bound to cross paths again. And for now, you’d share laughs and fleeting tenderness from your separate worlds, united as one.

Gen tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @aldebrana

@cherrysurf & @wakeupmaddie also asked to be tagged 🙂‍↕️

[cherrycranes]

Dream Girl 2 (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You've been video calling Neil for quite some time now, and finally, you decide it's time to go to Gumshoe Video to meet your biggest fan. Word count: 5,211 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is a camgirl. Fluff & smut, praise, unprotected sex, cream pie. Author's notes: Finally, the promised part 2 of this fic, and a collab with queen @fuckiingloser. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Pinterest moodboard at the bottom to help you visualize <3

It had been over a month ago. The initial video call with Neil had blossomed into three more that were, of course, free of charge and highly anticipated by the butterflies in your stomach. Every time they seemed to get better. Skype was replaced by facetime for much more efficiency and besides the expected masturbation and flirtations, there were also laughter and long conversations that would mostly surpass the time spent jerking off. 

After his softly declined attempt on that first call, Neil never brought up meeting again, afraid of scaring you away. Whenever the idea of just how desperate and rushed he must have looked came to memory, he chastised himself. A phenomenon that increased in frequency the longer he spent calling you. You were unbelievable, and you deserved the best of the best. His best self too… Put in a very critical situation, Neil had started to accept that he had a huge crush on you that grew the more he got to know about you. He could have sworn he physically felt it in his chest when, one day, you told him your name. Your real name.

Unbeknownst to him, you felt it too. Everything, in fact. Your previous experiences kept your feelings much better hidden but never cut them off. Neil was just everything you never saw in men. Sweet, cute, emotionally intelligent… His very presence made you realize just how awful, narcissistic and selfish every guy you had dated before was. 

There was something so refreshing about talking with a man whose desire to hear you moan coexisted perfectly fine with his genuine want to hear you speak. You were so beautiful and also so great to talk with. Neil seemed to know that, and it was way too good. Probably the real reason why you intended to keep your feelings at bay, despite the butterflies everytime he popped on your screen. 

Also, there was your own need for safety. No matter how sweet, Neil was still a man and a subscriber. Disclosing too much personal information was a no-go, but you found yourself stuck in the dilemma of wanting him to know you better and wanting to keep some privacy.

You had a facetime scheduled for the next day, despite your cautions you were obviously excited. A cute little purple set Neil would absolutely love hung in anticipation on your closet door at home while you ran some errands, then, a little notification sound distracted you and brought you the news:

“hey beautiful, i’m so so sorry to do this… but one of my employees had a family emergency and can’t cover their shift tomorrow at the store. no one can cover so i have to work unfortunately. i’m so sorry. i hope you’re not upset with me… i was really looking forward to seeing you. hoping we can reschedule?” - neil 

Your face fell a bit upon reading that, still, you understood. He had a business to run and was probably much more upset than you. After a pleasantly soothing reply and a request for a needed reschedule, you carried on. A few seconds and you already missed him, even if you wouldn't show it.

Night fell upon you, you crawled into your baby pink bed with your head reeling and Neil occupying every thought. One impulse was enough to get you to open google maps on your phone and type two words on the search bar: Gumshoe Video.

35 minutes away.

The highlighted blue showed you a different set of routes and transports you could use to get there. To get to him. Gears spun inside your head and then, your own mind locked your phone off. 

That night you tossed and turned in bed for what seemed hours, overthinking it all until sleep finally took over. In the morning Neil still lingered on as you went about your usual routine. The more you pushed him to the back of your head, the stronger he returned. 

Still reeling, you logged into your Onlyfans for some everyday work. When you checked your messages, skipped the creepy ones and answered to politer ones, you found one from Neil sent that morning in response to a lingerie selfie you had sent out the night before.

“god you are the most stunning woman on the planet…”

Heat rushed to your face, smiling at your screen like a schoolgirl overcome with tenderness until something clicked in your brain.

It had to be today.

Pretty much on autopilot and running on adrenaline, you scavenged your closet and tried on five different outfits, finally satisfied with a little pink top with a tiny bow in the middle and a short jean skirt perfect for a hot summer night and for pale blue eyes that loved you in pink. After redoing your hair twice and finding a beautiful reflection in the mirror, you got hold of your bag and phone and headed out towards the train station. Fast enough to not have time to psych yourself out and do a 180 turn back home. 

