#I choose my own content thank you very much

[really-fanny-longbottom]

okay sooooo

i had this little thought right

okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)

this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)

then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)

then you can choose where that goes from there

lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head

its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!

hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.

anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!

i hope you like it! 🫶🏻

my hero

summary: a small but very happy incident.

warnings: none

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 2.2k

tick 

tack

tick 

tack 

"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy. 

as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.

it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything. 

the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once. 

you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.

a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.

you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically. 

you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.

how could just a person cause such a mess?

tick 

tack

tick

tack

"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again

at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain. 

before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.

you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.

this was going to be a very long day.

and that's when it you.

your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets. 

after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise. 

a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time. 

10:07 am

"oh, shit."

you were late for your internship at the clinic.

"oh, shit."

you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress. 

you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.

when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room. 

as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.

the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body. 

"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.

great, as if your day wasn't already going badly. 

"sorry," a small voice said.

you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend. 

right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor. 

the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.

"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."

you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.

"idiot!" you cursed quietly. 

you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.

so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.

rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance. 

their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.

the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.

"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.

you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."

rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."

"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.

you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.

"what?" you asked confused. 

cassian's eyes roam over your body.

"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.

cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."

you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."

rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times." 

cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."

with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.

as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.

instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.

the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place. 

what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail. 

and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.

"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.

"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.

at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.

"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.

the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name. 

his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n." 

you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.

azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter. 

he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.

cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger. 

"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen. 

"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.

"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers." 

azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look. 

"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself  "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other." 

both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.

"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.

rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?" 

you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."

"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.

azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.

azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.

"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth. 

cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir." 

azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly. 

he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.

he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.

azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.

he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain. 

"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late." 

without a second thought, azriel took a step back.

"here," he told you.

you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.

your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos. 

you loved those tattoos. 

"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.

"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"

"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk." 

your face softened, "really? you would do that?" 

the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.

"of course." 

you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."

you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.

you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.

caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch. 

a new blush came to decorate his cheeks. 

"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears. 

"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes. 

azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.

cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love. 

cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.

"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete. 

rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."  

azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.

"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.

once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.

a goofy smile reappeared on his face. 

he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."

cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.

•••

the trip to the clinic was quick.

azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.

you took a step forward before turning to him.

"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning." 

and there it was that goofy smile again.

"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure." 

you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.

azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat. 

you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?" 

you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.

"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.

he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye. 

azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.

he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.

it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear. 

and you were the right person for that.

azriel made a decision at that moment.

at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.

he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.

he just hoped you felt the same way.

and that you said yes.

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[warmshotamilk]

https://www.tumblr.com/warmshotamilk/763978771610075136/antis-need-to-channel-their-energy-towards-getting?source=share The day I decided to stop using instagram I came across a filmed video of a real child in distress and the parent was filming and the comments were so abusive towards the child. Then I scrolled down a few and it was a "proshippers are gross" reel and the comments were like "stop defending abusers!!" with a heck ton of likes Never again will I use a site with an algorithm again ...

Fuck Instagram and fuck parents who monetize their fucking children even more

[cregansdingdong]

So…

Cregan on a day going on a frenzy out of nowhere and full on fucking the brains out of his wife THE WHOLE DAYYYY, neglecting his duties while the other Lords call for him and he straight up threatens to kill anyone who dares interrupt him…on my knees rn🧎🏻‍♀️

Go off, your majesty👑🙇🏻‍♀️

NEGLECTING HIS DUTIES---CONGRATS CAUSE UR DEFO A MOTHER AFTER THAT WOOOOOOOOO ALRIGHT.

so. my brain is doing a think. a nice, slutty think.

Let me just start by clarifying that Cregan, above all else, respects his position just as the majority of his ancestors have done before him. He's very serious about being the Warden of the North and he really does his best to...behave himself. Sometimes though, he doesn't.

alright thats enough thinking its time to fuk. i sincerely apologize for what im about to unleash. may the odds be ever in your favor i guess lol

ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ.

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty. no SRSLY this one needs like twenty more nsfw warnings

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"You can take it.” He murmurs into the quiet of their chambers, eyes trained down where he’d connected to his wife for the third—no, maybe fourth time since they’d risen that day. He’d lost count, much like she had. It felt pointless to keep track anyway. All that mattered was that it felt good. Filling her deep, slow, teeth dug into her calf over his shoulder just to ground himself and remember where he was. The Lord of Winterfell was cunt-drunk beyond belief. 

Cregan woke that morning without the thought of his tasks for the day. No. None at all. His wife was sitting up in their marital bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, reaching over for her soft robe—Gods, he lost absolute control of himself, of his restraint. He saw the supple planes of her back, and that was all it took, really. He’d taken her on her stomach first, a satisfying, lazy fuck that he couldn’t hold himself from coming early. That didn’t mean he was done, by any means, just momentarily winded. His mouth worked just fine to bring her to peak.

Seeing his own seed dribble out of her pretty cunt was enough to make him hard all over again. He feasted on her for breakfast, smearing his come over her pearl and cleaning it off nice and clean. He loved the way she tasted when she released against his mouth—loved the way his own release tasted when mixed with her slick. Delving his tongue deep, hands gripping her fleshy backside as he was torn between lapping up his own seed from her or pushing it further in. Gods, it was obscene. That made him all the more feral to go again. Everything was so warm when he slipped himself back inside. Whatever possessed him that day was unknown to either of them.

It was frantic, breathy—short strokes that were brief but hard enough to make her eyes roll back. Cregan held himself up via the backboard, thankful more and more every day that he’d chosen the sturdiest design imaginable as he snapped his hips against her ass. His wife was a thorough mess, mewling inconsolably as the sensitivity from her last release was front and center. She came again as his cockhead hit that spot like a bullseye.

They took a respite, thankfully. Cregan had never felt himself so drained of seed before. But, back to where we were: "You can take it.” He murmurs into the quiet of their chambers, eyes trained down where he’d connected to his wife for the third—no, maybe fourth time since they’d risen that day. He’d lost count, much like she had. It felt pointless to keep track anyway. All that mattered was that it felt good. Filling her deep, slow, teeth dug into her calf over his shoulder just to ground himself and remember where he was. The Lord of Winterfell was cunt-drunk beyond belief.

This time, his thrusts were deliberate, keen, and languid. He was fucking her. Making love. Making heirs. Pushing his come as deep as it could go and satiating his urge to breed her until she was round with the litter of her Lord Wolf. She was on her back, by the edge of the bed, eyes locked on Cregan’s light eyes, her pupils equally as dilated as she watched him take his time with her. “You—have a meeting today.” Huh. He did.

“Don’t care.” He grunts, thumbs pushing into the back of her thighs. His brows were furrowed in concentration, only seeing the sweat gathering on her clavicle, the flush of her cheeks, the way her nails were digging into the sheets—the tunnel vision was going to make him bust. “You’re forgetting.” She moans, head tilting back. “Forgetting—mmmh! Forgetting your responsibility to your bannermen.” Cregan bit her calf harder at the mention of them. “I don’t care. I’ll slit the throat of any man who dares remove me from your perfect cunt, wife.” He rasps, now briefly recalling that he was supposed to attend first thing in the morning. Ah, well, too late now.

“You’d better fill me then, my Lord husband.” She giggles, delighted at the prospect of having him all to herself for the day. “If we’re going to spend the afternoon making pups, we’d better not disappoint them.” His eyes flick up at her face as he pauses his deep thrust, squeezing her thighs in his large hands. A rumble of a sultry laugh emits from his chest. “Your womb will take all that I give it, woman. I’ll make sure of that.”

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[joyceisfox]

NEAT - Part 2

Hello!! hope you guys everything is well:)

This month's content is creamy furniture and clutter items, many colors for you choose,

Hope you will like it! :)

and：I apologize for my lateness. In the past few months, I have had a lot of work to do in my daily life and my physical condition is not very good, so thank you for your continuous support. Thank you soo much for everthing! 🥲♥

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Search NEAT or Joyce to find the items

Some items  share the same textures,  please ensure that there is a file ending with 'texture' in your Mods folder

New 20 items

Base Game

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TOU:

Please do not claim as your own.

请勿声称创作者是你自己

Please do not re-upload.

请勿重新上传

Please do not re-edit.

请勿重新编辑我的网格

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⏬DL: Early Access 

⏬Public on July 31th 16:00 Beijing Time

[teapartyprincess4two]

Hi

Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)

A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)

And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏

Thank uuuuu 😘

Babygirl- J. Guilbert

pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie

classification: fluff

warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long

inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

—

Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.

Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.

At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.

So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.

Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.

“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.

“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”

Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”

“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.

“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.

“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.

Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.

“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.

Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.

“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.

Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.

—

From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.

Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.

They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.

Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.

“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.

