#the 3k requests are not forgotten!!!

[ghost-proofbaby]

i want everyone to know i was so brave today and that the words worded. hour 16 is nearly finished (i know that’s what you all will probably be most happy to hear)

BUT i also got a huge chunk of a few requests done plus had enough motivation to write some more on two wips for myself mainly 🥺 really felt good on the soul truly anyways

sorry byyyeee retreating back into my cave now!!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!

I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.

Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.

word count - 3k

authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3

masterlist. inbox.

The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.

“Hello?”

You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.

“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.

“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”

“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”

“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”

“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”

You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.

“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”

“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.

“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.

“I’ll put some shoes on.”

“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”

You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.

“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”

“I will.”

I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.

The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.

You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.

Almost.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.

You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.

You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.

Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.

His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.

“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.

“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”

He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”

“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”

It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.

“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.

“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.

“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”

He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.

“Do ya want to?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”

You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”

“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.

“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”

“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”

He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”

“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”

“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.

“Declan.”

“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”

You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.

“You should break things off.”

He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.

“What?”

“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”

Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.

“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.

“Because I love you.”

Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.

“You-”

“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”

There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.

“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”

All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.

“Declan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.

“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.

“C’mere.”

Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.

“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.

“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”

You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”

“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”

You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.

“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”

You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.

You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.

“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”

You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”

All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.

“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”

He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.

“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”

You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.

“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”

You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.

“Declan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.

“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.

“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”

He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.

Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.

The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.

“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”

He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.

The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.

“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”

You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.

You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.

You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.

Rupert Campbell Black.

He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.

You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.

Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.

“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”

@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles

as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3

[grugruel]

Not sure if this is where we can send in requests but you write so beautifully I truly cannot get over it.

Would it be possible to request a smut fic with Viktor from Arcane? Either way cannot wait to read your next fics 🩵

You really found the way to my heart with your kind words because I immediately had to write something for you🥹 I intended for it to be shorter, but it got away from me. I hope you like it!

Keeping Him Company

Pairings: Viktor x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Viktor is still getting used to solitude after Jayce started down the public road.

So when you offer to keep him company, he gladly takes you up on it.

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: fluff, angst ish, friends to lovers, pinv sex, cowgirl, oral sex (f receiving), feelings, plot with porn.

AN: Viktor is not a shy man, and I will die on that hill😭

"Dont you wish to be up there with him?"

Light spilled through a gap in the tall curtains, partly illuminating a man in hiding.

"It is not my within my talent," he said and slanted his lips, a thick accent curving his pronunciation.

The girl approached him, walking along the shadows edge. She was clad in a red and white ensamble, mirroring his own. "Everything is within your talent."

Casting a wistful glance at his leg, he doubted her words. "A simple misscalculation, im afraid. He shines, I do not . . ."

Booming from mighty speakers was the man of progress, holding a speech in front of thousands of people. The brief breaks to collect his breath allowed for them to hear the audience's reaction, and the collective whispers of expectant folk rolled through the crowd in waves.

She stopped next to him, hands clasped infront of her. "You're uninterested in the attention." She pitched her voice at the end, framing the statement as a question. Suspecting she already knew the answer.

"I do not enjoy it," he shrugged. "I prefer the practical part of our work."

"The solitude?"

He looked up at her, having had to sit down at some point during their conversation. The promise of dark circles had begun taking form beneath his eyes, painting a tired look onto his face.

"Hmm . . . The quiet if anything, I think. I've found myself in solitude more often than not since Jayce started handling the . . . public aspects," he explained and gestured broadly with one hand, encompassing the local. The entirety Piltover too, she imagined.

"You're happy with that?"

Bobbing his head from side to side, he could not agree nor disagree. "I like quiet, but I prefer the company. Jayce makes good company."

"Well," she began and reached out to him, pinching a piece of wild hair between her fingertips and arranged it back into shape with the rest of his dark waves. "If you find yourself in unwanted solitude, you can always send for me, Viktor. If nothing else, I might be able to help in the lab," she smiled. It was her specialty, after all.

They'd been friends since they enrolled in the academy, but learning under Heimerdinger rarely allowed them time to see eachother.

Straightening his cane, he heaved himself back on his feet.

She would offer him help, but knew it wouldn't be too appreciated.

Leaning on the support, the stream of light escaping the stage colored his face and set it aglow with warmth. "Thank you, . . ." he called her name and smiled. "I might do that."

He was a strong mind in a blighted body. The brightest often were.

-

It was late the next day when she'd gotten a message from Viktor.

Pushing the tall door open, the setting sun painted the spacious workroom in a dim golden light. On first inspection, one could've thought it abandoned. Books were strewn on every available surface, opened or stacked. Dust had already managed to settle on a few, and she guessed that they'd been deemed irrelevant to the two men's work at some point, then simply forgotten to time and unpaced space. "Viktor?" She called out.

"Over here," a thick accent answered. Venturing further inside, she found him by the colossal windows that held a view Piltover. To the side was a blackboard with rows upon rows of calculations. "Please, take a seat." He smiled and gestured toward one of the few chairs that were free of piling notes. "I'd like to show you what I have been working on."

-

And so the evening spilled into dusk, and dusk poured into night. There was nothing now but the dark sky and starlight illuminating the two of them.

"It is not correct," he tapped the chalk against the board and sighed, highlighting a specific problem to her eyes. He'd asked for her thoughts at some point, and ever since the two had been going back and forth trying to solve one particularly stubborn equation.

Settling down on the chair that she had long abandoned, Viktor wrapped his hands over the cane's handle and rested his chin on top. Exhausted eyes studied the same scribbles he'd gone over and over a hundred times before.

In unisome, they sighed.

Knowing glances were thrown each other's way, luring a chuckle from the both of them and gratefully releasing some of their tension. "Thank you, for lending me your mind this evening."

Pursing her lips, she moved in front of him and settled against the worktable. He was still facing the board, pondering the solution, and allowing her to look at him unabashedly. The strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, that pretty little mole above his lip and his perfectly half-wild hair. "I had a good time," she shrugged. "I should be the one thanking you." Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on that angled cheekbone of his. "So, thank you, Viktor," she murmured.

Pushing herself to her feet, she reached out to grab her things, then moved to leave.

But a hand grabbed her wrist before she had the chance. "Thank you for keeping me company, . . ." Viktor said, voice sliding lower with each word until her name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

Her eyes switched between his, attempting to determine if there was an ulterior meaning his words. Looking down at their hands, she noticed his thumb stroking the thin skin at her wrist. Clearing her throat, she swallowed. "You didn't invite me here just to theorise, did you, Viktor?"

He followed her gaze and inspected the hand he held in his. "I like the quiet," he said, gently toying with her fingers. Running along their length, he absentmindedly bent and straightened them as he carefully thought about the next words to leave his lips. "But it seems, I prefer you." His fingers slid between her own, lacing them together.

Stepping closer to him, she cupped the sharp angles of his cheek. Giving him no other choice then to look up at her with those big, rounded eyes. "Are you telling me I'm loud?" She teased.

"No," Viktor smirked and let his cane slip to the floor, prioritising holding her hips. "But I would like to find out." He put pressure behind his hands, pushing her back onto the tabletop behind her. "Take those off, please." He nodded his chin at her suitpants, then leaned back in his chair.

Smiling, she did as asked and a little bit more, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

His eyes trailed over her body, along the curves of her breasts and lace covered mound. Without a word, he moved the chair to face her, hands sliding up her calfs until they hooked beneath her knees and pulled her to the edge of the table.

"Viktor, you don't have to-" she began, rather putting in work for both of them so he could avoid further strain on his body.

But desperate to be of use, to do it himself, he insisted. "I want to," he assured, wrapping a hand around the back of her thigh and squeezed. "Please . . . Let me."

Hesitantly, she nodded her head in compact motions. Willing to please him, but needing him to please her more.

Placing one hand behind her, she braced her weight against the table while her other hand brushed stray strands from his eyes. Combing it back, she burried her fingers in his thick waves. "Okay," she whispered.

What followed was a satisfied smirk and an eager lips trailing kisses along her inner thigh. He made quick work of her panties, then paused. Looking up, brown irises locked with her own as he hovered an inch from her heat. Then suddenly burried his face between her thighs before she'd gotten a second to breathe.

"Fuck-" she moaned, head falling back in bliss as Viktor worked his glorious wonders. An experienced tongue thrust into her core and lapped at her wetness, closing his eyes and humming throughout as if tasting heaven itself. "You taste very sweet, darling," he murmured against her, damp breath fanning against her core and sending shivers up her spine, doing nothing but further spurr her arousal on.

Sinking his teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh, he looked up at her, finding the entire city at her back, framing her exalted form. Behind her quivering shoulders ran the horizon, the night sky painting her into a saint as it formed like a halo around her head. Watching her heaving chest and panthing mouth was enough to make a man believe in powers greater than science.

And he wouldnt relent, when seeing the reaction his mere tongue could cause. He couldn't give her mercy, and he could not give her another second to collect herself lest her climax strayed too far away.

Without warning, he slid his tongue up her folds, collecting her arousal only to swallow with groan. Before she could gasp, he'd already slipped back between her thighs. Aternating between soft kisses and gentle nipping, he turned her into a whimpering mess. In a final act, he latched onto her clit, sucking and circling with fervour. Tears of pleasure rolled down her cheeks as her fingers curled into a fist, pulling on his hair as she held on for dear life.

But all he did was whine from her taste and the pressure on his scalp, whine from the growing unpleasantry in his pants as he devoured his dinner and licked his plate clean. "Pretty," he murmued, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

One quivering body- and an arched back later, she laid back against the tabletop, fighting hard to catch her breath.

Looking back, she glimpsed Piltover. She saw thousands of lights illuminating homes, she saw the sky and the glimmering stars. But she couldn't be sure if it was reality or hallucinations of eyes recovering from a tumultuous orgasm.

Moving up, she braced on her forearms, surveying Viktor's own state. He'd circled his arms around her calves and laid his head in the valley between her thighs, kissing and whispering sweet nothings against her skin. Thumbs stroked soothing circles into her plush flesh whenever his mind reminded him. "Thank you," he whispered and kissed her. "Thank you," he repeated over and over again.

"Thank me when we're done," she exhaled, adoring the way his reaction to making her come was gratitude, for letting him bring her to completion. "Chair or bed?" She asked, already planning their next endeavour. "I want to please you too."

Blinking, he considered. An uncertain smile twitching in the corner of his lips. "Our rooms are far," he murmured, glancing down at his leg. Self-consciousness was never something he displayed, never did he complain or bring it up. In his mind, he wanted to prove that there was nothing wrong with him, that he could withstand and surpass.