The train ride to the closest station to Gumshoe Video was when the doubts started to pop in your head. Questions about your own sanity or about how normal your actions were floated all around you the closer it got you to him. Did you make the right choice? Would he be actually glad to see you? What if your arrival annoyed him? Who just shows up somewhere unannounced after previously rejecting someone? Were you fucking insane? 

As you looked out at the city skyline and the war in your mind raged on something persisted: that beautiful smile of plump rosy lips and an endearingly crooked tooth on his lower jaw, that voice with warm undertones and sometimes little purrs, those beautiful eyes of blue that made you think of clear spring skies.

Not going would be insane.

****

Around 8 pm, at a very dead Gumshoe Video, Neil stood behind the counter. Bored. Absentmindedly, he seeked some entertainment by processing a few returned tapes and sometimes glancing towards the tv in the corner to catch a glimpse of the movie playing. 

He was dressed in a ridiculous jail jumpsuit costume as a way to promote the sale going on at the store that weekend. However, despite his efforts and the resourceful way he had thematically decorated his store, there were a million things he’d rather be doing on a Saturday night than be there. One in particular. Seeing his favorite girl. Watching her smile, listening to her laughter and her pretty moans…

But alas, instead of jerking off with her, he was there, all alone. Painfully aware that it would go on and on. The beautiful summer night invited people to go do anything else that wasn’t renting movies from his little store, and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t afford to go home, just in case somebody crazy or socially dead enough decided to actually come in and rent something to watch at home.

Once all the tapes were processed and back inside their cardboard or plastic sleeves, Neil disappeared into the backroom, a ring of the doorbell interrupting his thoughts.

“I'll be right out...” He called out loudly, pushing the last batch of tapes onto the shelf and pulling one out he had forgotten he had. With his gaze fixed on the synopsis, he walked back into the store to greet the customer, his heart immediately stopping when the arial print letters were replaced by the sight of an angel.

That pretty hair, those lovely eyes, a little pink top and a little short jean skirt hugging that beautiful body… It was you. Actually you.

Neil’s eyes went as wide as they could, his body froze in place for the second he spent wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him or not. You exchanged gazes the whole time. Your hands shook like a leaf and your heart pumped madly in an anticipatory crescendo, the lines between being a tangible reality and an internet fantasy completely blurred. A part of you started to wonder just how welcomed you were or, in a rush of pure anxiety, if he was disappointed in any way.

“Hi.” You finally whispered, testing the waters and breaking the increasingly uncomfortable silence. You saw the way his spit went down his throat in a gulp of preparation and how his eyelashes fluttered twice before he finally had the courage to speak.

“You… You’re here…” Neil was in pure, utter, cute, adorable disbelief, and it got a smile and a small laugh from you.

“I am… I just wanted to see you… I took the train…” You rambled, with your head still fuzzy.

In between your own whirlwind of beautiful yet heart-thumping feelings, Neil finally walked up to you, forgetting all about the vhs tape on his hands and automatically setting it aside. Instead, his focus was on you, the very few inches between you two, the way you looked at him and studied his face up close, finally free of the veil of the computer screen. God, he was even better looking in person. His eyes were bluer, hypnotizing. His lips looked even rosier and he had cute light freckles that the camera had failed to capture. You just hoped that the amazement was mutual.

Looking down at you with those sweet pale eyes, he held your gaze, the knowledge that you were real, that you were here finally settling in.

“You are so gorgeous… Even more so in person…” He whispered, his hand already reaching out to touch yours ever so gently, just to make sure he wasn’t actually mistaken about your tangibility.

For the first time in what you were sure was forever, you got shy. Your head lowered and your face burned. Gentle sparks filled your stomach as he came up to use a finger to tilt your chin up.

“Don’t hide from me…” he whispered gently. 

Smiling softly, you looked into his eyes. 

“I can't believe you’re here” Neil continued, his voice soft and adoring. 

“I know it's kind of crazy of me to just show up but… I was just sad you couldn’t make our call…” Your voice was just as soft, his fingers laced with yours like they were meant to be there.

“I was upset too about missing it… I had been looking forward to it all week…” He admitted with a soft smile. “But now I'm even happier you’re here… You are so beautiful.” God, he was just the sweetest thing on earth. The kindest man you had ever met.