“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.

The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.

Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.

Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.

“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.

“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.

“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.

“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.

“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.

Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.

“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.

“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.

Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.

“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.

“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.

Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.

“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.

“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?

“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.

“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.

“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.

Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.

As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.

“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.

—

It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.

“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.

The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.

“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.

You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.

“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.

“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.

“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.

“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.

“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.

“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”

As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.

Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.

Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.

“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.

“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.

“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.

Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.

She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.

“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.

“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.

“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.

“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.

—

The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.

“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”

“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.

He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?

You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.

You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.

The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.

“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.

“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.

“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Okay, babygirl.”

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.

anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient ��✨

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THE GRUMPY VS SUNSHINE TROPE *  assorted dialogue for that great dynamic between a guarded character and a warmer character, adjust as necessary

GRUMPY CHARACTER

do you ever stop smiling?

life sucks. get over it.

no one ever listens to me. at least, not until you showed up.

i didn't ask for your opinion.

there are more important things i should be dealing with.

i don't talk about my feelings with anyone.

that was a little uncalled for.

i didn't mean to talk your ear off.

i work better on my own.

what did you say to them to get them to listen?

i don't want to talk to you. in fact, i don't want to talk to anyone.

can you just leave me alone?

i never said i would help you.

you can't just talk your way out of problems.

everything was fine until you showed up.

now if you'll excuse me, i have better things to do.

what's so great about this place, anyway?

my opinion doesn't matter anyway.

i don't have time for "fun."

i just want to get this done and go home.

that's never been up to me to decide.

do you stick your head into everyone's business, or just mine?

if it's all the same to you, i'd prefer to be alone.

no one asked you to get involved.

i don't have a choice. it's my duty.

you're interrupting me again.

can we talk about this another time?

you've been listening to me talk for an hour now.

how do you stay so positive all the time?

i'm perfectly content just the way i am, thank you very much.

can't you see they're taking advantage of you?

SUNSHINE CHARACTER

i wish you would just listen to what i have to say.

i have to try and stay positive. it's the only way we get through this.

nothing good can come from constant negativity.

i believe in myself because no one else will.

i've seen what happens when the bad outweighs the good.

we just have to stay strong.

you never know what someone is going through.

i am capable of more than you give me credit for.

i don't think you're a bad person.

there's so much more to life than this.

you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

have you tried being nice to them?

a compliment goes a long way.

i choose to be kind.

i just don't see the point in staying silent.

i'm just trying to look out for you.

there's no need to be rude.

we could work together as a team. did you ever think about that?

if you need my help, i'm here for you.

you should smile more often.

i wish you would just be yourself.

for what it's worth, i like who you are now.

we don't have to fight all the time.

being soft is not a weakness.

i want to make this work between us.

despite all that, i'm still here for you.

if you ever want to talk, i'm here to listen.

you're not as bad as you make yourself seem.

i've never seen you that way.

i've come to care about you.

[dedmerath]

Hell is NOT Forever! a Hazbin Hotel Fan game

Hi! I'm Merath, and I'm developing a HH fan game, where you play as a brand new Sinner Adam in a quest to redeem himself and find his place inside the hotel.

What kind of game is it?

This is an exploration game mixed with relationship development! Explore the hotel, avoid death, find collectibles and talk to the Hotel Cast to learn more about them and unlocking new rooms and guests. Fulfill character request, learn their secrets and get them to like you (?) and forgive you. (Yeah, you heard right).

See that GREY HEART? Get the characters from grey, to blue, green, yellow and RED and unlock their friendship.

Will there be romance in the game?

Romance is a Patreon Support Tier. We are not selling the game, it will be free! But we need support to create it and keep working on it, so, we will have support tiers that will unlock cool features, like romance and more!

Also: Romance will not be forced as a "MAX LEVEL" relationship, you should be able to choose between romance and further your friendship!

How many possible relationships will there be?

All we can get. For now, Adam can have his little harem like:

Angel, Alastor, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer, Nifty, Vaggie.

There are some more characters there that for now are NPC only. But might get their own heart in the future. And we plan to add more characters to the hotel, like Lute, Pentious, Mammon...etc. Again, if we get the support.

(Also, we include all ships, except maybe Cain.)

Will there be mini-games?

Yes. Support tiers. We are thinking cooking mini-game, drinking...?

I dunno, Adam likes it tough.

He can also take a relaxing bath!

When will the game be ready?

The beta is under development! So, we hope soon. (And I say we but its all a one person effort, so be patient, haha!)

Where can I support the making of the game?

Here on patreon! Thank you very much! =D Hope you all enjoy my content! If you have a question just ask!

Estará el juego en español también?

Si, el juego contara con idioma español.

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

Patreon Support Tiers:

The more monthly support we get, the more extras we can work on!

Collectibles System (Collect stuff to unlock prizes)

Friendship System (Befriend the cast up to "Friends")

Trophies/Achievements (Unlock cool trophies for Adam's room)

Extra Room: Bathhouse (Make Adam take a relaxing bath)

Bathhouse System (Make Adam take a bath with others)

Regrets System. (Be hunted by the shadows of your past, who will try to kill you on sight!)

Kitchen (Give Adam a place to cook food for others!)

Crafting System (Craft gifts and stuff for Adam’s room)

[cevansbrat0007]

The Slam

Summary: Ari has had a enough of your TikTok foolishness...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, Prank Foolishness, References to P in V sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Now that you’ve gotten your first TikTok prank under your belt, you found you needed more. It was as if a beast – for lack of better phrasing – had been awoken inside of you. And it demanded that you served the world chaos.

At your man’s expense.

While you’d gone a little bigger the first time around, today you’d decided to dial it back just a touch. Lately you’d been watching videos of women slamming their boyfriend’s and husband’s car door after what seemed to be the most innocent of conversations. 

In retaliation, some of them yelled confused obscenities, or honked horns, others simply appeared content to stew in whatever resentment had already been brewing beneath the surface. 

Regardless, almost all of them were funny. And not only that, but you got the distinct feeling that Ari wouldn’t appreciate it. His truck was precious to him. 

Almost as precious as you. 

This morning you choose to test your luck when Ari is kind enough to drop you by your place so that you can switch out purses and grab your makeup bag before heading out for lunch. You can tell that he doesn’t fully understand the reason you need either of those things. 

In fact, when you told him what you needed, he’d been swift to grunt something to the effect of how you already looked “perfectly good to him as it was”. And although it had made the butterflies in your belly do their special little flutter that was reserved for when you received compliments just from him, you pushed him to make the stop anyway.

In part because you needed those things, but also because you wanted to fuck with him a bit.

“I promise I’ll be super quick.” You tell him, hastily undoing your seatbelt as he pulls up in your driveway. 

“Still don’t get why you needed to come here.” Your bounty hunter was hungry, and therefore also a little grumpy. “You’re already the prettiest little thing I’ve ever set my eyes on without all the extra froufrou shit.”

“You would really have me walk into a restaurant with you with a bare face?”

“Baby, real talk, I’d be proud to have you on my arm if you were wearing nothing but a paper bag.” Comes his quiet, but sincere rebuttal. 

It’s enough to make you melt.

 “You’re sweet.” 

“Uh huh.” He huffs, throwing his truck in park. “And women are weird. Besides, all that makeup looks better on my pillow anyway.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to call us weird. Could’ve sworn you were supposed to be intrigued by the feminine mystique.” You tell him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.

“Weird.” Ari huffs again, clearly not moved by your response.  

“Mystique – you jerk.” Feeling slightly miffed, you decide to steal a sip of his water. 

“Can you please just go get the bag and war paint before I waste away from hunger?” You bat his hand away when he leans forward to open your door and usher you out his vehicle. “My stomach is literally trying to eat itself and you wanna fuckin’ argue.” 

“I am capable of opening it myself, thank you very much.” You hiss without any real heat before grabbing the handle.   

“Then I would very much appreciate it if you did that so we can get this show on the road.”

“Okay, okay.” You finally relent. “I’m sorry. Gimme a kiss and I’ll go–”

Ari’s mouth is on yours so fast it’s almost comical. He cups your face with calloused hands, stroking his thumbs across your temples as he does. But unfortunately, just as you’re about to sink into the kiss, he pulls away.

“Now get.” He growls, before opening the door and effectively shooing you out. 

“Fine.” Climbing out of his truck, you decide that this is your moment. “Be right back.” Closing your eyes, you give it up to the Lord before slamming Ari’s door hard. 

Actually a little harder than you intended. Ah, well. 

Grimacing, you begin to half walk, half run for your front door. After all, there was such a thing as being too brave for this world. And you’d actually felt his vehicle rattle with the force with which you’d put behind it. There was no way this man would not respond. There was no way–

“Aye!” Your shoulders automatically hunch of their own volition when you hear him throw open his own door in protest. You haven’t even made it to the front porch. ”The hell was that about?”