Although she understood, although she empathized with him, she did not see the need. A dent in a machine did not change its capability, but it could bump the risk of deterioration. "We all need help sometimes, Viktor," she combed through his hair, scratching and brushing his scalp in turns. Sliding a finger down his face, she placed it beneath his chin, tilting his face to meet hers. "Some hardships are more visible than others, but that should not affect the view people have of you. It certainly won't affect mine," she whispered and brushed her thumb along his upper lip, fingertip gently dotting the mole above, and then followed his cheekbone up to his temble. "But, it's your decision, whatever you're comfortable with," she assured, rubbing circles into his temple.

Burrying his face in her thigh, he sighed and nodded, untamed hair scratching her skin pleasantly. "Yes." Viktor sat back and reached for her hands, clasping them in his own. "My room it is," he smiled and kissed up her knuckles, palm and wrist.

-

She'd never been sure if the professor's assistant got a fancier room then the other students. But standing inside it, she could confirm it was bigger at the very least.

"We were outside of the workshop when miss Medarda found us," Viktor explained as he closed the door behind them.

"No! What did she say?" She snickered, eager to hear the following as shd vetured into his room, examining some of the knicks and knacks he had laying around.

Leaning on his cane, he scrathed his chin. "I do not remember," he said, and then a blush rose to his cheeks, staining them a pretty, pale red. "I believe I paniced and told the councillor that I had gotten the rooms wrong."

Raising an eyebrow, she sauntered back to him, already questioning how the story would end. "And which room was that?" She asked, toying with his collar.

Viktor cleared his throat. "Jayce's," he chuckled, thumb rubbing the handle of his cane. "Miss Medarda had little trust in my excuse."

Her lips pulled into a thin line as she met his eyes, making a worthy attempt at with-holding her laughter. "At least it turned out well in the end," she managed, fingers working to unlace his west as she backed toward the bed, pulling him with her.

"Yes," he said and re-removed her shirt, getting the satisfaction of pulling it over her head this time. "I would like to think so."

Sliding his west down his shoulders, she began unbuttoning the red fabric beneath, where she found another piece of his engineering. She traced the clever contraption with wonder. Softly admiring the skill and ingenuity he'd put into it.

Looking up to ask him about it, she found his expression close to discomfort. He looked vulnerable, like it was a piece of himself he rarely showed anyone else unless he had to.

Smiling softly, she met his gaze with a slanted head. "It's crafted brilliantly," she recognized his hard work while studying the detailing. "It's a-"

"Brace." There was note of resignation in his tone. "My back, it is . . ." He trailed off, looking away.

She sighed silently, hating that he couldn't see his own beauty the way she did. "It's beautiful, Viktor. Truly. It suits you." She ran a finger along the strap over his shoulder. "We can keep the shirt if you'd prefer it."

"No," he said and began taking the shirt off, struggling as he only had one available hand. Sensing irritation, she cupped his jaw, gathering his attention. She watched his face soften, honoured by his trust in her. Then brushed her hands down his throat and shoulders, tracing his collarbone before sliding over his shoulders and beanth the fabric, helping it fall to the floor. Viktor turned them around and moved onto to bed without another word.

She smiled to herself, instantly shy by his sudden confidence. Crawling after him, she straddled his lap, careful not to put too much weight on his leg.

"I am not ready, to . . . Remove the other, yet," he murmured, no longer as resigned when talking about his condition. "I am afraid the pants must stay on, for the moment."

"Thats okay," she nodded softly, connecting their foreheads. "I don't mind." She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his skin beneath her palms. She brushed them down his arms until she found his hands and laced them together with her own, and her lips inched closer to his.

For a while, they settled in this new position. Simply enjoying the moment of newfound feelings and fragility, inhaling one another's scent and sharing the air between them.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, moving closer until their mouths were ghosts upon the other. With parted lips, he crept ever closer, patiently testing the waters. Then, softly, they closed around her bottom lip. With a unified exhale, she kissed him back. She could very faintly taste herself on him.

Together, they could focus on nothing but the softness of the other and the frequency of their breaths. When their lust filled lungs could no longer expell air through their mouths, their noses had to take up the slack. Somehow, adding on to the intimacy between them. In this second in time, they were two souls with lungs filling of emotion, ramping up the speed in which they needed to act.

With no other way for the feelings to go, the eagerness in their lips had to carry them out.

Laced together, she moved his hands to her body, giving him free range to wander while her own traveled downward and found the buttons of his pants. "Is this still alright?" She murmured in-between kisses.

"Yes, please," he answered, his own hands undoing her bra. Then there suddenly was the sound of skin on skin as he slid his hands back around her ribs and cupped her breasts.

With a gasp from his touch, she got the buttons open. Reaching down, she pulled his member out.

He'd been fully hard since they'd left the workshop, and intending to finally put him out of his misery, she spread the pre-cum leaking from his tip and circled it gently. Earning her a soft whimper.

Placing one hand on his chest, she lined him up with the other. Pushing him back against the bed and quickly followed suit herself, wetting the tip in her core.

"Please," he begged, hands moving to cup her face, pulling her back for another kiss. "Please." He introduced their tongues and let them explore each other's mouths. Finally, she carefully slid down his length. Resulting in a shprt break from their kiss through the unisome gasp.

As she began to move, to rut her her hips into his. The kiss became needier and needier until their teeth were clashing and breathing rapid.

She angled her hips so her clit could be stimulated against his mound. She released a breathless whimper at the sensation, but earned a twitch from the member inside her and a grin from the man beneath her. "Glorious woman," he moaned, moving to kiss her jaw and neck. His hands slipping from her face to her hips and ass, squeezing and encouraging her ruts with help from his wrists.

From the several points of pleasure he made for her, she was already closing in on her second orgasm. Straightening up, she put both hands on his chest and used him as support to move in longer bounds around his inches. "That alright?" She asked, imagining nothing worse than to cause him

"Yes, y-yes. Mmh . . . M' close," he managed. Observing her on top of him did nothing to ease the matter, and he hissed from what his thoughts of her alone could muster.

Grinding down harder, jolts of electricity shot through her body. Their combined sounds of pleasure along with the sensations they caused had them both close to their limit.

Closing her eyes, the night sky began forming beneath her eyeslids. Her entire body felt much the same, static sizzled in every nerve as the pressure came close to releasing.

"Look at me," Viktor said with a breathless voice. Fingers clawing at her back and waist with a non existent sharpness.

Taking a deep breath she closed the distance between them once again, and opened her eyes.

This time, she could see the stars reflected in his eyes. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, bringing her head against his, and allowed their lips to meet one last time before they spilled over the edge. Viktor quite literally, as he filled her up with his seed.

With no strength left in her body, she collapsed. Yet, still taking care to place her weight on her side rather than his torso, along with her legs settling between his rather than on top.

"Thank you," he whispered, lips finding her temple as she rested next to him. "For keeping me company."

"It was my pleasure, Viktor," she chuckled. "I hope we can do it again."

"Yes, I would like that," he nodded. "I really care for you, . . ." He whispered her name. "I think, perhaps-"

"I care for you too," she stopped him. "Let's let things happen in their own time, okay?"

"Okey," he smiled, scratching her nape.

As their euphoria began wearing of and sleep caught up, her mind could not settle. "Viktor," she murmured.

"Mmh?" He answered, already drowsing of.

"I maybe think so, too."

[verstappenverse]

this is my official request for “the price of the podium” part 2 😙

The Price of the Podium - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by regret after months of heartbreak, Max shows up at your family gathering uninvited, determined to win back your heart.

3k words / Part 1 / Masterlist

The weeks after the breakup stretched into months, each day feeling like an endless parade of reminders of what he had lost. Max's life, which once felt vibrant and alive, was now painted in muted greys.

On the track, he could still find moments of clarity, moments where the roar of the engine drowned out the voice in his head whispering that he’d let the best part of his life slip away. But off the track, it was a different story.

His apartment, once a filled with laughter and warmth, felt cold and empty. The silence was deafening, the absence of your presence hanging heavy in every room. He found himself noticing the smallest traces of you, remnants of the life you had built together. A sweater, forgotten in the back of the closet, still faintly carried your scent. A book lay abandoned on the coffee table, your favourite bookmark wedged halfway through its pages. Polaroids were scattered on the dresser, the frozen memories of your smile as you leaned into his side, his arm draped protectively around you, each photo a felt like cruel reminders of what he had lost. Every glimpse sent a fresh wave of regret crashing over him, a dagger twisting deeper into his chest, but he still couldn’t bring himself to move them.

He found himself replaying old voicemails just to hear your voice. He scrolled through old messages, rereading your words, torturing himself with memories of the love he’d thrown away. Max couldn’t escape the truth he’d pushed you away, and now he was left to face the reality of life without you.

He avoided your social media, too afraid of seeing something that would break what was left of you and him. But curiosity, or maybe desperation, got the better of him one sleepless night. Scrolling through your profile he found no updates about your life, he didn’t know if that was worse than seeing you move on, seeing nothing but old photos of you smiling, happy, carefree.

He replayed every argument, every missed call, every broken promise, he thought about how you’d always been his biggest supporter, standing by him even when his schedule consumed every part of his life. You deserved better, and he hated himself for realising it too late.

But it wasn’t just Max who was struggling. You had been holding yourself together with frayed strings, pretending to move forward while the heartbreak clung to you like a shadow. At first, you’d tried to busy yourself, spending time with friends, taking on extra projects at work, and redecorating your new apartment.

It hadn’t been easy. The months following the breakup had been a blur of half-healed wounds and quiet realisations. And while the ache had dulled over time, there were still moments when it hit you like a sucker punch, a race replayed on TV, his name in an article, or the way the late-night quiet reminded you of all the times he’d whispered to you in the dark.

Lying in bed without him beside you felt like an impossible adjustment. You’d reached for your phone more times than you could count, almost calling him before stopping yourself.

The grief wasn’t just emotional; it was physical. Your chest ached when you thought about him. You missed the sound of his laugh, the way he’d steal glances at you during quiet moments, the way his presence made you feel like the centre of his world—even if his actions as of late hadn’t always matched that sentiment.

As the weeks dragged on your family and friends noticed the change in you. They tried to cheer you up, inviting you to dinners and outings, but you could see the worry in their eyes.

On the other side of the world Max had been spiralling. His friends, his team, and even his father had commented on the change in him. He wasn’t as sharp, as focused. The usual fire in his eyes had dimmed.

Max waved off concerns, muttering something about being tired, but inside he was screaming. How could he explain that the person who made him feel alive was gone because of his own selfish choices?

One evening as he sat alone in his apartment, the untouched meal in front of him growing cold, his phone buzzed unexpectedly, breaking his trance. It was one of your mutual friends, someone who’d finally had enough of watching you both suffer in silence.

“She won’t tell you, but her family’s all gathering at her parents’ place this weekend,” they said bluntly. “If you care about her Max you’ll show up. This is your chance, don’t let her think you’ve given up. Show her you’re willing to fight for her, because she deserves that much.”

The call ended before Max could respond, but his heart was already racing. This was his chance, it might be his only chance, to fix what he’d broken. He had no plan, no idea how to approach you, but he knew he couldn’t sit back any longer.