After the initial feelings, you finally allowed your eyes to discover your surroundings. Gumshoe Video was a small, cute, kitschy and very Neil Lewisesque store that the google maps pictures didn’t do justice. It was truly him transformed into a place.

“I love the store…” You smiled, your sight drawn to the tv and the old movie playing: Brief Encounter. 

“I've had it on at the store for almost a month… It makes me think of you…” Neil admitted, a callback to your first call that made your heart burst. 

“I love the outfit too…” Now you confessed, visions of gray and white stripes making you chuckle. “Prison Break vibes…” Your joke lightened the mood, he shook his head in sweet embarrassment. 

“If I would have known you’d be here… I would have never worn it…” He chuckled, Brief Encounter in the background took over for a moment as he took your presence in and embraced it.

“We close in about an hour but I could close up a little early… It’s dead anyway. Maybe we could… I don't know… Maybe watch a movie together?” He finally gathered the courage to speak with a nervous and hopeful smile. Butterflies flew wildly in your stomach and the answer was obvious.

“Yeah, I'd love that…” With that, Neil stepped away to lock the door and turn the open sign off. Officially, he was all yours for the night.

“Let me get out of this stupid costume… Go ahead and pick anything you want to watch, I'll be right back...” Neil and all his sweet smile disappeared into the back of the store, leaving you to browse the store and run your well manicured fingers over the spines of the vhs tapes. Every touch to the smooth plastic only reassured you, you were really there… with him, in all his simple short sleeve button up, black pants and converse glory that returned to the store. He was so casual yet so hot, everything yours tingled when he came over to you.

“Seeing anything you like?” He flashed you that pretty smile once again, nearly distracting you from the mental lists of titles you found interesting. 

“Seeing a few things I like…” You flirted a little as you looked right at him, less shy than earlier and coming back to yourself. A rush of satisfaction took over you when he blushed a bit.

“What about Notting Hill?” You pulled the respective tape off the shelf with a perfectly convincing smile. 

“Good pick… Very fitting for our dynamic I suppose… Just a few minor differences…” Neil winked, taking the tape and going straight to put the movie on for you. Getting comfortable on the couch, a little excited smirk formed upon your lips when he turned off the lights, making it so the tv, the sun setting outside and the numerous neon signs inside the store gave the room a dull sensual glow. 

Eventually, he sat down next to you exuding both anxiety and adoration… You were his dream girl after all… And you were in his store, on his couch, watching a romantic movie… Anything could happen…

He pressed play on the remote and you settled in, despite this being the first meeting in the flesh you felt like you belonged in his presence. 

Notting Hill rolled on and despite everything, you were focused on Neil only. His refined side profile glowed with the colors on the screen. His soft brown curls, his pink lips, and pretty blue eyes drew you in more than any movie could, no matter how great. Still, it would have been rude to not pay attention to Julia Roberts, so you snapped out of it and returned to the story… Or at least you tried.

Neil’s big hand moved to touch your exposed thigh, making your breath hitch slightly. Despite how sudden it was, the touch was so soft, so reverent, and, quite honestly, arousing. The purple lace beneath your skirt dampened. All those nights you touched yourself and imagined his hands on you seemed so distant now that you were finally there, with him. 

Did you really want to waste time?

Your eyes met in the dim light, the tension between you surviving off the licks to his own lips and the glances you gave to them. When he did the same to you, no words were needed. 

You leaned in fast, your lips finally meeting after desiring each other for so long. Electricity ran wild between your bodies, from the tips of your meeting tongues to the tips of your fingers on the back of his neck. Neil groaned softly yet gripped your thigh hard, just in case you wanted to vanish into thin air and leave him longing forever for this hot, sensual, passionate kiss you were sharing. To his relief, you got into his lap, proving to him again just how real everything was. Your tiny jean skirt rolled up even higher as you straddled his thighs, finishing with the last supply of air he had in his lungs. He had to pull back, admiring you between ragged breaths.

“Fuck you are so hot…” Neil rasped almost in disbelief, hands on your sides and cock twitching to life in his jeans. The tempting flesh of your ass got a soft squeeze that made you moan, his eyes traced a path of adoration from your parted lips all the way down to your cleavage.