“What?” You try to play dumb.

“Bird. Stop.” 

It’s the calm authority in his voice that has you freezing in your tracks. It’s the same reason your panties are soaked too. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you turn around and face Ari.

“What–”

“I’m gonna need you to walk your pretty little ass back over here, baby.” He quirks a tawny brow when your legs don’t immediately start moving. “Now.”    

“Beast, I need to go inside and–”

“Ass. Here. Now. Please.” Ari tacks on the last word when he sees you frown. However, the frown stays in place as you march back over to where he’s standing, or now leaning, against the side of his truck.

“Thank you.” He grunts before cupping your cheek, drawing you forward. “Now, is there a reason you’re out here slammin’ my shit and spikin’ my blood pressure? Does this have somethin’ to do with that whole feminine mystique business again?”

As he talks, you find it hard to resist the urge to run your fingers through his newly shorn beard. You’d hung out in the bathroom with him this morning while he trimmed it, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his shirts. 

“No.” You breathe, your nostrils flaring when that same hand moves, gently lacing itself around your throat.

“You pissed at me for somethin’?” His electric blue eyes search yours for answers.

“Um…nope.” 

“You tryin’ to pick a fight?”

“Also no.” You tell him as your hand comes up to wrap around his thick wrist. “It was a joke I saw on TikTok and–.”

“Christ, I’m gonna stop you.” Ari blinks twice before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Since you and I don’t have a problem, I’m gonna let you go inside and fetch your things. You have five minutes, or I’m comin’ in after you.”

“To do what?” You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. Sometimes this man really had no sense of humor. “Because I‘m gonna need more time than that to put on my face.”

The look this man gives you lets you know that you are absolutely trying his patience – every last piece of it. 

“You got five minutes.” Ari repeats, his thumb stroking over your pulse point. “Or I’m gonna come in there and personally take my time making sure all that makeup ends up in its proper place where it belongs.” 

“But that’s not fair!”

“Neither is subjecting me to shit you see on that damned hickory dickory dock crap you watch all the time, and yet here we are.” He leans down to brush his lips against your forehead. “Now go.”

Ari finally releases you before pulling out his phone, and it takes him only a second for him to show it to you, letting you see that he’s started a timer. And it is quickly counting down. 

“You got five minutes, sweetheart.” He winks at you then, before breaking into full blown laughter when you turn to make a break for your front door. “Otherwise I’m comin’ in after you, and it’s gonna be what it’s gonna be.” 

Forget the purse. You decide you’re better off snagging the makeup and beating it back to the truck before the timer strikes zero.   

“Bastard.” You grumble under your breath – which only makes him laugh harder.

“You just lost yourself thirty seconds for that one. Better run, Bird.” 

END

Unofficial Tag List

@katymae12344 @identity2212 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @blackhawkfanatic @jamneuromain @queerqueenlynn @pono-pura-vida @daykrisr999 @jamneuromain @ninacutebee16 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @emerald-writes @gh0stgurl @blogbog710 @sincerelytlh

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (1)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I posted this yesterday but I wanted to change a few things so I deleted it and now I’m posting it again lol it’s long but I still hope people like it!

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 1) — MEET YN

liked by bestfriend, yourbrother, and 60 others 

yourinstagram here’s to a new year and new beginnings :)

view all 6 comments

bestfriend love youuuu  bestfriend im so happy to have you back!! 

↳ yourinstagram pls don’t let me choose a bf ever again ↳ bestfriend don’t worry. single squad for life ↳ bestfriend or until one of us gets married lol  ↳ yourinstagram 😂 love you!!

Jan 5, 2021 • 

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liked by bestfriend, yourbrother, and 75 others 

yourinstagram can you believe just three months ago this gal was heartbroken, unemployed, and out of dreams? guess the world reallyyyyy spins around, huh 😜

view all 8 comments

bestfriend yes it doesss  bestfriend now the universe is giving back what she deservessssss yourbrother i think i liked you better when you had no social life

↳ yourinstagram 😂 omg fuck off ↳ yourbrother if this is the language you use around my children i’m never letting you babysit again ↳ yourinstagram 😔 stop that’s not funny

Feb 10, 2021 •

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liked by sisterinlaw, bestfriend, and 60 others 

yourinstagram got myself a camera and a dream (plus an empty bank account)

view all 7 comments 

yourmom Are you OK? Do you need money? x

↳ yourinstagram im okay mom :) love you ↳ yourbrother my bank account is empty too

bestfriend can’t wait to be your +1 at the academy awards 

Feb 26, 2021 •

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liked by yourbrother, bestfriend, and 85 others 

yourinstagram step aside pls your girl just posted her first video on youtube and is now one step closer from becoming a filmmaker ✌🏻

view all 13 comments 

bestfriend THAT’S MY BESTIE sisterinlaw Loved it!! 💋 yourmom I miss you. Give me a call x yourmom Also you should post pictures of your face x

↳ yourinstagram 😂💗

childhoodfriend Nice to see you still love telling stories, haha great video!

↳ yourinstagram oh my gosh it’s been a while! 🥺 thank youuu let’s catch up soon  

Mar 19, 2021 •

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liked by yourbrother, bestfriend, and 167 others 

yourinstagram life lately

view all 23 comments 

user1 just watched your video on youtube about growing up and i’m in tears! you’re soooo talented

↳ yourinstagram omg that’s so sweet thank you so much :’) 

yourbrother why bothering buying a camera if you’re going to steal mine

↳ yourinstagram i didn’t steal it  ↳ yourbrother but you also didn’t give it back yet did you? 

user2 Loving your content!!

April 10, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, anotherfriend, and 319 others 

yourinstagram hellooooo i just posted another video :D even tho she’s not physically in it, i must admit our 20+ years together completely inspired this one. thank you for being there for me. i’m very lucky to call you my best friend and i love you 💗 hope you enjoy it!

view all 25 comments 

bestfriend i cant rn i’ll be back when i stop crying user1 amazing!!! another great video! loved everything about it, left me thinking and wondering about lots of things. i’m blown away by how talented you are.

↳ yourinstagram you’re so sweet 🥺 thank you, it means more than you can imagine!

yourmom Lovely girls 🥰 user3 This was my favorite so far!

April 21, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 512 others 

yourinstagram got my first paycheck and went out shopping 

(ps: remember when my ex freaked out bc he didn’t want me to buy harrys album? lol here’s to you pal) (fine line you’ll be next i promise!)

view all 57 comments 

bestfriend harry styles album listening party tonight

↳ yourinstagram as if we don’t already listen to it everyday lol 

user1 you’re so real for this lol user1 also wtf? why didn’t he want you to buy the album? 

↳ yourinstagram bc he was jealous and insecure  ↳ bestfriend jealous that you’d bump into harry someday, mention you bought his album and he’d fall in love with you  ↳ yourinstagram lol talk about delusional  ↳ bestfriend he just knew your potential ↳ user1 😂😂😂

yourbrother so YOU are the reason why my daughter is suddenly obsessed? user5 Omg didn’t know you’re also a harry fan! What’s your favorite song?

↳ yourinstagram sign of the times always and forever

May 6, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, yourmom and 750 others 

yourinstagram just me and my little camera conquering the world ❤️ lol no but srsly, i know it’s only been a month since i posted my first video on youtube but so far ive had suchhhh a great time working hard to make my dreams come true :’) i sometimes fear my content isn’t much or isn’t professional enough, so the feedback i’ve been getting truly warms my heart and puts a smile on my face! thank you. thank you. thank you.

view all 86 comments 

bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ yourbrother why are you still living in 2020? 

↳ yourinstagram why are you so annoying?

yourmom We’re very proud sweetheart x

↳ yourinstagram wouldn’t have done anything without your support! love you ❤️

user1 your content is AMAZING! the way you bring little stories to each video has me obsessed 

↳ yourinstagram i love telling stories so much!! im happy you enjoy them! 

user3 Honestly you’re one of the most creative people I’ve come across lately. The way you approach each topic with so much honesty and tell real life stories while not really including people in your shots is incredible!

↳ yourinstagram omg thank you so so much! this means the world me! 

May 6, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 910 others 

yourinstagram hiii i just posted a new video on youtube and im really nervous about it lol this is really different from the others + a little longer, but also the most special so far. it includes a very memorable moment we lived as a family just a couple weeks ago so i trulyyyy hope you enjoy it! lmk your thoughts plssss

view all 103 comments 

user1 i just sent this video to everyone i know. i feel like i say this every time but this one is my favorite yet!! you’re so talented i want to live inside your brain

↳ yourinstagram hahahha you’re the best thank you sooooo much for your constant support!

bestfriend ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS WAS MY FAVORITE ONE SO FAR  bestfriend pls take me to a concert and make a short film of me dancing to my favorite songs too 😭 i beg you!!!!