For the next week, Max poured every ounce of his energy into figuring out what to say to show you he was serious. He wanted to prove to you, and your family, that he wasn’t the same man who had let you down.

The day had arrived, and Max stood nervously outside your family’s house. His hands were clammy as he gripped the bouquet of flowers, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know if you’d even talk to him, but he had to try. The door opened, and there you were, shocked and hesitant, yet still so beautiful it almost hurt to look at you. For a moment all he could do was take you in, overwhelmed by the sight of the person he’d missed more than anything. His gaze softened as he took in every detail, struck by how you could still leave him completely speechless.

-----

The sound of laughter spilled from the cozy dining room as you placed another dish on the table. Your family’s chatter buzzed in the background, a comforting hum you’d missed over the past few months. Being here, surrounded by the warmth of home and the people who loved you unconditionally was a slight balm to the ache that had settled in your chest since Max had walked out of your life—or perhaps, since you had let him go.

Tonight was supposed to be a distraction, you’d managed to shove the thought of Max to the back of your mind, or so you thought.

When the doorbell rang, the noise in the room quieted. You frowned, glancing toward the door. You weren’t expecting anyone else. Maybe a neighbour?

“I’ll get it!” you called, brushing your hands on a napkin before heading to the door.

But as you opened it, the sight on the other side stole the air from your lungs.

Max stood there, looking like he’d been through hell. His hair was a mess, his face etched with exhaustion, and his usual confident posture had been replaced by a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. He was holding a thoughtfully arranged, beautiful bouquet full of all your favourite flowers.

Your heart pounded, torn between slamming the door in his face and pulling him into your arms.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone equal parts disbelief and shock.

“I needed to see you,” he said, his voice raw.

“Now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended. “Here?”

He winced but didn’t back down. “I know this is the last place I should show up uninvited, but I couldn’t wait anymore.”

The quiet resolve in his voice made it harder to maintain your anger. Still, you kept your stance firm. “Max, this isn’t the time.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’ve been losing sleep for months, and if I didn’t come now I don’t know if I’d get the courage again to say what I need to say.”

You glanced over your shoulder, aware of the curious eyes peeking from the dining room. Your family had gone suspiciously silent. With a sigh you stepped outside, closing the door behind you.

“Okay,” you said, your arms still crossed. “Say it.”

Max shifted, his hands gripping the flowers tightly. “I messed up,” he began. “I let my schedule, my ego—everything—get in the way of what really mattered. I thought I could balance it all, but I was wrong. I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

His words hung in the chilly evening air. You opened your mouth to respond, but he carried on.

“Please there’s more,” he said, his voice with a slight tremble. “I’ve spent every day since we broke up thinking about what I could’ve done differently. About what I lost. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was too blind to see it until it was too late.”

You inhaled sharply, his words hitting you harder than you expected. But the wounds of the past were still fresh. “Max,” you said slowly, “you can’t just show up months later with flowers and expect everything to be okay.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve you. Not after what I put you through. But I couldn’t let another day go by without trying. Without telling you how much I love you.”

Your heart clenched, stirring emotions you’d tried so hard to suppress. Love had never been the issue; it was the broken promises, the absence.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you whispered.

He took a hesitant step closer. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it. If it means stepping back from my schedule, I’ll do it. If it means meeting your family tonight and facing their judgment, I’ll do that too. I just… I can’t let you go without fighting for us.”

His words were sincere, his desperation palpable. You stared at him, torn between the anger that had kept you going and the love that still lingered in your chest.

The door creaked open behind you, and your mother’s head peeked out. “Everything okay out here?” she asked, her gaze flicking between you and Max.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His eyes were fixed on you, his vulnerability laid bare. Against your better judgment, you sighed and turned to your mother. “Yeah. Just… give us a few minutes.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded and disappeared back inside, leaving you alone with him once more.

Max let out a shaky breath. “I know this doesn’t fix everything, but can I at least meet them? Your family?”

The audacity of his request made you blink. “You think meeting them will fix this?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But it’s a start. And they’re important to you. If I’m going to prove I can be better, I have to start by showing up.”

You searched his face, looking for cracks in his resolve. But all you saw was a man who was willing to do whatever it took to make things right. Against every ounce of caution, you found yourself nodding.

“Fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t expect them to go easy on you.”

A small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The night was a whirlwind of introductions, slightly awkward small talk, and more than one pointed question from your family. They weren’t hostile, but the underlying skepticism was palpable.

Max handled it all with a quiet determination that surprised you. He answered their questions honestly, even when they bordered on uncomfortable. He didn’t shy away when your uncle jokingly asked if he planned to 'run away again,' and he stayed composed when your father subtly inquired about his intentions moving forward.

It was strange seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so stripped of the bravado you were used to. He wasn’t the polished, confident man who dominated Formula 1. Here, in this setting, he was just Max. A man desperate to make things right.

And it wasn’t lost on you how your family softened toward him as the night went on. Your younger cousins hung on his every word as he recounted stories from the track. Your mother, ever the skeptic, eventually offered him a second helping of dessert, a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes. Even your father seemed less rigid by the end of the night.

Through it all Max glanced at you whenever he could, his blue eyes silently asking if he was doing enough. And you weren’t sure what the answer was. Part of you wanted to stay guarded, to protect your heart from more hurt. But another part, the part that still loved him deeply was warming to the sincerity in his actions.

When the night finally wound down your family slowly filtered out, leaving you alone with Max in the quiet of the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him as he ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “For letting me in tonight.”

“I don’t know what this means Max, I’m still hurt. It’s not like everything can just go back to the way it was.”

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know…I know I hurt you. I’ve spent every day since the breakup thinking about how I let you down, every mistake I made, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

His voice cracked, and he exhaled shakily, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “I know I probably don’t deserve another chance, but I need you to know that I’m here. I’ll keep showing up, proving to you that I can be the man you deserve. Because I love you. I never stopped loving you, and I never will.”

You looked away, his words cutting through the walls you’d tried to build around your heart. “Max. It takes more than words. It takes effort.”

“I know I have to earn your trust back, and I will, whatever it takes,” he said voice resolute. "I don’t need you to forgive me right now,” he said quickly, taking another step closer. “I just need a chance to show you that I can change, to show you that I’ll never take you for granted again.”

His vulnerability was disarming. This wasn’t the Max who dodged hard conversations or avoided accountability. This was a man who was laying everything bare, risking rejection because he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you bit your lip to keep them from falling. “Max, I don’t even know where to start with this. It’s... a lot,” you said, your voice carrying the weight of all the pain you had kept inside for so long. “I wanted to be patient with you, to understand, to give you the space you needed, but... I pushed you away, too.” The admission stung, more than you expected. “I let my own fears and doubts control me. I was afraid that if I kept giving you chances, I’d just be left alone again. And instead of facing it, instead of talking to you, I shut down.”

Max’s gaze softened, his brow furrowing with understanding. “You weren’t wrong to be afraid. I gave you plenty of reasons to doubt me. But I swear, I’ll prove to you that I’m here, that I'll aways be here for you.”

You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was the man you’d fallen in love with.

Without thinking you reached out, your hand brushing against his. It was a tentative gesture, but it felt monumental. Max’s breath paused, his fingers curling around yours like he was afraid to let go.

The dam broke then, tears spilling down your cheeks as you let out a shaky exhale. “I missed you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I missed you too,” he said, his own eyes glistening. “More than I can ever put into words.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist as he pulled you close. He had feared for so long that this moment would never come, that he had lost you forever. But now, here you were in his arms, letting him in.

His hand slid gently up your back, holding you as if he were afraid you might disappear. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “For everything. I won’t ever let you doubt how much you mean to me again.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through your tears, and your voice trembled but was steady with certainty. “Max…I love you too, I don’t think I could ever stop loving you even if I tried.”

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. His heart raced, and a lump formed in his throat. You loved him. After everything you still loved him.

Your hands slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as if anchoring him to you, grounding yourself in the reality of his presence. "We’ll figure this out together," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. "One step at a time.”

And in that moment, the weight of the past seemed to dissipate, just for a while, and the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his arms around you, the sound of his heart beating in time with yours. You didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment wrapped in Max’s arms you both felt something you hadn’t in a long time, hope.

[doitforbangchan]

Little Tease - Bangchan

This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear

This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)

Masterlist

Not proofread :)

Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 

You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 

‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 

‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 

‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 

That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 

It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 

It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 

You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 

It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 

“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 

“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.

The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 

“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 

Oh my fucking god no way. 

“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 

“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 

Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 

You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 

You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 

“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 

“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 

‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 

“Put me in my place?” 

“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 

It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 

As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 

Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 

“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 

“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 

“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.

 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 

“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 

“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 

Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 

“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 

That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 

Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 

“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 

He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 

“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 

“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 

You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 

He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 

Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 

You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 

Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 

He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 

“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 

His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 

You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 

He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 

“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 

“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 

Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 

He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 

“Please. Want it Channie.” 

That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 

“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 

When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 

When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 

His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 

Or maybe he would keep you. 

It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.

“Channie…. ‘M close.” 

Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 

At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.

Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 

You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 

“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

[show-your-fangs]

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room. 

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

[thewinter-eden]

All Ye Who Enter Here - pt II

images are mine (except middle LF pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 6.5 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: ghost!Felix is said to haunt the abandoned mansion at the end of Blacktree Road. Legend says all who go into the mansion are never seen again. When you decide you’re sick of your friends being afraid of a literal house, you rise to the challenge and go inside. Spoiler alert, Felix is real, and he can’t believe you’re dumb enough to walk into a haunted house.

warnings: Hauntings, death, afterlife, angst; it's still different for the rest of the series but I feel better about this after last night's sucked so bad. I hope you guys enjoy.

Word Count: 3k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

PART 1

Blacktree House is haunted.

Now you know for sure.

At some point in the middle of a perfectly gloomy day, clouds hanging low over the tree tops and the smell of rain in the air, the reality of the house insisted upon being known, and the trajectory of your life changed in an instant.

At the behest of your not entirely skeptical friends, in the hope of monetary reward, you stepped into the old Victorian house for the first time since your youth. A house of horrors, sitting quietly at the end of Blacktree Road, resting innocently in the shadows of her own exaggerated reputation.

The haunted house.

Where teenagers explore on a bet. Where students lure others as a prank. Where lawyers and realtors fear the threshold.

All of her visitors emerge marked, cursed.

All of her visitors doomed to die.

Foolish young people, remembered only by their headlines—found dead, days after visit to Blacktree House.

No longer limited to local legend, word of mouth tales of haunting cries and disembodied voices from within, Blacktree House became known to surrounding media, law enforcement, desperate novelists, worried parents.

Your mother’s empty home, a deadly omen.

You had known the truth.

Rather, you had known a truth.

Blacktree House, nor the presumed ghosts within, hadn’t killed any of those people.

Because you were the wretched thing in the dark.

And before you, your mother.

Perhaps genetically predisposed to catharsis through blood, or perhaps groomed from infancy to assume it a natural compulsion, you had no fear of the House’s power.