“These perfect tits…” He whispered, his hand cupping one over the flimsy tank top you took ages to select and had proven to be the right choice. He squeezed it gently, his thumb rubbing over your hard nipple gently. “You are unreal…” 

With the eagerness to please he had and all the amazement you felt at his sweetness and passion, you found yourself lost in his kiss again, grinding against his lap. Neil moaned into your mouth when your hand snaked between you and squeezed the bulge in his pants. You had seen it before, you knew it was a sizable handful but no amount of pixels could actually prepare you for the feeling of it, for the way it twitched beneath the denim and your moving hand when you bit his lower lip.

“We-we should move this to my office…” Neil stammered right after pulling back for air. “Anyone can see through the front windows…” He panted.

“Mmm, naughty naughty….” You smirked, play-pretending to scold him with that sensual tone of voice he adored. “You wanna fuck me over your desk, huh?”. 

Neil’s baby blues widened a bit and he nodded with a shortness of breath.

“Jesus, yes- more than anything…” He breathed. 

“Well…Looks like it’s your lucky day…” Getting off his lap, you offered him a hand and a sexy smirk.

“Today’s already been the best day of my life… This is just the cherry on top…” He took your hand, once he was standing he wrapped an arm around you and kissed you all the way to his little office in the back. A cute, dorky, perfect cozy space that was just like him and was going to bear witness to what could happen between you behind closed (and cautiously locked) doors.

You sat on top of his desk like a throne, leaned back on your elbows just to show him everything he was about to have.

“Fuuuck me.” Neil groaned at the sight. “I need this little skirt gone…” As direct as his words, his hand undid the bronze button and zipper and tugged the denim down to your thighs before losing it somewhere. Your little purple lace thong greeted his hungry eyes and blessed his fingertip.

“Feels so good to touch after so long of just watching…” Adoring disbelief filled each of Neil’s words, sending a pulse of desire straight to your core. You looked at him, the way he stood between your parted legs and soaked in the feeling of having you laid out on his desk for him. 

“Felt good to touch your cock for the first time after just watching… Felt good in my hand… Can’t imagine how good it’ll feel when you fuck me with it…” You purred, your desire for his touch speaking through your mouth. 

He smirked, fingers hooking on the purple band of your thong and taking it to meet your lost skirt. The pink tank top followed not long after, leaving you completely naked on the cool wooden surface.

He nearly made his lip bleed from how hard he bit it, the sight of your perfect pussy and tits worth every second of wait, more so now in the flesh, in front of him and ready. 

Neil wasn’t a virgin by any means, yet his short relationships were absolutely nothing now. No previous partner, hell, not even the unreachable movie stars that he adored could ever come close to you. And he had something clear, it was not the time to shy away. It was his chance with the girl of his dreams and he would make it count.

“Jesus…” He breathed out, index and middle fingers gently parting your folds and delighting in just how wet he found you, his cock already leaking in his boxers.

“All for you…” You purred those familiar words that his speakers had whispered to him many nights before and now felt much sweeter coming straight from your lips. He smiled. All for him…

His hands immediately found his belt and did the magic trick. Belt, pants and boxers all gone in a few moments, his thick, perfectly curved, aching cock bobbing free finally. You bit your lip now, groaning at the sight of him in person, no computer screen.

“Wow…” You whispered, a bead of precum seeping from his tip, your cunt clenching around nothing. Obviously, you weren’t a virgin either, but after doing solo stuff for only fans for so long and not fucking somebody in almost a year, you were just as needy as one.

“Big enough for you?” He smirked a little, his lust filled eyes mirrored by yours. You nodded with a cheeky smile. “Condom?” He asked. “I have one in here in a drawer somewhere…” he rambled, opening a desk drawer midway through and being stopped by your hand.

“I'm on the pill… I wanna feel you… All of you…” Your sensual whisper nearly sent him over the edge, his breath hitching. 

“Fuck..” He whispered to himself, anticipation seeping through. Every inch he got closer to you was an inch that was driving him crazy. When he pulled you to the edge of his desk, his leaking tip nudged your pussy and coaxed a little moan from you. You were ready, so ready. And from the way your hearts were beating, this felt like more than just a hookup. 

A gasp escaped from your lips, his cock parted you and easily slided in from just how wet you were, all the way in until his hips kissed the inside of your thighs so intimately. 

“Oh my god…” He groaned, eyes of blue closing and head of dark brown curls falling back. You were right, big enough for you, stretching you out a bit. “You feel…” He trailed off looking back down to watch himself push deeper. “You feel like heaven…” he almost whimpered. 