↳ yourinstagram let’s do it! ed sheeran? beyonce? harry styles? ↳ bestfriend YES ↳ yourinstagram yes it’s not an answer lol you were supposed to pick one 

user8 👏👏👏 you’ve outdone yourself with this one!  user4 You’re so real about this one! My mom LOVES Shania Twain too and the day she saw her live for the first time was exactly like this! She just turned into a fangirl all over again haha 

May 27, 2021 •

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user2 Hey there. I’m so happy youtube just recommended this to me. I’m in love with your content! So creative and touching. I’m definitely going back to binge all your other videos now. I was just wondering, though, is this your real family? I’m only asking because from the way you tell the story it feels so much like watching a movie that it made me wonder if they were actors following a script 😅 hope you don’t take it the wrong way. Have a good one!

↳ youryoutube hiii thank you so much for watching and for being so respectful and polite about your comment! 😊 this is my own family, yes! i actually wasn’t planning on filming this, but my brother and i took my mom to see shania twain (who’s like, her favorite artist of all times!) and i woke up inspired to make a little video about it. i’m really glad you enjoyed it, and i’m actually really flattered by your question, because this was the first time i didn’t script a video at all and was really afraid in the end it wouldn’t come up the way i wanted to. so thank you!!  ↳ user2 Oh, wow! Thanks so much for taking the time to answer me. That’s really interesting to know. Loved how you managed to capture the emotions without actually exposing anyone. I also enjoyed how this isn’t just a “vlog”, if that makes sense. It truly feels like an actual story with beginning, middle and end (I mean, there’s even some drama in it!). So cheers to you! Can’t wait to see what else you’ll come up with in the future.  ↳ youryoutube THANK YOU! oh my goodness that’s exactly what i’m always going for :’) thank you, thank you!! 

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liked by bestfriend, yourbrother and 3,614 others 

yourinstagram hello????? i just woke up to the news that the one and only queen and goddess shania twain watched my video????? and shared it?????? what the hell it’s happening????? 

view all 245 comments 

yourbrother thought you were going to expose mom losing it on our gc haha bestfriend I’M COMING OVER WE’RE FUCKING CELEBRATING user1 😍😍😍 yesssss love to see you getting bigger and bigger!! user18 omg that video was so cute!! also love your aesthetic user14 your mom’s excitement was the sweetest it left me in tears  harryfan say 🙋‍♀️ if you’re here because gemma shared her video

↳ harryfan2 🙋‍♀️ ↳ harryfan3 🙋‍♀️

Jun 1, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, anotherfriend and 5,875 others 

yourinstagram good morning?? is life even real?? 

last week was sooo insane omg im still over the moon and also so happy reading everyone’s reaction to my mom’s dream coming true 🥺 everyone’s just so sweet and kind! thank you!! i wish i could spend the entire day around just chatting and celebrating, but today is a big and busy day for me so wish me luck im really gonna need it 

view all 541 comments 

bestfriend remember there was a time when i used to be the first and only to like your posts? :’) user1 good luck!! user4 Can’t wait for your next video! user9 I THINK I JUST HEARD YOUR INTERVIEW ON THE RADIO??

↳ user10 Yesss. I was driving to work and I heard that too haha ↳ user3 omg what did she talk about? ↳ user9 ＠user3 they were basically asking about the video/her mom. she explained that it was a really spontaneous thing and that she wasn’t planning on doing more of those but after seeing everyone’s reaction she’s changing her mind. oh, she also mentioned she never expected shania to see her video and that she still doesn’t know how it got to her in the first place!

Jun 8, 2021 •

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liked by anotherfriend, cuteguy and 6,513 others 

yourinstagram quick life update: got a part-time job. moved to a new apartment. completed my harry styles album collection. went on a date with a cute guy. posted another video. 

so far no complaints. 300/10.

view all 617 comments 

bestfriend can’t believe ‘went out for dinner with my best friend’ didn’t make the cut 

↳ yourinstagram sorry that’s bts content

user5 Your last video was amazing!! So were the last two before that!! Totally feel like you found yourself in the music field 

↳ user1 omg i totally agree! i can totally see this becoming a series or something like this ↳ yourinstagram ohhhh i love the idea!! :) 

harryfan any chance this cute guy was harry styles himself?

↳ yourinstagram 😂😂😂 minus 100% chances 

user3 Is this part time job film related maybe?

↳ yourinstagram i wish :( needed a normal part time job to pay for my dream job actually lol

harryfan2 omg which one of his albums did you get?

↳ user5 she already has self titled so she must’ve gotten fine line now

June 25, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy and 8,315 others 

yourinstagram sorry i havent been here the past few days but i was busy playing hide and seek with my niblings (i just found out there’s a word for niece + nephew btw. how cool is that?!!)

view all 732 comments 

harryfan girl tell me why i came here to watch one video and never left? :’) 

↳ user1 lol same!! she’s great isn’t she?

yourbrother i hope you know you’ll be the one buying your goddaughter a ticket for that harry styles boy

↳ harryfan2 “that harry styles boy” lol excuse me sir? ↳ yourinstagram you’re about to get soooooo dragged and all im gonna do is sit here and watch lol ↳ sisterinlaw I’m sitting here, too!!

user4 your posts always brighten up my day 😍

July 3, 2021 •

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liked by cuteguy, yourmom and 11,798 others 

yourinstagram i can’t believe there are so many people watching me post stuff like this lol i don’t really know how to behave and i get easily embarrassed so if you don’t mind i’ll just pretend we are no more than 5 friends just hanging out okay? thanks!!

btw wanted to share that we took my niece to see ariana grande so…… guess what??? new video will be up tomorrow :D this one is once again a little bit different from the others idk im always trying new things so let’s see if it works!! 

view all 931 comments 

cuteguy 😍 bestfriend when is it going to be my turn? :(( user3 omg can’t wait!!! will we finally get to meet your niece??

↳ yourinstagram nooo:( i don’t feel comfortable sharing them on the internet. that’s also why you’ll see this video is kinda from a parents perspective? idk how to explain with words you gotta watch it to see it haha ↳ user2 we love a respectful and mindful woman 💪

harryfan can’t wait for the day you see harry omg i just know that will be the best video ever

↳ harryfan3 right like so many fandoms have been getting these incredible videos i’m so jealous

July 12, 2021 •

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liked by yourinstagram, bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 4,339,032 others

harrystyles LOVE ON TOUR will be going out across the USA this September and I could not be more excited for these shows. I love you all so much. I’m very excited, and I can’t wait to see you. H

view all 100,888 comments 

bestfriend ＠yourinstagram 🤭 harryfan ＠yourinstagram THIS IS IT DO YOUR THING PLS I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT user2 OMG ARE WE FINALLY GETTING A SHORT MOVIE??? SAY YES PLS OMG ＠yourinstagram user7 i feel like if yn doesn’t take ＠bestfriend to at least one show there will be blood 😂

↳ bestfriend ＠yourinstagram see? everyone knows it should happen ↳ yourinstagram ＠bestfriend STOP WE’RE SO FUCKING DOING THIS ↳ harryfan AIDHASASJDBAJHAJH I’M SO EXCITD

July 14, 2021 •

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liked by cuteguy, anotherfriend and 14,513 others 

yourinstagram had a reallyyyyy huge meeting today and i was losing my shit so this really cute guy took me out for a coffee :D 

(new video’s up!!! hope you enjoy it!)

view all 1,007 comments 

user4 are you guys sharing a piece of cake? stop that’s so sweet :(  user8 omg she has a bf?? but what about harry?? lol

↳ harryfan7 THAT’S WHAT I SAID!! she was supposed to go to his show so he could see her in the crowd and fall in love 😩 ↳ harryfan12 lol please harry doesn’t even know who she is. also maybe don’t be disrespectful to the guy she’s actually dating? ↳ user8 ＠harryfan12 it was just a choke chill out lol

user1 can’t wait for the new video!!! (also… important meeting??? 👀)

July 29, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, mollyjane_x, cuteguy and 17,283 others 

yourinstagram i dont think you guys will ever understand how much you watching and spreading the word about my videos has changed my life. it hasnt been even even six months since i started posting on youtube and yet it feels like i’ve lived four years so far. thank you soooo much for deciding to join this ride with me!

also, so much is happening rn that i feel like i need to sort some things out and reorganize myself. so there’ll be a new video up tonight, and then i’ll be taking a short break before releasing any new content. it won’t be long, just a couple of weeks that will mostly be used to feed my creativity once again lol (and also to plan and script some exciting new projects!!) 

i hope you stay around and wait for me. i’ll see you back really soon 💗

view all 1,345 comments 

sisterinlaw 💗 user1 take all the time we need we’ll be here waiting for you!! <3 user3 you deserve all this sooo much!! harryfan7 i see you molly 👀

↳ harryfan11 no bc how are you even a harry fan and don’t absolutely freak out when harry’s creative director likes your post?? ↳ harryfan8 also his manager following her??? i mean what are the chances of being just a coincidence? 

bestfriend i love youuu and i’m so freaking proud of you 💗 user4 I’ll miss your content because it always puts a smile on my face, but I totally understand and can’t wait to see what’s next!