Why fear the scapegoat for your own indiscretions?

So you crossed the threshold of the rotting house, and strolled the memories that resided in your family’s forgotten things. And that’s when you met him. For the second time, to be fair, though you had hardly taken the time to learn his name upon first acquaintance.

Felix, he was called.

The beautiful young man whose life you stole. The trapped soul who demanded an answer of you that you could not give.

Instead, he showed you the truth that you had misunderstood, a spiderweb of souls trapped by your family’s crimson hands.

There are ghosts in Blacktree House.

And you are one of them.

At first, you could only roam. When you found yourself staring down at your own fallen form, your face frozen and stricken by death, you once again lacked an understanding of events occurring inside Blacktree House.

Around you, faces. Some familiar, some not, all of them watching you with wicked triumph.

Your garden of souls.

Your own flagitious workmanship.

They watch you, lifeless eyes gleaming as you process. The cold air of the house now passes unhindered through your body and your feet don’t rest upon the floor. You are weightless, matterless, lifeless.

Still standing in the room he had trapped you in, Felix meets your eyes. He is crying—as much as a ghost can cry—and you know why. Your ghosts haven’t killed anyone. They take the blame for your transgressions, a supernatural answer for the basest human sin, known to all as vicious malevolents. But they haven’t killed anyone.

Nobody except you.

And the mourning, brokenhearted Felix, now carries not only the burden of his own death, but now the weight of yours as well.

You deserve this.

He does not.

After the revenge is exacted, the spirits of Blacktree House turn away from you, leaving you standing in the halls of your childhood. You cannot comprehend that the body at your faded feet is your own, so you turn your eyes away.

All you can do is roam.

For months, you drift aimlessly down the corridors, unable to find purchase among the corporeal. You have dreams of floating out an open window on a windy day, becoming lost in unending space, but you cannot leave.

This house is your prison, she will not let you go.

The others in the house ignore you. You cannot speak, you cannot focus enough to keep from straying through the walls or sinking through the floor. You try to direct yourself to the first floor, where the house will not let you sink past the foundations, only to find yourself floating towards the attic like a lost balloon.

You hear your friends visit occasionally. They stand outside where they once stood, watching you disappear on the last day of your life. You stand at the window and hear them cry, and in the years that come you’ll watch them grow up.

But you can’t make yourself visible to them, not yet, so you remain unseen, just watching.

It’s storming the night that you first feel your feet settle on the floor with definitive weight. By now your body is long gone from the hall where it fell, collected by the coroner after your friends called the police.

Your spirits didn’t interrupt the process.

You watched from the side, barely tethered to the room you’re trying to stand in, and wonder if they’ll say it was a heart attack, like your mother.

But you never find out.

The news doesn’t get delivered to an empty house.

So now, when you focus on directing your movement and actually feel the bottom of your shoe scuff the floor, you feel like your heart has started again. You still can’t speak, still too new at life beyond the veil to learn the mechanics of immaterial vocal cords, but deep down you’re shouting with joy.

You chance another step and feel your knees bear your weight for the first time in nearly a year, and your eyes lift with excitement.

Felix is standing there.

He has witnessed your first steps, and he meets your overjoyed gaze with hollow trepidation.

Your excitement fades even as you feel your heels ache beneath you. He is watching you with such forlorn resignation that your new achievement feels like a crime. You are his killer. Why should he be happy for you?

When he turns away from you and departs on feet that have had too much time to practice, he leaves you with a purpose.

Now, at least, all you have left in the world is the ability to walk. And if you have to walk your way to atonement, then walk you shall.

The souls of Blacktree House come to notice your newfound ability to tether yourself to a room in short time. Because you’re no longer drifting, lost, mad with absence of life, now you’re visiting. You’re wordlessly in the room, watching two teenage boys play with a football that accidentally got kicked through one of the windows.

You learn that their names are Dae and Jin, friends from high school, and that they both have little sisters who come by every six months and leave little bundles of wildflowers on the front porch that the boys can’t reach.

You learn that what they want more than anything is to be able to reach the wilty little bundles of weeds. They had come to the house two years ago to explore for cool treasure, a few days before you had found them in a park after dark.

You visit a couple in the kitchen, a man named Jiwook and his girlfriend, Areum, and watch them make tea. It’s a memory of tea, a manifestation of a whistling kettle and steaming earl grey, but it fills the kitchen with the smell of sweet herbs and makes them smile.

They had come to the house one halloween for a spooky date, having a picnic among the stacks of books in the living room, before you found them in their car on lovers lane.

You sit on the floor with a man while he reads, you learn that his name is Namjoon, that he was a realtor who came to the house to appraise it. You learn that he keeps the memory of his daughter in a locket against his chest, and that he never made it back to his office that night.

There are four college girls who have tea parties in the dining room. They’re all from different times, and they each bring memories of a different tea (one of them brings coffee and one of them makes all of their teas Irish) but they all sit together and giggle about Jisung and Seungmin from World Lit, two handsome students who are by now surely graduated and married.

Three soccer players drink from red Solo cups in the den, filling the house with noise at night. They croon at the college girls and subject them to drunken serenades, but when morning comes and the hangovers don’t, they’re sitting at the cold fireplace, watching you with smug eyes.

You recognize the hands that broke your living body, the hands that you once buried under cover of darkness.

You don’t have to visit Felix.

Everywhere you go and watch, he watches you. He has watched you mouth the names of the souls you visit, repeating them until you’ll never forget. He has watched you learn to cry, the memories of tears streaking down your cheeks as you watch Namjoon kiss his daughter’s photo for the hundredth day in a row.

Has has watched you reach to comfort a crying Dae, only to have your hand pass fruitlessly through the boy’s shoulder. He has watched you figure out speech when the millionth apology rolls off your tongue, finally accompanied by the sound of your voice that he hasn’t heard since he trapped you in that room two years ago.

And for a while, after you’ve found your voice, you only know how to cry. You are the weeping woman, the keening wails echoing off the walls and birthing new legends of Blacktree House.

He has watched you prostrate yourself before every inhabitant of your mother’s house, reverent apologies falling from your heart until even the soccer players soften their glares.

It takes months.

Months of regret bleeding from your soul, falling to your knees in repentance, before he hears you laugh for the first time.

It is such a relieved, stunned, heartbreaking laugh, that he transports himself to the dining room to hear it again.

Jisoo has offered you a memory of Irish coffee, and you have accidentally poured it from the cup, through your transparent mouth, throat, and body, to splatter ineffectually on the floor before fading once more into nothing.

It is the first time you have tried to consume something, and the girls are laughing at the mortified shock on your face.

Jisoo pours you another memory, guides you through how to try again, and you laugh with her. You experience the fleeting paradise of hot coffee trickling down your throat, the memory of a warm stomach, and turn your eyes to find Felix smiling at you.

The reminiscence of coffee fades and steals away its warmth, but you are not cold.

You are trapped in the molten brown of Felix’s forgiving eyes, and you are hot with self-hatred.

You fall through the floor, and there is Namjoon, kissing his daughter’s photo. It’s not until you’re sitting next to him, knees tucked to your chest, eyes blurred with tears, that he smiles at you. “My wife died of ovarian cancer,” He says, and looks back down at his daughter’s face. “Ten years later, my daughter did too.”

You can’t explain the ache you feel in a heart you no longer have.

But Namjoon just smiles sadly at you. “Parents don’t get to choose what they pass down to their children any more than children get to choose what they inherit.”

You don’t accept his forgiveness, not when you’re responsible for your own sins. “I’m so sorry, Namjoon.”

He can’t meet your eyes. “We know.”

Felix finds you one night while you’re cleaning the entryway around the front door. He watches you pick up books and broken pottery, disposing of one and dusting and shelving the other. “What are you doing?”

You startle at his voice, dropping the broom you’ve found in a closet. “I’m hoping Dae and Jin’s sisters will bring their flowers closer to the door if it doesn’t look so scary.” You say quietly. “They’ll be here this month.”

He knows. He’s seen the way the young boys weep when the girls come, he’s ached for them just as much. “That’s kind of you,” He says.

“It’s not enough.” You return, and go back to sweeping.

A month later, he finds you repairing clothes from the attic. They’re your family’s, from back in the sixties, long before the deviant blood entered the gene pool, and you give them to the college girls. It’s not much, but now their Irish tea (and coffee) parties look like a scene out of I Love Lucy, and laughter floats down the halls a little more often than it did before.

Weeks after that, he finds you bringing a memory of your grandmother’s cherry pie to life in the kitchen, filling the house with sweetness, chatting with Areum over the stove.

You are still the weeping woman.

The room you’ve claimed as your own rings with the sound of your guilt after dark, mornings repleat with a fresh round of repentance.

When you’ve haunted the halls of your handcrafted hell for three years, Felix knocks on your door. You answer easily, by now comfortable in your spiritual form, and are surprised to find him there.

“I have something to show you,” He says, and then disappears.

You’ve learned how to follow his presence, to transport yourself through the house, so you find yourself standing before a bedroom door you’ve never opened. You’ve assumed it belongs to one of your spirits, and you’ve never dared to disturb.

Felix pushes the door open and there, on the bed, is your mother.

She flickers in and out of view like the rest of you do, but other than that she doesn’t move. She sits, facing the window, a hollow shell.

In shock, you look to Felix and see him watching you. “She’s been there since they took her.” He says. “Thirty years, just sitting there.” A moment passes, and your mother never once looks up. “The ones she killed were trapped here, too. When they took her, and she learned to tether herself, she barricaded herself in here. After a while, her spirits just faded.”

You’re too stunned to speak.

The giver of your darkest talents sitting listlessly before you, refusing to even recognize her own daughter.

“They’re still here.” Felix says softly. “We can still feel them sometimes. Still hear them. But when she just shut herself up in here…”

He seems hesitant to say his next words.

“There was nothing to keep them bound. Nothing new, nothing engaging. She never apologized, never tried to make things right, she never tried to help her victims see their families or help them dress up and be silly.”

Your throat seems to close.

You and your mother may have had the same ungodly penchant for death, for dominion over others, but you can’t believe her apathy. She found herself dragged into another life beyond the veil, faced with those she had carelessly wronged, and yet she felt nothing of guilt?

You can’t fathom it. You no longer recognize yourself in her. If it takes you a thousand years to pay for the wrongs you’ve done to your house of souls, then you’ll pay for a thousand years.

You can’t even comprehend anything else.

“She never tried to keep life going here,” Felix says, and then he closes the door and blocks your mother from view. For a moment he just watches you, watches the tears pour. “You just needed to see,” He says quietly. “The penance you’re paying makes a difference to us.”

Your heart cracks. “It’s not enough.” You whisper.

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” And then his hand finds yours and he leads you away from your mother. “But it changes everything anyway.”