You moaned louder and he filled you even fuller, finally hitting the deepest part. Locking both your gazes he laid down on top of you, face to face, squishing your tits against his clothed chest. A hot kiss took care of your sweet lips right before he started to move with an adoring slowness.

Grabbing a handful of his t-shirt, you urged him on, asking your skin to intertwine with his and feeling every bit of him with this slow pace. Neil pulled back from the kiss, lips hovering over yours, hips pistoning a little faster. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered into your lips. “So tight and fucking hot…”

The word “hot” mixed with a loud moan from you, your mouth hung open to catch more of his fiery licks. With the increasing speed, Neil found the right pace. The rightest, most delicious pace that didn’t leave you wishing for more nor hurt you from its urgency. It was just perfect.

“Neil…” You whimpered, a hand tangling in his curls and guiding his head to rest in the crevice of your neck where he planted hot, wet kisses. You arched into him, into his thrusts and addictive touch. Finally knowing what it was like. 

From the crevice to your ear, Neil nibbled, kissed and licked, his warm breath tickled your lobe before whispering softly. 

“You are so perfect… I just wanna make you come…  Make you feel so good…” You moaned in response, all the never-felt-before passion and attention nearly taking the words off you. “I want this pretty pussy to come all over my cock baby…” your wet, fluttering pussy clenched to the beat of those words, luring him and making him groan too.

“I want you to come too…” With your capacity to string a coherent sentence back, you whined. You were begging so softly, squeezing him so needily, taking him to places he only saw in his fantasies, and making him feel so aware of how little he was going to last.

He moved his hips faster, reflecting your own desperation for sweet release. Skin slapped against skin and filled the room with erotic noises you didn’t even fully process from the feeling of everything combined. Neil pulled back, standing to fuck you onto the desk and giving you a good view. Big hands gripped your hips for support and he pounded into you, making the delicious flesh of your tits bounce and the tip of his cock hit the right places.

“Fuck me… You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen...” He groaned out of breath, sweetly worming into your ears and hooking you to his praises forever. That familiar pressure tightened your lower abdomen and made you whimper.Addicted, Neil went back to lay chest to chest with you, not wanting to miss a thing. The tips of your noses gently rubbed together, mingling your breaths, his cock speared you over and over again and as much as it could with the way you had his hips held with your legs. He went deeper, impossibly deeper.

“Oh fuck.. I-I’m not gonna last much longer baby… You feel so fucking good…” His warning whisper kissed you on the lips, the proof manifested in the form of urgent snaps of his hips. 

“I'm-I’m close too, Neil…” You whimpered, eyes half lidded. “Please, come deep…” And those three words were enough to make his mind go blank.

The ultimate fantasy, the dream girl, the actual dream. Begging him, him, to come inside her. Neil never once stood a chance at holding out. Thick digits snaked between you and thumbed your clit in hard, reason-killing circles. So hard, so intense, you nearly confused the light freckles on his face with stars.

“Come for me baby…” he panted softly, begging you. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, the pressure in your depths bubbled over and spilled. Your loud moan reverberated in the small room and enveloped you, the sound waves rippled over the curve of your arching back and traced the shape of your hands clawing at him over his shirt. 

“Holy shit…” He groaned at the feeling of your already tight cunt clenching him even tighter. “Fuck, i’m coming too...” he confessed with a straining voice. His eyes shut tight and his hips slowed to a stop when his aching cock pulsed with need inside you.

His pretty face buried against your neck and left an offering of loving kisses and soft whispered praises as you rode out your orgasms together. 

“Oh my god…  Take it all baby… I think this pussy was made for me…” He whispered, peppering kiss after kiss on your skin and painting your pussy white. Your eager spasms made sure that not a single drop was left without your intoxicating warmth.

When you both finished and his ragged breaths caressed your neck, he remained there, buried deep inside and fully processing it all, rosy lips still kissing you. Once he had recovered enough air, he gazed into your eyes, gave you one last kiss while still connected with you and finally pulled out. 

He was amazed and wide eyed, his hot cum seeping out of your pussy was truly a sight plucked straight from his dreams, and you were well aware.

“How does it look?” You whispered with what little breath you had. Neil took a second to answer, having to blink the hypnosis of your leaking cunt away from his eyes just to be able to find words inside his brain.