Aug 13, 2021 •

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liked by cuteguy, mollyjane_x, gemmastyles and 19,107 others 

yourinstagram so……. i kinda quit my part time job to start this other full time job? which is now finally related to something i truly love?? 😅 oh god!! i dont even know what to say. all i know is that im about to start the craziest adventure of my life and even tho im about to board the plane i still cant believe it is ACTUALLY happening. again, thank you so much for spreading the word about my videos and for being so kind about them. thank you for deciding i was worth your time every week. im only here right now bc you gave me the chance in the first place so thank you thank you thank you! 

i’ll share more details as soon as i can (and when i’m sure i wont jinx it lol) but for now, THANK YOU!

view all 1,501 comments 

cuteguy have fun, call me when you land 😘 harryfan you’re going to the LOT and nobody can convince me otherwise!!

↳ user4 why wouldn’t she just say it, tho? ↳ harryfan idk she normally never shares she’s going to a show anyway she just posts the video later 🤷 

harryfan8 the fact that molly and jeff followed her and now molly likes all of her posts can’t be random. also she quitting her job and traveling the same day so many from harry’s crew are traveling? 

↳ harryfan2 AND GEMMA LIKING THIS POST? WHY IS PEOPLE SILENT ABOUT THIS?????

harryfan7 gemma liked this post but she doesn’t even follow her??? bestfriend i miss you already can’t wait to visit you!! user1 im so excited whatever it is you deserve it so much!!!!

Aug 25, 2021 •

— — — — — 

PART 2: LAS VEGAS

— — — — —

I’m not hopeful people will read and enjoy this, but if you happen to do so pls let me know? :( thanks!!

[sandwhitches]

Hello! For you summer writing event, may I request a cherry popsicle with sakusa, osamu and kuroo and falling asleep on their shoulder on a bus/train?

a/n: one of my favorite tropes hehehe. thanks for requesting and enjoy!!

genre: fluff

content: gn. reader, all of them are pining messes

wc: 676

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

Sakusa wonders how he’s managed to amass such a crush on you, impossible to ignore, it slowly eats away at his sanity with each time he sees your face but can’t kiss it. But this? This takes the cake. How long can a person go without needing to breathe? Kiyoomi asks himself that as he tenses under an unexpected weight on his shoulder, his lungs have suddenly forgotten what they were made for it seems. 

Cautiously, his eyes dart down to affirm what he already knows. Your face has never looked easier to kiss all over than it does now, peaceful with the slumber he’s been watching you trying to stave off since getting on the train.

Now you’ve done it, you’re killing him without even needing to be conscious to do so, nothing less of what he’d expect given how he’s been head over heels in silence for too long. 

Swallowing thickly, Kiyoomi makes an effort to lower his shoulders a bit, hoping you won’t wake with a sore neck. This can be okay, he thinks, he may very well die like this if he can’t figure out how to breathe, and maybe he won’t be so upset about whatever happens as long as you stay close to him like you are now. 

𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

“Isn’t yer stop comin’-” Osamu’s breath catches in his throat as he’s interrupted by the foreign feeling of your warm body pressed up against his. You can’t possibly be asleep, can you? He can practically hear his own heartbeat as his eyes are met with the most beautiful sight he’s sure he’ll ever get the privilege to see.

Your upcoming stop is now long lost on Osamu, who has since leaned his head gently atop yours, trying to time his breaths with the rise and fall of your own chest. If he could choose one moment to stay in forever, this might be the one, he thinks.

A nervous hand drapes over the one you’d planted on his knee in a half-asleep haze, roughened fingers brush over the soft back of your palm, and Osamu is asking himself what good deed he’s done in his life to deserve this. 

There's a taste of something new on his tongue, the sugary weight of words he wishes to shower you in: confessions, secrets, desires. It’s funny, and his opinion, a bit pathetic, that this is all it takes for him to start dreaming so ardently over the rest of your lives.

In that moment, Osamu feels as if the only reason he was put on this earth was for you to lean on like you are now, for him to do anything in his power to spark even the smallest of joys in your heart. 

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

It’s an absolute mystery to Kuroo how you can manage to doze off like this on such a crowded train. Squeezed into a tight corner at the end, he’s beginning to lose his mind over the fact that he can hear the airy breaths you let out so slowly.

While he’s still grappling with the fact that you’ve fallen asleep, he’s also trying to ignore that it feels like he’s going to pass out when your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

How can he be cool about this? Kuroo can just barely bolster the wave of nerves he gets when being with you as it is, but this is impossible for him. He cringes at the warmth that spreads across his cheeks, undeniably tinting the apples a blushy red, and he knows it’s obvious to just about anyone on the train who looks his way that he’s suffocating on the dizzying sensation of love. 

The worst part about this? It’s going to be impossible for him to keep his feelings stifled under the guise of camaraderie for any much longer. Now that he knows what it is like to have you so close to him, it’s clear that he wants that as much as he possibly can. Kuroo was doomed from the very start, wasn’t he?

[penkura]

No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

[astarionancuntnin]

Hyello! I don’t know if you do requests but I thought I’d ask so the request is that x reader is honestly pretty badass and Astarion does something that pisses her off and so she barges into his tent after a long day to tell him off and fight him but decides that amidst the anger there is also hunger and decides theres a a way he can make it up to her and smutty content insues, preferably very like animalistic?? think closer by nine inch nails lol i do like the idea that they're both fighting for dominance in the interaction, you choose which one wins lol hope I’m not bothering you

did i listen to closer on repeat to bring you this? perhaps

and i never really put it out there, but hell yeah im taking requests! thank you for being my first <3

(also thank you for your patience i was heavily focused on my last chapters for die for you before approaching this ask and then it really went overboard LMAO you said "animalistic" and i took it literally, i hope you enjoy!)

Run, Little Fox

pairing: astarion x reader!ranger!tav

rating: E

word count: 5.1k

cw: 18+. smut, biblicaly accurate Astarion primal!astarion, predator/prey, knife play (if you squint), rivals/hate sex, mildly dubious consent, fighting for dominance, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, very slight somnophilia (but id rather mention it, never too safe)

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

That’s it. 

That was once too many.

This brat of a rogue had gotten on your nerves more times than you could recall, and today you decided you had enough. Your group trusted and respected your position as their leader, a brave and cunning ranger whose decisions everyone agreed with — as they were for the greater good — so why couldn’t he do the same? It wasn’t enough that he questioned your every move in front of everyone else, no, he grew bored of you ignoring his remarks. He just had to act on his impulses and get you in trouble this time. 

You had intended on getting information out of a group of adventurers, when he had tried to pickpocket them in the middle of your discussion, and when he got caught, things obviously went south. You tried to talk things down, but they wouldn’t hear it. One thing led to another and next thing you know, they laid in a pool of their own blood and you stood with no more information than you started with. All of it, because of him, and he had the gall to say it was your own fault for not defusing the situation better. Really?!

The stress of this adventure — the impending doom that those tadpoles in your brains were — was already enough weight on your shoulders, you didn’t want to deal with Astarion’s trickery on top of it anymore. No — you couldn’t. You had enough of his unnerving attitude; enough of his shameless flirting when it was clear you weren’t interested; enough of his impetuous disdain and insolence that matched your own. Tonight, you would set the record right.

Once back at camp after this horrendous, unending day by his side, the first thing you do after dropping your loot and equipment at your tent, is bolt straight for Astarion’s. 

Still covered in a mix of your sweat, today’s unfortunate souls’ blood — and your own — you burst through the entrance of Astarion’s tent without so much as a warning to find him peacefully laying, with one arm behind his head and the other already flipping through the pages of a book he had found, and most certainly stolen, during today’s stroll.

He barely lifts his head to notice your intrusion, his eyes darting your way, half-lidded. “Looking for a cuddle?” 

The sheer audacity of the smirk he gives you. 

“You—” You fully step into his tent, staring him down with an anger that couldn’t be contained, as you close the flaps behind you, “Have been a pain in my ass for long enough.”

He scoffs, “Darling, we haven’t been close like that yet — unless this is your way of asking?” He closes his book and puts it aside to focus on you, as he rests on his elbows, his taunting smile never leaving his lips. What you wouldn't give to wipe it away from his smug face.

“The last thing I want is you anywhere near me.”

“You see,” he checks his nails, bored. “I have a hard time believing that, dear.”

“Get over yourself.” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed at how well he could annoy you. “What makes you think I want anything to do with you after the commotion you caused today?”