ANON ASK - Why Did the Ghosts Wait So Long to Kill Reader and Her Mother? (answered)

ANON ASK - How Did Reader Know Who To Kill if They've Never Visited The House Since Their Childhood? (answered)

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme @thecutiepieme @lemonn015 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @dreamingartist13 @ebnabi

[hellodarling1357]

Flames and Embers - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Summary: As Beron's sixth child, and only daughter, you had spent your whole life being overlooked and under utilitised. It wasn't until Amarantha's reign that your talents were truly recognised for what they were - too bad you were forced to make a bargain to keep them secret

A/N: Hi! This started out as a request I received the other week but then turned into something completely different and so far from the original request that it’s now getting it’s own multi-part story

This will eventually become a Cassian x Reader fic with a bit of angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, and all the other fun tropes we know and love!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3k

Being the only daughter of the Autumn Court’s High Lord, alongside having seven brothers to compete with, you had been overlooked for most of your life which was just fine by you.

You had used the cover of being just a female in an archaic court to your advantage and took the time to observe and learn whatever you could. After being forced to witness how your brothers treated Lucien, you had always tried to have his back, which only went so far when any show of defiance from you was met with a beating. When Lucien had been forced out of your home, you had been heartbroken it had come to it but also happy that your youngest brother could finally become his own person and escape the cruelty that had followed him around his whole life.

Eris had always tried to keep an eye on you. He wouldn’t give up the façade in front of the others, however, he would find the time whenever he could to take you out riding into a long-forgotten part of the woods where he would teach you how to fight. The day you landed him on his ass had been one of his proudest moments, but that didn’t stop him from upping the pressure, forcing you to become stronger and more tactful in each step. Knowing that you could easily take on the rest of your brothers is what kept you from lashing out at their comments and actions towards you; with Lucien gone, you had become their next punching bag to which your father turned a blind eye.

Then Amarantha showed up and everything was turned on its head.

It was in no way a pleasant 50 years, however, you managed to stay out of harm’s way, no doubt at the hands of Eris' doing, and managed to avoid most of the horrors that occurred. However, once the human girl, Feyre, had arrived, you made yourself more present in the ongoings of Amarantha’s court, unable to leave the girl fully alone and fending for herself. Your need to help her was further spurred on upon realising that Lucien appeared to be her friend.

Lucien. The thought that your brother, the one who had managed to escape the past 50 years of torment, was now here as well had you feeling as though you had somehow let him down, even though it was completely out of your control. You hadn’t been present the first time Tamlin had sent Lucien to seek out Amarantha, the time when she had so viciously carved out his eye that even some of your brothers seemed somewhat affronted. However, you were there now. You had watched on in horror as Lucien defended Feyre, and then the 20 lashes Tamlin was forced to give after he helped with the first task…

Once Lucien had been allowed to retreat to his room, you had spent the next hour finding out as much as you could about Amarantha's plans for Feyre and your brother. With healing supplies in hand, you ventured into the sprawling court to where you had been told Lucien resided. With a quiet knock on his door, you entered the room and felt your heart break at the shaken, broken form of your brother. Despite the clear pain he was in, he had leapt off the bed at the sight of you and was quick to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” He had exclaimed, carefully surveying you for any signs of injury. “Are you alright? What’s happened? Cauldron, I’ve missed you.” Then he was pulling you into another hug that left you in tears.

When was the last time you had seen him? It had been decades.

“I’m fine,” You brushed him off and made him sit so you could assess his injuries. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” He made a non-committal sound in response, taking in a deep breath at the sting of the healing balm you helped spread across his back. You pushed onto your heels, assessing the damage and your makeshift attempt of bandaging the wounds.

“What can I do?” You asked, feeling just as helpless as you did when growing up.

“Check in on Feyre. Please. I can’t…I can’t do anything, not now. And whatever game Tamlin is playing, he won’t go see her. Please. She’s all alone.” You hesitated for a moment but found yourself nodding.

“Of course. Of course I’ll go and see her.” You lowered your voice, not trusting that anywhere in this place was truly safe. “Does she truly love him?” If she did, then you all had a chance of getting out.

“She does.” Lucien answered, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Anything else, let me know, alright? I’ll go and check on her.” You gave your brother a final hug and then slipped from the room, making your way towards the dungeons.

*****

“Feyre?” You whispered into the darkness, the guards were in the middle of their rotation, so you had few valuable minutes to slip in and out undetected, the limited healing supplies and food you managed to take with you were clutched tightly into the folds of your dress.

An incoherent groan sounded from further down the dark, cage-lined corridor. You hurried over, halting in your steps when you saw her sitting against the wall still covered in blood and mud, a pained expression on her weary face.

“Feyre? I’m Y/N. I’m Lucien’s sister, he asked me to check on you, see how you were holding up.” You tried to stay optimistic but the wound on her arms was nothing that you could fix. Maybe before Amarantha stifled everyone’s magic you would stand a chance, but not now when all you could offer were some clean rags, a bit of water and a scrap of bread.

You knelt on the floor in front of her cell, unable to get in without your magic or access to the key.

“I know it hurts, but are you able to move a bit closer, I can’t help you from here.” You cringed as you watched Feyre grit her teeth, slowly moving across the floor, pain evident on her face.

“Y/N?” She asked in a strained voice, you nodded with a small smile, passing her the bread which she quickly bit into. “Lucien told me about you. Said that you were here.”

“I don’t have long, here, give me your arm I’ll do my best to clean it but there’s not much else I can do. At least not right now.” You wiped away the blood and muck that lingered from the first task, trying not to grimace as you took in the severity of the wound. The sound of movement spurred you on, quickly ushering her to drink the water and finish the bread so you could leave before getting caught.

“I’ll try to get back here soon, okay?” Feyre was already making her way back towards the rear wall where she slumped against it. You were almost out when a small voice called out.

“Y/N? Thank you.”

*****

Managing to obtain some of the healing balm that you had used on Lucien's injuries, you kept to the shadows as you made your way back down to the dungeons.

You had been keeping an ear out for what Amarantha’s plans were for the girl; if she planned on healing her before the next task or leaving her in the dark cell to fend for herself. Either way, you couldn’t be too obvious in your efforts to help, lest you get caught and wind up dead for the blatant disregard of Amarantha's orders.

The sound of voices had you slowing in your steps as you overhead the back end of a conversation. Someone was in Feyre’s cell with her.

“Oh, that’s wonderfully gruesome.” You recognised that voice, but surely it wasn’t…

Feyre swore at the male, earning her a chuckle as he taunted, “Such words from a lady.”

You edged closer to the cell, unsure what your next move would be from here but still unwilling to leave her to fend for herself against Rhysand.

“Get out,” Feyre’s voice was frail as she tried to show her strength against the High Lord.

“Don’t you want me to heal your arm? Or is that what Y/N Vanserra is here to do? I know you’re there, Y/N.” His voice called out to you now.

Shit.

You approached the cell; it was too late to turn back. Your best chance was to play along with his games, there was not point in running, not when he knew you were there and that it clearly wasn’t your first visit.

“Hmm, wiping away the grime was a valiant effort, and what’s this you have?” The healing balm disappeared from your grasp, reappearing moments later in Rhysand’s hand. “Well, that’s not going to do much against the infection and broken bones.”

Rhysand turned back to face Feyre, “But how about a trade? I’ll heal your arm in exchange for you. Two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you’ll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trials business.” You desperately shook your head, trying to tell her he couldn’t be trusted.

“No.”

“No? Really?”

“Get out.”

“You’d turn down my offer – and for what? A fool’s chance that this healing balm will work? Or are you holding out for your friend – for Lucien, correct? After all, he healed you before, didn’t he? Then convinced his dear sister Y/N to come down to tend to you after the first trial.”

Now Rhysand turned to face you, giving you a look that had you thinking he could see your every thought, which, you remembered with dread, he probably could. You had never been taught how exactly mental shields worked but you did your best to block him out. It clearly wasn’t enough judging from the chuckle and assessing look he gave you before facing Feyre again.

“The way I see things Feyre, you have two options. The first, and the smartest, would be to accept my offer.” Your eyes widened in anticipation as Feyre spat at his feet, but Rhysand continued pacing the length of the cell.

“The second option – and the one only a fool would take – would be for you to refuse my offer and place your life, and thus Tamlin’s, in the hands of chance.”

Rhysand had stopped pacing, staring hard at Feyre who had turned white as a sheet and looked as thought she may pass out at any moment.

“Let’s say I walk out of here. Perhaps this healing balm will work,” He tossed it back to you, desperate in your attempt to grab it before it could shatter to the floor. “Perhaps Lucien will come to your aid and offer his magic. Or perhaps he won’t come at all. Between you and me, he’s been keeping a low profile after his rather embarrassing outburst at your trial. Amarantha’s not exactly pleased with him. Tamlin even broke his delightful brooding to beg for him to be spared – such a noble warrior, your High Lord. She listened, of course – but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

Feyre started shaking, eyes darting up to you in confirmation and what looked like betrayal. You hadn’t told her about the lashes.

“Although, from what I heard, the punishment wasn’t overly effective seeing that the wounds somehow healed over within a few hours without the assistance of magic. You would almost think that something like that healing balm you've got there, Y/N, was used despite Amarantha’s order that there was to be no assistance provided.” Rhysand tutted as he turned to you with a smile that made your stomach coil but said no more on the matter.

“So, Feyre, it’s really a question of how much you’re willing to risk it. I don’t need to invade your thoughts to know that you’re wondering if that fever of yours is the first sign of infection. I already know that you’ve slowly been realising that you’re dying.” There was a beat of silence in which Feyre stared back at him with such hatred, you felt your pulse quicken at the thought that it may be too late to help.

“Well?”

“Go. To. Hell.”

Before you could react, Rhysand lashed out and twisted Feyre’s arm, her scream echoing throughout the cell as she thrashed against him. But he kept his grip, twisting the bone a final time before releasing her arm as she half sobbed and panted through the pain.

“This is the last time I’ll extend my assistance. Once I leave this cell, my offer is dead.” Feyre spat at him again but remained silent.

With a disappointed sigh, Rhysand began to ripple with darkness. You weren’t sure what to think; you couldn’t trust him but if Feyre really was dying and this was her only chance of survival…

“Wait.”

The darkness around the High Lord vanished, solidly appearing again with a grin as he faced Feyre.

“Yes?”

“Just two weeks?”

“Just two weeks. Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.” He was kneeling in front of her now as he purred out his terms. As if suddenly aware of how much time you had already spent down here, your senses picked up, listening closely for any sounds of the returning guards, but there was nothing.

A surge of magic had you turning to face the cell just as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s arm. She let out a scream before fainting, head falling against the wall.

“What did you do?” You yelled, banging on the bars of the cell in a futile attempt to get in.

“Exactly what we bargained for. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, Vanserra.” Before you could process his words, Feyre was suddenly sitting up, with the blood and mud completely gone you could do nothing but watch as some colour finally returned to her cheeks. Letting out a sign you offered her a small smile, at least he had kept his word and healed her arm. The remainder of the bargain was something to think about later when you all got out of this mess. If you all got out of this mess.