“It looks incredible…” With a husky voice and disbelief, he whispered. He had never fucked anyone raw before, much less came inside them… Something inside him had been stirred and changed forever and he didn’t even have all the words he would need to describe it.

You looked him over, he eventually had to stop studying the creampie he had given you just to admire the rest of your beauty sprawled out on his desk just for him. Something upon his face irradiated love and amazement.

There was a random movie t-shirt in his office that he was grateful he had there, he gently used it to clean you up and, unknowingly, confirm once more just how sweet he was. Any other man would have thrown it at you and made you do it yourself. Neil would never. He wiped with so much care until everything between and beneath you was clean and the t-shirt balled up and tossed aside. 

Next, he got dressed, tucking his tired and well spent cock back into his pants, just decent enough to bend down and gather every piece of your clothing strewn all over his office. He handed them to you so kindly, keeping his eyes on you until you were dressed again and he could break the silence. 

“That was…” He started to speak, almost distracted by the way you walked up to him and wrapped your loving arms around his neck.

“Perfect?” You finished his sentence with a smile. He laughed, arms wrapping around your hips.

“I was gonna say a dream come true… but perfect works too…” Neil whispered with his face only inches apart from yours, inciting you into a lovingly intimate butterfly kiss and then a little peck. Pulling back, he tucked a portion of your hair behind your ear and with the same hand cupped your cheek. So delicately. You were precious to him.

“Would you like to come back to my place? Spend the night? I live right down the road… I just want to hold you…  If not i understa-“ he started and you cut him off, sure of your answer this time.

“I'd love to.” You said immediately, enjoying the way his eyes lit up.

No more hiding from your feelings for him. No more pretending you didn’t reciprocate.

“Are you ready to go then?” He asked softly, like the gentleman he was and had always been since day one. Smiling, you took his hand, letting him guide you to the back exit, until you sat on the passenger’s seat of his car. In front of the steering wheel, he took a second to admire you, to, once again, confirm that you were real. Not thinking about it, he leaned over the center console and gave you a soft kiss before he took you to his place.

“Sorry… I just had to…” He said so sweetly you could have melted all over the seats and console. You gave him another little kiss for good measure, and you buckled in, sightseeing the suburbs until a forest green house with the number 621 appeared in the distance.

You couldn’t help but wonder how things would go in there. How would you feel in the morning? How would he feel in the morning? Was the mystery and fantasy over now that he had gotten a taste? Now that it was clear you were into him, was the high of chase over for him? What would happen now that it’s all real life? What's next for you?

Thoughts swirled in your head and before you realized it, he was pulling into his driveway, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“We’re here.” He said, turning to look at you with that perfect bright smile you’ve loved since your first call. “You ready to go inside, beautiful?” 

Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser

[widowromanova]

Sniper (part 1) - Natasha x Female Reader

warnings: mentions of violence (guns etc.)

word count: 1244

You've been trying to catch and stop Natasha for as long as you can remember; you finally see her again, after 3 years.

a/n: inspired by a prompt I saw on TT that suddenly gave me insane motivation to write

Your former work for SHIELD, coupled with the glowing recommendation Fury had written for you, had opened doors you never thought possible. High(er)-level intelligence agencies had practically lined up to recruit you, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself entrenched in a new world of operations and classified missions. Your current boss, a calculating and ambitious higher-up with ties that ran deep, had recently assigned you to a high-priority duty. The mission was clear but personal - the kind that made your pulse race and your resolve waver. After three years of chasing her, she was finally within your grasp.

Natasha Romanoff had become chaos, her cunning mind orchestrating a series of events that threatened to destroy global stability. She manipulated world leaders, sowing distrust among allies and tearing apart her long-standing professional relationships. Whispers of a bio-weapon project capable of targeting populations only added to the growing unease among those who suspected her involvement. Yet, to the public, and even some former allies, she maintained an innocent facade, always frustratingly one step ahead. She had made her plan clear to you all those years ago:

Natasha had locked her piercing gaze onto yours. "You know how bad it's gotten, Y/N. The leaders are puppets, and the people-” she paused, “they don’t even realize they’re asleep.”

“You can’t seriously believe getting rid of all of it is the answer,” you’d argued, the weight of her words settling uneasily. Her lips had curved into a faint smile, not of humour, but of certainty.

“It’s not about belief. It’s about necessity. Only through destroying one thing can we rebuild something that works. Governments, alliances - they don't work. They need to be erased.”