“For one, you came to me, in my tent. If that's not a dead giveaway, I don't know what is,” his eyes dart back to you. “And to further prove that point, you still haven’t left — even though you claim I am the reason for your frustration. Really, it's as if you relished my company after all.”

You open your mouth to contradict him, but your words are left hanging when he gets up, his shirt slightly unbuttoned revealing the lines of his muscles concealed underneath and you can’t help but let your eyes wander longer than you intended, gulping as you do so. He chuckles lightly before he speaks up again.

“Secondly, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face again, and you ask defensively, “Would you rather have me not look at you?”

He gives you a mischievous look as he eyes you up and down, and he meets your gaze with just as much intensity.

“Third, and lastly, I can smell you, darling.”

“I haven't washed yet.”

“You know that isn't what I'm referring to.”

Your heartbeat quickens, as the air seems to draw out of the tent, “Well, whatever you think this is, isn't your doing,” you lie plainly in the hopes he buys it, but his smirk leads you to believe he sees right through it.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself, dearest.” He tilts his head, a long silence settling in between the two of you, with your breathing as the only sound audible in the space of his tent. “Maybe… There's another reason you might be frustrated. That all this, pent up anger building inside, is because of something else that you can’t control.” He closes the distance between the two of you, stopping but a whisper away from your face, and his voice gets lower, deeper. “Something that you would rather not have to deal with, but for some reason just can’t get rid of. Something that just rubs you the wrong way, and is the same reason why you can’t help but want to stay in my presence.” 

You scoff, challenging his gaze, “If that something you’re referring to is you, Astarion, then you’re right — you are the sole reason of my frustration as of late, but I could do without your irritating presence.”

“Oh, but I could make it much more pleasurable.” 

You lean back, and turn your head aside, trying to make some distance between the two of you, ”You give yourself too much credit.”

He slides a finger down your throat, leaving an unexpected shiver in its wake as he exposes your neck, when he pushes your vagabond strands of hair away, before he continues.

“Why don’t you give me a chance to show you exactly what I mean? We would both benefit from this, really; I could fix your predicament, and in exchange, I could receive… a little something from you in return.”

You contemplated the opportunity laid before you for just a second before opting for the reasonable choice. You grab his hand, pulling it away from you and when you speak up again, the anger in your voice is gone, leaving place for your much smoother, yet very assertive tone. “If you want my blood, you’ll have to earn it.”

You release his hand and he keeps it in the air where you left it, cocking his head to the side as he looks at where your hand had held him, “Earn it, you say?”

You nod, “We wouldn’t want you to become soft now, would we?” A smile of your own takes place on your lips. “If I am to be your meal, it’s only fair that you work for it.”

His eyes dart back to yours as a smirk appears on his lips, “I’m all pointy ears.”

“I’ll be hiding in the woods. If you can find and catch me, you get to drink from me. But if I catch you instead, you’re never getting a drop from me.”

He sighs, “That’s hardly a fair proposition, darling.” As you’re about to contradict him, he continues, “Here’s mine instead: if you catch me, fine — I’ll keep chasing boars and whatnot in the woods — but if I catch you…” He leans over the crook of your neck, whispering. “I get to drink from you every. night.”

You grab him by the chin, bringing him face to face with you, “If I catch you, you don’t get to put the party at risk anymore. You will be kicked out of the camp if you do.” If you had to put your vitality on the line, he had to bet something just as valuable.

His fangs glow in the faint lighting of his tent as he smiles. “Deal.”

You drop his chin as he steps back and you notice how something about him seems to be shifting; the pupils of his eyes widen, darkening; his own breathing stops; the hands at his side turning into claws, with his long and sharp nails peaking out, ready to hunt. There was nothing left of the rogue in distress that you picked up a few weeks ago, who could’ve pretended to be nothing more than an innocent, but rather pale, elf. 

When he opens his mouth to speak again, you spy his elongated fangs; much longer than you remember them to be, and his voice—

“Run.”

You don’t lose a second more; the vision of nightmares before you triggered your fight or flight reaction and without your weapons, the choice was clear. You turn around and slide through the flaps of his tent, bolting straight for your tent, where you quickly manage to pick up your trusty dagger and your set of bow and arrows.

Thankfully, everyone else at camp had gone off to bed, so no one notices you as you pick a frantic run towards the deep woods, making distance from the hungry vampire on your tracks. 

The woods are dark, with only the faint light of the moon guiding your tracks. Once far enough, or so you think, you hide behind a tree to control your breathing; you had no intention to lose to this, you needed all the advantages you could get. With your experience as a ranger, you were almost assured to catch him off guard.

Almost.

What you had seen in his tent before sprinting off was like nothing you had ever seen before. Of course, you knew Astarion was a vampire, but this was… different.

Terrifying. 

A beast, straight out of those scary bedtime stories you recall from your childhood; a monster guided by his thirst for flesh and blood, who would show no mercy, no remorse. It was merely enough to make you question this challenge with him, Gods, how embarrassing would it be to lose your life to a stupid game you had initiated purely out of spite?

The rustling of leaves nearby brings you back into focus, the adrenaline in your veins keeping you on edge for any sound. You ready your bow before you peek out of your hiding spot to aim where you heard the sound and wait patiently for another moment, your eyes never leaving the bush right until you hear another crack — right when you release the arrow, your aim striking true as you hear a loud thud. You wait a few more seconds, and when no sound can be heard from the bushes you leave your cover, advancing towards your prey. When you push the branches away, you’re face to face with none other than—

A boar.

Shit. Well — guess you caught your next meal.

Another rustling of leaves has you drawing out your bow again, ready to strike, but you’re unable to tell where it comes from.

“How does it feel, little fox?” You hear him through the woods, his deep and raspy, but unnatural voice almost echoing through you. “To be the one being hunted?”

“I’m hunting you, too, in case you forgot,” you mumble mostly to yourself, not wanting to draw out more attention and telling on your location. 

Although you were confident in your capacities, you couldn’t deny the fear building up in your chest. The unnerving feeling of knowing he was around, knowing he was onto you, but unable to find him through the dense woods, the reminder of what he looked like before you ran for your life, a creature of darkness—

“Keep running, you delicious little thing,” his voice already seems to be coming from somewhere else, where exactly you couldn't tell, as if he was constantly moving and it came from everywhere all at once. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

Damn him. He could be anywhere, it was useless to stay there, out in the open, when he was clearly onto you. Then again, he could also intentionally be pushing you to run, only to lead you into a trap of his, right where he wanted you to be. 

No, you’re smarter than this. You won't let your emotions get in the way of this: you were a hunter, born and raised for this kind of situation.

He is just another prey; you can outsmart him. You are better than him.

You put away your bow and arrows; you know your long range weapons would be of no use to you if you couldn’t see your target. If he’s trying to make you run, he has to be further ahead, so the smart choice would be to go back on your tracks.

You turn on your heels in a heartbeat and start sprinting in the opposite way, not even bothering to look behind you for any sign of him, as you hear the clear rustling of branches around you. At this moment, you know he’s right on your tail, the sounds of the forest barely covering the sound of his own movements between the trees — if that was even him. You assume it is, but who’s not to say it isn’t just another boar? Either way, all you can do now is keep running, hoping he will tire before you.

But you were against a creature of the night, someone — or rather something, now — much more in its element, in the darkness of the woods, than you were. 

You don’t run for long before you stop abruptly in your tracks to change directions, leaving the clear road for the crowded forest, where you think you could lose him.

You're temporarily reassured when you don't hear him anymore, and allow yourself to breathe again. Your heart is pounding in your chest, faster than ever, as the fear of being chased — of your life being on the line — created a warmth within you that pooled right down to your core. The risk of being caught, as for once you’re the prey, and you can’t explain it, but it excites you. Although Astarion had gotten on your every nerve, you had to give it to him — he was right that his unnerving attitude had gotten a rise out of you in the most carnal way — but you’d never admit it to his face.

A good minute passes by with no sign of him, and you feel safe enough to peek out of your hiding spot, investigating the beaten path for any sign of life. When you’re met with a dead silence, you move away from the tree you had been leaning against, only to come face to face with Astarion, who drops from the branches just above you. His eyes are somehow a much deeper shade of red, his pupils fully blown out, and he even seems taller as he smiles down on you, and that’s when you perceive the additional fangs that appeared next to the smaller ones you knew. 

You’re fixated on his sudden presence, assessing your opponent the way you would a wild animal, and you remain unmoving, focused on your own breathing.

“Nowhere left to run, I’m afraid,” the voice that comes out of his mouth is otherworldly, almost a growl and nothing like his sultry voice he used to try and charm you before. It’s as if anything that once made him pass as a mortal was gone the second you ran off from him.