“What have you done to me?” Only then did you notice the black swirls that covered her skin and the large eye tattooed in the centre of her palm.

“It’s custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked upon flesh.”

“Make it go away.”

“You humans truly are grateful creatures, aren’t you?” Rhysand stood back up, darkness wafting around him again. “I think I’ll wait to tell Tamlin about our little bargain. I do wonder if he will be as appreciative as you are. Rest up, Feyre.” And then he was gone in a shadow of night.

“Feyre? Are you alright?” You knelt on the floor outside the cage, surveying her for any signs of potential harm caused by Rhysand, but she just looked tired, troubled.

“I’m fine. My arm is fine. I just feel stupid, he didn’t do that to help me, he did it to hurt Tamlin.”

You let out a sigh, “We’ll deal with that later, alright? At least you’re not about to die, so we will take that as a win.” Standing back up you surveyed her again; she was so young and had already faced so much more than most of the fae here. “I’ve been here too long, I need to go before the guards return. But, Feyre, I’ll be back. I promise.”

*****

You slipped out of the dungeons and hurried down the corridor, quickly ducking behind a corner at the sound of the guards returning.

“Hello, Y/N.”

You jumped at his voice, heart hammering in your chest as you turned to face Rhysand where he casually leant against the wall, picking at his jacket as he surveyed you with mild interest.

“I was starting to wonder about what you had been getting up to after all these years here. We never see you at any of our Lady’s…festivities.”

“I must have missed the invite.” You tried to step around him. You had gone this long without piquing the interest of any of Amarantha’s cronies, managing to stay relatively to yourself, and you’d be damned if you were forced to show your face now.

“Interesting,” His violet eyes continued to assess you. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me really. I remember back when we were just children, playing court whilst forced to join in on the formalities. You always managed to remain in the shadows, yet even back then, you somehow knew everything and got away with so much.”

You stared back, eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue. He clearly had some angle he was getting at.

“Yes. Those particular skills may be useful to me one day. And while I’m in such a giving mood, how about a bargain of our own? You be my eyes and ears,” You scoffed, already shaking your head as you attempted to walk away again. “And in return, I’ll keep your role in all of this quiet. You wouldn’t want Amarantha to know that it was you who helped Lucien, and now Feyre, would you? After all, I’m sure she would be pleased to be reminded of your presence in her court.”

Glaring at him, you knew he had you cornered. The satisfied smirk that played on his face told you that he knew as well.

With a reluctant sigh you stretched out your hand which he firmly grasped.

“Fine.”

“Lovely.”

You refused to break eye contact with the High Lord as you felt his magic encase your upper arm and shoulder, no doubt leaving a similarly intricate pattern to the one now splayed across Feyre’s arm.

You looked down to see if there was any visible evidence of the bargain, but it was completely covered by your dress. Good. At least that would stop any questions from being asked.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N.” And then he was gone in another shadow of darkness.

[crow-raven-crow]

hi this is a very simple and kinda vague request, but i'd luv a larissa x fem reader fic involving feet or hand play? either that or something involving the reader realizing she really likes how larissa smells when she comes home from work and larissa starts to tease her and encourages her to smell her while they're fucking because of that. maybe both! hope this isn't too weird lol

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff !! teasing, NSFW, Reader receiving, g!p Larissa, hand kink, choking kink, slight marking, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, begging, praise kink, mommy kink, shape shifted dick, what a way to come back ohmygods

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The crackling fireplace painted dancing shadows against the dark walls, creating a show of golden hues just feet before you. The warmth emanating from the soft flames filled you with a peaceful comfort with each bursting ember. Soft, worn pages of a book sat in your hands, the universe that it created in your mind was almost impossible to keep up with, as it kept clouding over with thoughts of her.

The mere thought of her name casted a spell over your senses, making your heart swell and your stomach fill with butterflies. Images of her echoed through your mind, your heart quickening in pace as you did so. You were so consumed with the show of her in your mind, that the book had become long forgotten, as your eyes focused on the flickering firelight.

You felt the rumble of her laughter echo in the chambers of your mind, the softness of her touch as though it was tracing invisible patterns against your skin, the tenderness of her lips as they kissed along your body as though it was a masterpiece, the pleasure of her tongue as though she-

The metallic sound of a key turning in the lock cut through the quiet of your quarters, closing all previous thoughts and jolting you back into reality. The world outside your thoughts immediately rushed back in, leaving only the lingering emotions of them in their place. Your chest heaved slightly, a noticeable heat rushing to your face and making your whole body hot as you caught onto your most recent thoughts.

You quickly composed yourself, inhaling deeply in attempt to settle the small heat igniting within you. Standing slowly as you let out the breath, you placed your book onto the side table, the pages neglected as the fire still roared on and danced behind you. You stepped closer as the door slowly swung open, an excitement filling your chest knowing that she stood behind it. The sight of her stilled the air in your lungs, your lips parting ever so slightly as you took in her beauty.

Her white hair, almost glowing with the light of the flames behind you, was perfectly pinned in her flawless updo, each strand falling together perfectly with each other in every twist she pinned. The pin at the back of her head concealed the length of the silvery locks, but came together to show her grace and elegance all the same. The dress she wore clung onto her every curve, the sleek grey becoming a canvas to her form, allowing her sapphire eyes to pop with the cool tones. The collar of the dress flared out just enough to draw attention to her neck and the delicate lines of her collarbones. The belt that tied around her waist framed her hips in a way that made your mouth water. Gold accents adorned her wrists and neck, being the final touch of warmth that brought out the beauty of her tall frame.

As she entered the room, it was as though all the gods worked in her favor. The light from the flames lighting up her features, yet the dark colors of the room giving her command over it all if she were to say a word.

You must have been staring for too long, your eyes moving up and down along her form to drink in every detail that it snapped you back to the present when you felt her hand trace along your jawline. Her delicate fingers smoothed up the features of your face, cupping your cheek in her palm before laying a gentle kiss against your lips. It was warm, tender as though it was translating a million unsaid words: perfect.

"Hello, my dear.." Her voice was just as serene, overflowing with the happiness and love as though it were day one all over again. Her lips shadowed over your own as she spoke, delicate in all her movements as though she would break you like porcelain. The scent of her perfume overtook your senses, the intoxicating smell of her being so strong that it made your eyes roll back slightly and a deep breath of it fill your lungs.

"Hi, my love.." Your voice was just above a whisper, but running deep with the effect that she had on you. She had known for a while just how drunk you could get on the smell of her alone, and since then she made it a point to wear a little more every so often.

You allowed her to settle into your quarters, her heels quickly coming off with a distinct click of each heel. As she moved deeper into the room, all her items found their familiar homes, making your heart swell knowing this was a place of home to her. Your gaze lingered on her form, watching as comfort seemed to overtake her, her shoulders relaxing and her face coming to a content calm. It was hard not to fall in love with her all over again just at the simplest of things.

You followed behind her with two wine glasses and her favorite bottle, as she moved to sit on the couch in front of the fire. This was one of your favorite ways to unwind with her, and relishing in each others company was something that you would always cherish.

Though.. your thoughts from earlier always had a way of coming back in, especially now that she was even more of a delicious distraction being in front of you.

She spoke about her day, going through the details of her meetings and any particularly interesting emails she had to deal with today. The way she spoke with her hand was mesmerizing, easily capturing you in a trance due to your already heated thoughts about her, as your eyes devoured every detail of her long fingers. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, your breathing hitch and your mouth water as you remembered just what those fingers could do to you.. How she could so easily have you at her mercy.. digging into your flesh and leaving crescent marks in their wake, trailing along your skin and rising goosebumps with each pass, have your back arching and your hips swaying with one simple touch-

"Y/n.. Could you repeat what I just said, my dear?" Her voice shocked you back into your body, the rapid blinking of your eyes and the small jump when she had said your name giving you away immediately. She seemed amused at your blush, the pink hue only making a smirk come to her red painted lips as she caught on to where your thoughts were.

"I- U-Um.. You-" As you spoke, her fingers trailed up your arm, smoothly tracing against your skin and leaving electricity in her path. The rest of your words were cut off when her fingers made it to your collarbones, eventually curling their way around your throat and squeezing oh so gently.

The sensation made your eyes roll back as they fluttered shut, your fingertips gripping onto the hem of your skirt as you felt her move closer to your form, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "What exactly is floating through the pretty head of yours, darling?"

You could feel your heart rate pick up, especially with her fingers resting just above your pulse point, and you were sure she could feel it too. The way your thighs clenched together and how a small whimper left your throat as she squeezed harder were all signs of how the night would go.

"Your- mmph.. your fingers.." Your chest heaved in pleasureful desperation as her lips moved down your neck, her fingers pushing against your jaw and allowing her room to flatten her tongue against your skin. Arousal shot right through to your core, and she'd barely even touched you.

She pushed you down slightly, your hair sprawling out against the cushion as she shifted perfectly between you legs. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her tongue smoothing over your bottom lip as she pushed her hips against your core. Your gasp gave her the opportunity to explore your mouth, the opportunity to start to devour you..

Her fingers worked on the buttons of your collared shirt, quickly exposing more of your skin to her. When she reached the last button, she pulled the garment off completely and took a moment to trace over your skin, her lips gently pulling away from yours as her hands met the skin of your torso. Her fingers lightly scratched against your sides before smoothing their way up to beneath your breasts. Her thumbs worked their way under your bra, her fingertips smoothing over your nipples and causing a whimper to leave your throat.

Before long, your bra was discarded as well, her lips making their way down against your skin and leaving deep marks against it. One of your hands tangled into her hair, disrupting the perfect curls with each tug of pleasure you gave her. Once her tongue smoothed over your right bud, any hopes of staying quiet had left, the need for her building within you even before she was present. She worked on both buds, forming both into hard peaks and giving them both attention before she was satisfied.

When she moved up to capture your lips again, her gaze met blown pupils swirling with lust. You crashed your lips into hers, one hand pulling her in from the back of her neck while the other rested behind you for balance. She was quick to move you into her arms, carrying you to your bed with ease.

She sat down on the edge, placing you onto her lap after getting rid of the rest of your clothes, though slight confusion came over you when your back was to her front.

It didn't take you long to realize why, when she rested one hand back against your throat while the other toyed with your breasts. Your eyes darkened at the sight in front of you - you welcoming her fingers into your mouth with a deep moan, your legs spread open and showing your glistening folds - for the mirror in front of you gave you the best view of what was would come.

"Mmm.. you like Mommy's fingers, hmm?" You felt your brain short circuit at the sound of her voice, at the sound of her title making its way through your ears and building a home inside your rapidly beating heart. You felt the heat course through you as your tongue swirled around her digits, and it showed in the reflection that it was getting increasingly harder for you to wait the more you got drunk on her.