“Erased? Do you even know what you sound like, Natasha? And replaced with what? You?”

She paused.

“If that’s what it takes.” Her voice had been calm, no sense of hesitation, her conviction chilling. “Survival of the fittest. No corruption. No weakness.”

At the time, you’d thought it was just frustration talking, the cynical musings of someone who’d been through too much. But now, you realised she’d meant every word. Natasha wasn’t just dismantling the world’s structure - she was forging it into her vision of perfection. And you had been too blind to stop her then.

From then, you knew every move she made was deliberate - you had known her to be an incredibly smart woman ever since you met her. And of course, your history with her proved to be of convenience to organisations, though you were frequently hesitant to speak her name.

The night air was cold, the city sprawled out beneath you in a labyrinth of lights. The sniper rifle before you felt like an extension of yourself; "That sounds ridiculous," you thought, but every inch of the weapon's polished surface was familiar to you. You leaned into the scope, propped up on your elbows. Silence, broken only by the occasional hum of traffic below. You knew, of course, that Natasha would never trust anyone else to do work for her, she was after all a self-proclaimed "lone wolf" (you had always made fun of her for that). You couldn't see her yet, but you knew she was coming.

Your superior had instructed you simply: to wait, and then take the shot when you saw her. Each minute that passed, the tension in your shoulders grew, your thoughts tightening into a knot of uncertainty.

You adjusted the focus on the scope, making sure every inch of the room was visible, your pulse steady. You felt your warm breath mix with the stinging cold of the air around you, manifesting into a puff of smoke.

There you saw it, her gleaming red streaks of hair.

For a moment, the city below seemed to disappear, the noise fading into a distant hum. All that remained was the image of her, framed perfectly in your sight. Your heart beat a little faster, not from the tension of the mission, but from something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years. The memory of her, the way she used to make you feel. You held your breath, the moment heavier than anything else you had ever done.

And then, as if she could sense your gaze, she turned. Her head shifted slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the window across the street. You froze as her eyes locked onto yours through the scope. The world blurred around her stare, and everything you had told yourself about this mission - about her - faded into the background.

She knew. The realisation hit you like a punch. She had always been sharper than anyone gave her credit for, but in this moment, it wasn’t just about strategy. It was a silent acknowledgment, that you were no longer just playing a game of cat and mouse. Her lips barely parted, as if she were about to speak - though the words never came.

The silence between you was deafening, the weight of it pressing in from all sides. You didn’t know if she would move, if she would even give you a chance to make the shot. The corner of her mouth was slowly tugged up her face, the faintest smirk forming as if she knew exactly what you were feeling: she could sense the panic radiating from your skin. Of course she knew, she always knew.

Your trigger finger twitched, the red spot on her forehead suddenly becoming painfully obvious. She slowly raised her empty hands up to the air as if to surrender, the smirk still prominent on her face. Her right hand began to form a gun shape, her fingers curling into a mock trigger, and with a playful yet mocking precision, she brought it to her temple. She paused, and then, with a small grin, mimicked pulling the trigger, the "pew" sound escaping her lips exaggeratedly. It was a cruel game of control. The image of her - carefree, taunting - causing your finger to tense on the trigger.

You watched as she lowered her hand slowly, the smirk still playing on her lips, her eyes never leaving yours. "Come on, you still have it in you, don’t you?" she taunted through the wiring in the room feeding directly to your ear, her voice a low, amused whisper.

The mockery squeezed at every nerve in your body. Every instinct told you to act, to end this, but you faltered. She was still the woman you once knew, the one who had shared everything with you, and now she was daring you to pull the trigger.

"You know where to find me," she whispered again.

In an instant, the room’s lights flickered, a low hum filling the air. Before you could react, the lights completely blackened, plunging you into suffocating darkness. The only sound that filled the silence was your own breathing, shallow and sharp, as rage set in once again. The weight of the rifle in your hands seemed heavier now as you dropped onto your arms in sudden exhaustion.

The lights flickered back to life, but the room was empty. Your heart skipped a beat as you scanned the space, your eyes darting from corner to corner. Nothing. As if she had never been there at all.

You lowered the rifle slowly. She had just given you the slip again. You clambered up, kicking your equipment out of your way in your anger.

"Fuck."

a/n: part 2 coming soon ;)) (promises of SMUT SMUT SMUT)