You want to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction, but he's faster than your thoughts. Before you can even move a finger, he grabs you by your neck, his sharp nails digging into your skin enough to draw blood as he pushes you against the nearest tree, slightly lifting you from the ground. Instinctively, you reach for your dagger, but he is fast to catch onto your intentions and takes it away from you, throwing it on the ground far from reach. With no other options left, you reach for his hand around your neck, trying to hold on as your vision blurs from the chokehold he had on you. 

“Caught you, little fox,” he leans into your neck where you bled from to breathe you in, and licks your skin from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw, tasting your sweat mixed with the dry blood left on you. Your camp clothing leaves you dangerously exposed as opposed to your armour, and he had every intention to take advantage of it. “You will make a fine meal indeed.”

He presses his entire body against you, and you can feel not only his oddly cold breath down your neck, but also his hard bulge rubbing against your navel, right above the heat between your legs. 

A particularly bad idea crosses your mind, and you know you’ll blame it on the lack of oxygen later, but for now, it’s the only option you have.

Your hand slides down to his crotch, where you squeeze his length through his trousers, making him shudder against you and loosening his grip on your throat. You take this chance to free yourself as you quickly push him away and against the earthy ground of the forest, pinning him down using your entire body weight. You land right next to your knife and grab it just in time before he comes to his senses, now holding it against his throat.

“I win,” you say, breathless, over him.

You remain unmoving, with the threat of your knife keeping him in place, but unsure what to do next — until he laughs. You’re taken aback, but you keep your position, pressing your blade deeper into his throat.

“Well done.” His voice softens, still deeper than what you’re used to, but less guttural than it was a minute ago. “You have me completely and utterly helpless. What will you do next, I wonder?”

You don’t get to answer before you feel him moving under you, his hardness rubbing against that sweet spot between your legs. Your breathing quickens once again, caught off guard by the delicious movement of his hips against you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

“Fulfilling my part of the bargain, of course.”

“That’s not—” he lifts his hips higher, the tip of his crotch rubbing against your clit, and your body tenses at the contact. He’s rock hard and between your thin camp clothes, it's almost as if you were rubbing skin to skin against each other. A pleasurable shiver running across your spine, and you allow yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, fighting between giving in to your desires or stopping yourself from letting this go any further; it was clear which side of you was winning over, as your hunger for that something more was becoming impossible to ignore. You soften your grip on his wrist and your dagger against his throat, and that’s all he needs to gain back dominance over you, flipping you back under him and seizing your wrists to pin you down the same way you had him only seconds ago.

“Now,” he says, “this is much better, don’t you think?”

“Oh you prick,” you groan, fighting to free yourself from his grip on you, but he only tightens his grasp around your wrists. His immortal strength beats yours and your hand twists under his crushing grip, making you finally release your knife.

You curse under your breath for letting yourself be bested by the most annoying member of your party; the one who you had dreamed to put back in his place was now dominating you instead. A mix of anger and shame swirls in your stomach, along with something else that you want to deny, but can’t for the life of you understand.

Your eyes meet his, dark and hungry and so incredibly close to you. His lack of breath is strange in comparison to yours, so heavy that your chest rises with each breath you take, brushing against him. It wasn't a position you were used to, either, and you find yourself liking it more than you thought you would; with his entire body pining against yours, his legs surrounding yours and keeping them closed together, your wrists held strongly above your head; a prey caught by her predator.

You remain unmoving in this position for what feels like an eternity, until he licks his lips, his eyes falling to the space in your neck that was exposed just for him.

He leans into you, his deep voice shooting a warmth straight to your core. “This little game of yours made me quite hungry.”

You gasp when you feel his bulge rubbing against you once more and touching that sweet spot that made you rub your thighs together. 

“Perhaps,” he whispers, “you've grown an appetite of your own, little fox?”

You take a few breaths, "If you wanna feed, be my guest. You…” you sigh, defeated. “You earned it. Just— be quick about it.”

You turn your head aside, looking away and giving him space to feed, only for him to lean back, “Quick? Oh darling, you’re mistaken if you don’t think I won’t draw this out as long as I possibly can.”

He pushes your wrist up above your head where he can hold them both with one hand, while his other hand slides down to your chest, his sharp nails grazing against the curve of your breast. You close your eyes as his hand continues its journey down your navel, and into your pants, rubbing against the moist spot that kept growing in your panties.

“But don’t worry — I’ll make sure we both get our fill tonight,” he growls.

Your hips move of their own accord, wanting more of him and his touch, almost against your own will.

“Greedy, greedy, little fox.” He flashes a toothy smile, “Can't get enough? I'm not surprised.”

Your eyes open back up and you stare at him, frustrated, “Gods, do you ever shut up?”

“You have such a way with words.” He sighs, pulling his hand out of your pants. “You know, it's a wonder we haven't gotten killed because of your social prowess.”

“If you think you’re so much better than me, why don’t you—”

His lips collide with yours into an hungry kiss, one bold enough to shut you right up. A part of you is disgusted, furious, even, that he would push himself onto you, but your body’s reaction betrays you, as you kiss him back with the same intensity. It’s sloppy, his elongated tongue invading your mouth and rubbing against yours, until he bites into it and sucks, letting your crimson hit his lips. 

You moan as you pull back, rolling your tongue around to feel the puncture he made, and he smiles down on you, his teeth tainted by your blood.

“Ah… delicious.”

Something comes over you, a supernatural strength — almost animalistic — and you flip him back around on his back to take control once again. Your dishevelled hair frames your face over him, and he gets to see you panting, teeth bared, with angry eyes towering over him. There's a flash of surprise in his eyes before they take back their lusty look, and his hands fly to your shirt, ripping it open as his nails tear through the fabric as if it were air. Your shirt is quickly discarded, exposing your skin to the cool night air that raises the hairs on your back.

In the frenzy, you give the same treatment to his shirt, using that strength to destroy his clothing and revealing the very muscles you spied earlier in his tent. He raises himself up to meet you where you sat over his hips, his mouth finding yours  and kissing you feverishly as he did before, while his hands work to remove your pants. 

With a grunt from him, you're pushed back on the harsh forest ground where he rips away your trousers, leaving you only with your panties to cover you. You gasp into his mouth, breathing in his cold breath, when the night air that matches his breath hits the thin fabric of your undergarments. The shock of temperature affects you more than you had anticipated, as you are completely soaked from your arousal that had pooled down there since the beginning of the night. Astarion instantly notices it, and laughs ominously.

“Are you still going to deny it now?” He pushes your underwear aside and slides his dexterous fingers between your folds, discovering just how dire your situation is. “Hells, look at how wet you are, just for me.”

His fingers feel good, and fucking Hells you didn’t want to admit it — he was an absolute asshole — but that ship had sailed a while ago, and now you just wanted to know how good he would feel inside you.

“If you still want to feed, you better do it now before I change my mind,” you groan.

“Change your mind?” He scoffs. “I'm afraid that isn't an option. I won fair and square, little fox; now I get to devour you every night.” He flips you around, the sudden roughness of the earthy floor rubbing against your sensitive nipples making you gasp in surprise. You feel him move behind you, and you're not sure how or when it happened, but he must've removed his own trousers as you feel the ghost of his cock hovering just over your entrance. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest with anticipation, and this feeling goes into your throat when he grabs you by the nape of your hair and pulls you into him, making you arch your back and clearly exposing your neck to him in the process. “Starting tonight.”

Within the same beat, he thrust into you, his hips slamming hard against your skin, and his fangs dive into the crook of your neck, finally taking what is rightfully his.

You cry out at the stabbing pain in your neck, this one much more different than the first time he bit you, as his elongated fangs dive deeper into your neck to draw out more of your life source, and the additional fangs leave more marks into your skin. It hurts and yet, you find your core growing warmer and wetter; between his bite and his reckless thrusting into you, with the added sensation of his initially cool skin getting warm from your blood. His thrusts gain in speed and force, and in that position, there is nothing else you can do but take it.

Even as you try to reach behind you with that last remaining will to have control, to grab his hair and pull him forward, Astarion takes a hold of your arm and pushes back against you, using his entire body weight to hold you firmly against the rough ground, and his hips to slam into your needy, little cunt. With your hair still pulled back, but your wrist now stuck in his grasp, he continues to take his fill of you with no restriction.

“Look at you, finally put in your place,” he growls as he licks up the drops of blood leaking from the fresh wounds in your neck. “Is this what you’ve been desiring all these times your eyes got lost at the sight of my body? What you’ve been dreaming of? To be properly used, like a bitch in heat? Ravaged by a beast?”

You manage to get a few words out between rushed breaths, sneering.

“F— Fuck. Y— You.”

He snickers wickedly, “I guess that answers my question. Don’t worry, pet. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh you—”

“Shh now,” Before you can even finish your sentence, his hand quickly moves from your wrist to your mouth, muffling any sounds coming from you. “We wouldn’t want to risk waking our dear friends, now, would we? Unless that’s what you want?” You groan in the palm of his hand and he chuckles. “You depraved little thing. I’ll give you just what you desire.”