She pulled her fingers from your mouth with a trail of your saliva attached to the ends of them, your breathing labored and filled with lust as you looked into her eyes through the reflection. She nipped the skin of your shoulder, while her other hand traced over the marks she had already painted against you. You were so focused on her lips, that you didn't notice her hand trail down to your core, until she teased against your slit, running her fingers through your folds and making your back arch as a gasp left your lips.

You threw your head back as her fingers began circling your clit, but it didn't last long as her other hand moved your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch her fingers get coated in your slick, how they toyed with the sensitive bud with just enough pressure to make you beg for more, how they circled your entrance soon after, making you clench around nothing.

"Ple- Please- mmn gods please.." Your voice was desperate, full of lust and the undying need to feel her inside of you. It wasn't something that didn't go unnoticed, two of her fingers thrusting into you soon after and making your hips buck into her touch.

"Watch the mirror, sweet girl.. You think you can do that for Mommy?" Her voice took over your senses and felt as though it was consuming you whole. It rang out like a low, velvety rumble with promises of more as each one of her hot breaths trailed against your skin.

Fuck..

"Yes- mm~ yes.." Your half-lidded eyes turned back to the reflection, your breasts rising and falling with each of your heavy breaths as more and more pleasure ran through your body. You watched as she thrusted in and out of you, her fingers curling in just the right spot to have moans flooding out from your mouth and into the dark evening.

"Such a good girl for me.. Taking Mommy's fingers so well.. Oh, look at you.." You could tell with how dark her eyes got, how husky her voice was that this was doing something to her as well. Your body at her mercy as she brought moan after moan to escape your lips. "Good girl.."

Each of her thrusts grew rougher, quicker in pace, and your thighs began to tremble with your impending orgasm. You did your best to watch the way her fingers fucked into you, disappearing with pleasure and watching them come all the way out again, only for the motion to repeat over and over.

Her fingers curled with precision, her other hand toying with your nipples and sending your body rushing towards a peak. You clenched around her fingers hard with each thrust, loving how they felt inside of you. It was all consuming, building up the coil in your abdomen until your peak crashed into you, wrecking through your body as her ministrations didn't stop.

Your body shook with pleasure, taking every new thrust she gave you as you turned into putty in her arms.. but you couldn't help but want.. crave.. need more.. And it seemed as though she had the same thoughts.

The sight of you coming undone in front of her was too much to bare, her own heat building itself up in her body and causing her desire for you to push itself forward. She shifted you onto the mattress, watching as she discarded her clothes after licking her fingers clean. The sight made a moan escape your lips, your own cum disappearing from the actions of her tongue and her pale skin becoming completely exposed to you made your mouth water.

She settled herself between your legs and you couldn't help but pull her down, crashing your lips into hers for an all consuming kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your tongues danced together as you both nearly begged to be impossibly closer.

You pulled away, your lips centimeters away from hers. Your voice was a whisper, but translated so much urgency, so much desire that you knew she would fold when the words left your lips. "Please, Mommy.. I need you.."

Any resolve that Larissa had left faded as you watched her eyes grow impossibly darker, swirling with a hunger that was near insatiable. A growl left her throat before her lips were on yours again, though the kiss didn't last long, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt her hard member press against your core.

You immediately rolled your hips against her, earning a broken moan from the tall blonde. She moved to position herself, then slowly pushed into your entrance. Loud, unadulterated groans left you both as she pushed herself deeper and deeper into you, the stretch quickly becoming a delicious addiction.

As she started to move, it was as though all that existed was her. Each breath you took filled your lungs with her perfume, quickly making you intoxicated and full of her. Each thrust rocked your body with a deep hunger, the sound of your skin slapping together and your moans filling the room only seemed to serve you pleasure in tenfold.

"Please, please, please- I-I need-" A moan tearing through your throat had cut off your next words, her pace growing faster with each beg you were able to shoot out. Each thrust took you to new heights as she pulled nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in all the way.

"You feel so good.. Look at you taking me so well.." Her breathing was labored, her words paired with moans as her own pleasure was building itself up. Your peaks were close, her nails digging into your hips to leave crescent marks there, both of your moans growing louder.

Your mind grew hazy with the feeling of her so deep inside you, the pleasure building the coil up again as a chase towards euphoria. With a few more thrusts, you came hard, your body shuddering as you clenched around her. Her actions only continued as she chased her own high, soon letting out a deep, loud moan and filling you up, just moments later.

Your heavy breaths filled the room, your skin coated in a layer of sweat as you both focused on coming down from your highs.

She shuffled and moved to lay next to you, pulling you into her arms and tracing invisible patterns along your back. After your breathing settled, you slowly opened your eyes to meet deep sapphire ones, a smile coming to both of your lips as only love was reflected back at you.

You shuffled closer, burying your head in the crook of her neck to place soft kisses against her neck and jawline before resting completely against your lover. Your hands found their home against her skin, and the darkness of night mixed with the comfort of your lover made sleep an easy world for the both of you to slip into.

~~

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: IMMMMM BACCCCCKK!!!!

YO IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG- the traveling got to me, and then finals season started, and then more traveling and a lot of other life things happened !!

BUT IM BACK AAHAHHAHHHH

this genuinely felt so good to write because i haven't even touched my writing in so long other that organizing everything in my notes to look better lmao

i know you all understand, and i couldnt be more grateful for that fact

here you go anon :,,,,))) im sosososo sorry for how long this took like holy fuck- i hope you enjoyed it

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

as always, feel free to ask to be added &lt;3

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

[thirstywoso]

Frustration | Niamh Charles x Reader

A/n: I haven't written a fic in around 7 years but after that "we are Chelsea" episode with Niamh I had to write this. It's not edited and it might not be very good but if you enjoy and want a pt2 or more fics send in your requests

Warnings: smut 18+ mdni

A little angst if you squint, fingering r receiving, oral r receiving, thigh riding, squirting, praise kink and masturbation

Word count: 3k

Let's go

Just like most days you were sat in the passenger seat of your girlfriends Skoda Enyaq, this time on your way to Jessie's new apartment for a bonding night with your other team mates.

Although you had your license Niamh preferred to be the designated driver in your relationship before you'd left your house you did insist to her that you we're more than capable of driving seeing as she had yet to drive around that part of Cobham. Just like you knew she would she declined and slipped into the drivers seat. Sighing defeatedly you huffed into your seat. Your girlfriend just smirking at you handing you the aux.

"Baby, you know you're my passenger princess and you are better at playing the car DJ" Niamh giggled.

"Fine!" You mocked offence.

Once down the road and into unfamiliar territory for Niamh you began to direct her telling her what lane to be in and when to signal even though she had the satnav on. She let you carry on a few times before huffing!

"Y/n/n, I've got it"

You knew she hated backseat drivers but you were just trying to be helpful, after a few moments singing along to one of the songs you had put on you'd all but forgotten not to direct Niamh's driving.

"You're in the wrong lane, Jessie's road is the last exit on the rounda... bout" you mumbled out the last part when you caught her eye and she had that stern look plastered on her face. You suddenly remembered what you had done, Niamh wasn't easily frustrated but you knew that was one of her pet peeves.

You could tell she'd stiffened up slightly where she was trying to keep calm and so you put your hand on her thigh and gave her a soft smile. She softened in your touch and smiled asking you to turn up the music as it was one of your favourite songs playing.

"Turning saints into the sea.." you sang in unison as you pulled up in front of Jessie's apartment noting some of your other team mates cars in the lot.

--

By now you had been at Jessie's for a few hours you'd all watched a movie, had eaten the pizza's you'd collectively ordered and had played some of the games as that's usually what you do at a games night.

You were currently playing Pictionary and you were on a team with Jessie whilst Niamh was with Guro, Aggie was with Cat and Zecira was with Nathalie. You and Jessie were winning by miles whereas Niamh and Guro weren't having as much luck. Yourselves mocking and teasing them, it was then you saw the way your girlfriends jaw clenched that she was genuinely annoyed at herself losing.

"Baby don't worry you'll do better next time" you laughed.

"Yeah baby, maybe we will go easy next time" Jessie mocked.

"Give over Jess, you know I could crush you any day of the week"

"Niamhy it's okay Jess was only kidding"

"Yeah Charles it's all good"

"Whatever, let's play a different game"

It wasn't often you drank considering you were a professional athlete much similar to the other girls in your presence, that's why at team bonding nights you all usually got carried away.

As it was getting later and you'd all had a fair bit to drink, Guro suggested that it would be fun to play a game of truth or dare. Which if it went the way it usually did would end in drama.

"Guro you have to go first as it was your idea, so truth or dare?" You questioned

"Hmm, dare"

After a few seconds of trying to come up with a dare for Guro, Aggie chimes in.

"I dare you to chug the rest of your drink"

"Easy" she retorted after swallowing her mouthful and tipping the now empty bottle upside down.

Zecira seemed slightly bored of the tame dares yawning slightly and took it upon herself to spice things up.

"Let's amp it up a little ladies, Jessie truth or dare?"

"Dare"

"I dare you to kiss y/n for at least 5 seconds"

"But.. Niamh"

"But.. but it's just a game Niamh won't care, will you Niamh"

"Sure go ahead" Niamh said nonchalantly, although when you looked at her to gauge how she was really feeling you could see a tinge of jealous behind the smile on her face.

"Fine"

With that Jessie leant over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly, before she had fully sank back to where she was sitting you pulled her back in for a slightly longer kiss which she reciprocated.

"Finally, that's what I'm talking about"

Zecira always loved in her words to 'liven the party'

After a few more rounds and the feeling of Niamh's eyes burning into you, it was your turn.

"I'm going to go with truth"

Nobody had asked you yet but you had already given licked whipped cream off of Guro's cheek and gave Niamh a lap dance which definitely did not start a fire down below for her and the blush in her cheeks was from the alcohol she was drinking and couldn't possibly be anything else. You saw a smirk appear on Zecira's face and almost regretted asking for a truth.

"Who's a better kisser Niamh or Jessie"

Everyone's heads whipped around to look at you, Niamh almost getting whiplash and Jessie's cheeks burning red. You hesitated to answer because it was such a silly question, well to you at least. You soon realised that maybe hesitating wasn't a great idea because Niamh soon got up and stormed out onto Jessie's balcony.

"Thanks Z"

You went out into the balcony and shut the door, Niamh didn't even turn to look at you, she knew you were there but in the moment she didn't even want to look at you.

"Why'd you hesitate y/n/n?"

"What..? Baby please don't be silly right now. I didn't answer because it's obvious, you're the best kisser out there.. not that I kiss other girls. I mean not that I haven't in the past but you know since you and me, me and you"

Niamh chuckled whilst she turned and cupped your cheek kissing you gently.

"Sweetie shh, I know. I just get jealous sometimes like maybe you could do better than me and Jessie is so amazing and after seeing you kiss earlier it just kind of hit a nerve"

You kissed her again in reassurance

"You know you're cute when you ramble though, I'm sorry I walked out. My emotions are just not as in check as I'd like them to be, what with your backseat driving, losing game night and seeing you kiss my best friend"

"You're just a sore loser Niamhy but you know I only ever want you"

"Well after that lap dance I really want you"

"I'm that good huh?"