His hand previously holding your hair goes down your body to hold your hips in place as he fucks you, and his teeth sink into your shoulder on the other side of your neck. The gesture meant only to keep you steady as he fucks you senseless. With his fangs deep into your skin, his nails cutting the soft skin of your hips and his dick pounding your abused cunt, you scream into his hand as you reach your climax. It’s nerve wracking, mind shattering, and leaves you completely drained. 

With a final push inside you, Astarion’s hips still and he growls into your neck, taking his last sip of you, as he pulses around your inner walls, filling you up with his warm seed. Your muscles fail you, as your body goes limp against the earthy ground, and you barely feel anything else — leaving you almost unconscious. Behind you, Astarion pulls out of you, and a weak moan escapes you as you feel his load leaking out of you.

While you’re recuperating from this treatment, Astarion loses his monstrous features: his nails retract, his pupils go back to those annoyingly charming red ruby eyes, his fangs retract just enough to fit back into his mouth, and he mimics breathing again; now passing as a mortal again.

With the minimal strength you manage to gain back, you push yourself up, and gather the few pieces of clothes that were shredded during your nightly session; tomorrow you would definitely need to find new camp clothes, these were the only ones you had and they were utterly ruined. Thank the Gods everyone else was fast asleep and you’ll be able to walk back to your tent without any remarks.

As you’re about to take your leave, completely disregarding the rogue who looked just as messy as you were, you hear him clear his throat.

“It’s always a pleasure to be doing business with you, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes before shooting him a glare. “Don’t push your luck.” Your cheeks still flushed, your hair all over the place, and your form barely clothed, making you not as convincing as you had hoped for. 

You only catch a glimpse of his smirk in response to you as you walk away, and when you catch yourself actually looking forward to it, you tell yourself it's only for the opportunity to put him back in his place. 

Perhaps another white lie to coat your true feelings, but no one needed to know about that.

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury @ariajc79 @lets-just-daydream

[pickingupmymercedes]

It always points South - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Around 6 requests have come through with that cardigan and compass tattoo. I love it that you guys know what that tattoo does to me.

It's not a sequel/prequeal but it has the very same motivation I want South

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, (p in v)

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It's not proofread. I don't think I've ever written a smut that fast, but it had to be done, blame Eric and Lewis.

a/n.2: Thanks anon that suggested Y/n using his cardigan for everyone to see, it's chef's kiss at the end.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

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You stretched your back as you sat up on the edge of the king-sized bed, careful not to wake Lewis. The Monaco Grand Prix weekend was always a whirlwind of activity, and today was no different, but normal life was still happening, and you still had meetings to attend and errands to run, leaving Lewis to enjoy a few extra hours of sleep before his media obligations.

You kissed his forehead softly, whispered a quick "I love you" as you watched he stir and hug your pillow before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. Hours passed in a blur of meetings and phone calls. It wasn't until you had a moment to breathe that you checked your phone.

Notifications flooded your screen, all centered around one particular post.

There it was: a photo of Lewis, looking effortlessly cool and undeniably sexy in a sheer blue Dior cardigan, his chiseled chest, familiar compass tattoo on full display and a nostalgic caption that seemingly looked like had been written for any other post.

You couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to Lewis to try and deflect with heartfelt nostalgia and high fashion his own touch of cheekiness.

Without much thoughts, you shot him a quick message: “Babe, that paragraph on your Instagram doesn’t excuse how you’re showing your goodies to everyone in that Dior see-through.”

His reply came almost instantly: “What goodies?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth as you changed the possessive pronouns to tease him. “My compass tattoo”.

The rest of the day passed by in a series of meetings and errands, but your mind kept drifting back to Lewis’s tattoo. You always had a soft spot for it, especially given how you often found yourself choosing "south". You wondered if he thought about it as much as you did.

Later that evening, you were back at the apartment, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing out your hair. You had just slipped into a robe, preparing to shower before the sponsor's party you were both attending.

The door creaked open, and you saw Lewis's reflection in the mirror, leaning against the doorway with a smug grin plastered on his face. “So” he began, his voice low and teasing “your compass tattoo, huh?”

You turned to face him, feeling a flicker of desire in your eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing with that outfit” you teased back, your voice sultry. “You’ve got half the internet drooling over you”

Lewis chuckled, crossing the distance between you in a few strides. “And the other half wondering how I managed to land you” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You laughed, playfully pushing at his chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Hamilton.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. “Is that so?” he murmured; his breath warm against your skin.

You pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. That cardigan was basically nothing”

Lewis’s grin widened. “It’s fashion, love.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your smile gave you away. “You did look incredible.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you melted against him, the day’s stress evaporating in his embrace.

“You know” he said thoughtfully, in between kisses “we don’t have much time until the party.”

You glanced at him, a playful glint in your eye. “I guess it’s a good thing those motorhome quickies have made us pros at time management”

You sneaked out of his embrace, letting your robe slip from your shoulders and fall to the floor as you made your way to the shower. The sight of you, completely naked and inviting, had him mesmerized. He quickly shrugged off his clothes, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading down your body, you gestured for him to join you. “Aren’t you coming?” your voice a sultry whisper. “We’re going to have to multitask.”

Lewis didn’t need another invitation. He stepped into the shower, the heat from the water mingling with the heat between you two. He reached for you, pulling you close against his body, his hands trailing down your back, savoring the feel of your wet skin under his fingertips. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, despite the warmth surrounding you.

“Missed you today,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

He kissed you, deeply and hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth with a mix of urgency and passion. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles and the familiar compass tattoo that had occupied your thoughts all day.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he kissed along your jawline.

“All day,” you admitted, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he nipped at your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and that tattoo.”

“Yeah?” He grinned against your skin, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lifted you slightly, pinning you against the shower wall “What about it?”

“How it always points south” you said with a smirk, wrapping one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. “Good thing south’s my favorite direction.”

He adjusted his position, one hand braced against the wall, the other guiding himself to you. When he entered you, the stretch was as overwhelming as ever, a mix of pleasure and urgency that left you breathless. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move.

“Love, you feel amazing” he groaned, setting a fast, intense rhythm. “So tight, so perfect.”

“Just like that, Lewis.” you breathed, your voice hitching with every thrust.

He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as his pace increased, each movement driving deeper, harder. The water pounded against your skin, mingling with the heat of your bodies, creating your own sauna in the shower cabin.

“Do you like it when I wear things like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “Showing off for everyone?”

“Maybe,” you teased, your hands tangling in his wet muscles. “But only because I know you’re mine at the end of the day.”

“Always” he murmured, his voice full of promise. “Only yours.”

You clung to him, your body arching into his with every movement. You moaned in tandem with his thrusts, your sounds a desperate plea as you felt yourself nearing the edge. He growled in response; his pace relentless. “Come for me, babe” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me feel you.”

The tension coiled tightly within you finally snapped with his pleas and you came undone around him. “Lew” you cried out, your nails digging into any skin you could find.

“That’s my girl” he groaned, following moments later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself inside you. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

Breathless and sated, you stayed wrapped around each other for a few moments, savoring the closeness, breathing into each other. The water raining down on you, washing away the evidence of your passion, but never the memory.

When Lewis finally set you down gently, his hands lingered on your hips. “We really are pros at time management” he said with a breathless laugh. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “We should get ready before we’re late.”

He nodded, stepping back to give you space, though his eyes remained locked on you, filled with admiration and desire as you finished showering. “Can’t wait to see you in that dress,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

As you stepped out, you caught sight of Lewis toweling off, his muscles flexing with each movement. The sight giving you a renewed wave of desire, suffocated on the knowledge that there wasn’t time for another round.

As you finished your hair and makeup, you started to apply lotion to your skin, aware you got that Lewis watched you from the corner of his eye, his gaze appreciative and heated. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never make it to the party,” you teased, slipping into your dress.

He chuckled, fastening the buttons of his shirt. “Trust me, I’m tempted.”

The white linen dress you’d chosen clung to your curves in all the right places, you turned to Lewis, giving him a twirl. “What do you think?” His eyes darkened with lust and admiration. “You look absolutely stunning”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror a thought popped up, and the glint in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed as he watched you reached for his bags by the bed.

“Would you mind if I borrowed that?” You muttered already adjusting the blue see-through cardigan over your dress, his eyes sparkling with lust at seeing you wearing his clothes for the world to see.

“Love, everyone’s going to be looking at you tonight and I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He whispered as he checked your reflection in the mirror, arms wrapping around your waist.

You turned into his embrace, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ll just have to be patient, won’t we?” He held your gaze, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he kissed just below your ears “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[sydnikov]

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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