"That good" she smirked

"How about we head home and we sort out how emotionally.. and sexually frustrated you are honey"

Niamh didn't need asking twice she grabbed your hand and dragged you back inside. Making some poor excuse about not feeling well and needing to go home and she will make it up to them. With that she shoved you out the door quickly following bundling you into a taxi home.

Your teammates looking at each other knowingly and giggling at Niamh's excuse this time because this happened most game nights.

When you got back home Niamh couldn't unlock the door quick enough, when you finally did get inside you both kicked your shoes off somewhere random on the floor as a tomorrow problem.

Within seconds Niamh had you over her shoulder carrying you to the bedroom, you knew all that extra time she was spending in weight training was paying off.

After kicking the bedroom door closed Niamh dropped you onto the bed making quick work of her clothes and nodding at you to do the same.

Soon both of your sets of clothes were discarded haphazardly on the floor, Niamh signalled for you to move up the bed. You pushed yourself back until your head rested on your pillows and Niamh crawled on the bed above you.

For a second you thought she was having doubts because she hoovered above you staring down admiring the way your lip tucked behind your teeth and your chest heaved with need.

"Baby, if you'd rather not tonight we can cuddle instead"

"NO" she practically yelled

"Sorry, no I want to but I just couldn't help but take you all in, I can't believe you're mine sometimes" admiration dripping off every word.

"Shut up" you giggled and gently slapped her arm. Which flexed under your touch causing your breath to hitch. Niamh smirked knowingly and with that pressed her thigh down into your centre leading to another gasp.

Before long her lips were back on yours deepening the kiss, feeling your tongue run gently against her lower lip. Sighing and relaxing into the kiss. Your fingers scratching gently and the nape of her neck and tangling in the fine hairs there.

Biting your lip and carefully pulling away, her lips attached themselves to your neck slowly trailing up and down sucking on your weak points. Her favourite was just below your ear where your jaw met your neck, she could spend all day there if you let her. Listening to the way your breathing sped up and the small whimpers you made.

Niamh kept her attention there for awhile before sinking lower, peppering your chest with lazy kisses before taking your left peak into mouth and gently sucking and rolling the bud with her tongue. She meant on her elbow and caressed your face whilst swapping to your right breast and paying it the same attention.

Her free hand snaking between your legs making you gasp as she hit the jackpot. Her finger teasingly fuming through your folds causing her to smirk against your chest, mumbling around your nipple causing the vibrations to stir something in your lower stomach.

"So fucking wet for me"

"All for you" your head stretched back against the pillow eyes screwed shut needing more. Tight circles started to be drawn around your clit before gliding back between your folds just before it became too much. She knew your body well and better than yourself sometimes.

Your hands soon found their way into her hair as she kissed her way down your toned stomach and along your inner thighs. She continued to tease you before looking up at you. Two of her digits circling your entrance, she gave you a questioning look which you answered with a small nod.

"Words baby, you know I don't find anything sexier than consent"

"I always want to make sure you enjoy what I do and that you want it as much as me"

"Please Niamhy"

With that she sunk two fingers into you, your back arched slightly and she pressed gentle kisses to your thigh as she worked herself into you. It didn't take long for her to find a comfortable rhythm and it helped with you being so wet.

Then came the sensation of her gently blowing against your clit which made your legs twitch. Before you knew it her tongue was gently aiding her fingers between your legs and darted out of her soft pink lips rapidly as she lapped at your sensitive bud.

Alternating between suckling and flicking her tongue over where you needed her most. More of your juices coated her fingers and with that she slipped in a third which was rewarded with a moan that ripped from deep inside you. Curling her fingers deep inside you whilst you grabbed and her hair pulling her impossibly closer.

"Good girl baby, you're such a good girl for me"

Niamh knew how much you loved being called a good girl during sex and it worked you felt yourself getting closer to your peak.

"That's it baby, you gonna cum for me"

"Pl..please"

"Go ahead"

With a few more thrusts you were coming apart underneath her moaning her name, which she would deny but was a massive ego boost for her.

She then kissed her way back up your body before using her hips to aid in thrusting her fingers harder into you.

"One more please baby"

Before you even had a second to think your eyes went white with pleasure and you felt yourself gush into Niamh's palm.

"Fuckkkkk"

She had the biggest dopiest shit eating grin on her face, so pleased with herself.

"I didn't know you could do that"

"Neither did I" you said shyly

"Please don't be embarrassed, that was so fucking hot"

Kidding you sweetly before asking if you were ready for her to pull out. When you nodded she removed her fingers making your legs twitch slightly as your pussy ached to me touched again after what happened next.

Niamh took her finger into her mouth swirling her tongue around them cleaning every last drop of you off of her digits.

Her lips reconnected with yours before you could even think of something to say, tasting yourself of her lips brought another rush of wetness to your core.

You flipped over your positions straddling Niamh's muscular thigh which she tensed below you. Her hands gently squeezing on your breasts as you ground down. Your sensitive nub bumping along each definition.

"You want more?"

You knew she wasn't judging you and was just more curious about your needs than anything.

"Almost there"

Your hips rutted against her becoming more staggered the closer you got. Collapsing back on top of her after your third orgasm. Groaning in her ear as you came down, only adding to the rush of wetness between her own thighs.

"Your turn" you mumbled sleepily

"Not tonight sweetie you're warm out, let me clean you up"

You didn't argue, you knew she was right and you were too tired to reciprocate. You weren't as worried as you would've been at the start of your relationship because you know that not every time is about give and take and some days it's just better to give than receive and visa versa. Although you'd never turn down your favourite meal. Niamh.

Whilst you were thinking about how lucky you were Niamh came back into the room with a wash cloth and some water for you which you happily sipped as Niamh carefully cleaned you up without trying to overstimulate you.

Once finished you cuddled up under the duvet, entwining your legs with Niamh's only for her to let out a little gasp as your leg connected with her centre by accident.

"What was that?"

"Nnnothing"

"It certainly didn't sound like nothing, you're still worked up aren't you?"

Niamh nodded her head but reiterated that she didn't want any reciprocation because she knew your body was exhausted.

"Fine, I won't touch you but I want you to touch yourself for me"

"Baby no, let's cuddle and get some sleep"

With that you gently cupped her discovering how wet she really was, she rolled her eyes in response.

"Please Niamhy, for me. I want to watch you get off for me"

Niamh didn't make an effort to move.

"It'll be incredibly hot knowing your thinking about me and then tomorrow it's my turn to treat you like a queen"

Niamh sighed knowing you wouldn't let up and knew it would be quicker to get it other with so you could go to sleep.

Niamh slid her fingers between her legs as you pulled back the duvet to watch. Her fingers slipped between her pretty pink lips and sunk into herself. She wasn't one for teasing when it came to herself. She had a job and she wanted to get it done.

"That's it baby add another for me, stretch out that tight pussy for me"

Niamh groaned as she added a second finger her brows furrowing and her lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated on your voice, you wrapped your hand around her wrist so you could feel closer to her enjoying the way her tendons flexed against your fingers with every thrust inside herself.

You didn't know where to look eyes darting back and forth between where her fingers disappeared and the concentrated and determined look on her face.

It didn't take long as she was so worked up

"Please can I cum baby?"

"Hmm I don't know"

"Don't fucking tease me, I'm so close! Please!"

You loved hearing her pleas and beg but tonight you just wanted to see her satisfied.

"That's it baby let go"

Niamh's head snapped back as she released. After a few minutes of catching her breath she disappeared to the bathroom cleaning herself up. She slipped into a pair of your training shorts and one of your old college tees. In return she brought you some of England shorts and a UCLA shirt Jessie had given to her one time after she'd gone back to visit.

She helped you into the clothes before laying down and pulling you onto her chest. Your head resting listing to her chest rise and fall rhythmically, your legs draped over hers. She kissed the top of your head and tucked you both under the duvet.

After awhile you thought she had fallen asleep as her breathing was shallow and steady.

"I love you Niamh"

"I love you too y/n"

"Now get some sleep"

[httpiastri]

already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't - with Liam Lawson

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: aaaaaa darling thank u so much for requesting, and thank u so much for requesting liam !!!!! hope you like it 🥺

3k celly !!

fake girlfriend!reader x best friend!liam lawson

in hindsight, you never should've agreed to this.

coming with liam, your best friend and the guy you've been head over heels in love with for years, to his sister's birthday dinner was already a bad idea on its own. but sitting there with him to act like his girlfriend?

pure stupidity, to be honest.

'of course', you had told liam when he first asked you to cover for him, after his long rant about how his parents kept on making fun of him for still being single, even at 22 years of age and even after being an f1 points scorer. 'i'd do anything for you'.

you've never regretted any words more, because now you find yourself at a table in some fancy restaurant, squeezed in between liam and holly, your cheeks already hurting with the forced smile you've been putting on all evening. your pulse probably hasn't gone below 200 in about an hour now, always awaiting some suspicious question or something to expose your act.

liam, however, feels the exact opposite. to him, it all feels very natural; having you near him, you smiling at him, looking like you're actually in love with him. he's adoring every second of this, even if it's just an act.

he senses your tenseness quite easily, though. he has always had a certain skill of picking up on your subtle cues. with what he hopes you understand is a genuine action, not just one for the show, liam reaches forward to your hand that's been tapping restlessly on the table, intertwining his fingers with yours.

the conversation liam is currently having with his sister is long forgotten in your mind now. did liam just grab my hand? is he actually holding my hand right now? we promised no more than the necessary pda-

liam almost lets out an involuntary chuckle at the way your eyes dart down to your laced hands, shoulders tensing up even more than before. but when your gaze then moves up to meet his, something feels even more strange – because why is he looking down at you like that? with so much tenderness, so much affection, so genuinely? is he really that good of an actor?

and as if all of that wasn't enough, your heart nearly stops when his hand gives you a soft squeeze.

a feeling you definitely can get used to.

("oh my god, you both are so cute!" holly's voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you look back at the birthday girl. "who would've known little liam could get himself someone so sweet?")

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝐊 𝐕-𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

welcome to the table of contents for my three-thousand followers celebration !!!

i’m amazed that we’ve reached this milestone, and so quickly at that! in under three months there were one thousand more of y'all !!! in that short period, i did succeed in staying active on tumblr and interacting with many of you—i got so many requests that i’m STILL working my way through, i’ve chatted to some of you through my inbox, and dm’s or replies, and i will forever be grateful for the endless support, laughs, and encouragement y’all have offered me.  sending love to my moots: ilysm. thank you for any bit of chatting you’ve had with me—i really do cherish every one of you, no matter how small or large our interaction has been. extremely happy to call you my moots < 3. @biancathecool @barnestatic @ashiekins @saintslewis @lorarri @ham1lton @loomiscorpse @vetteltea @hookhausenschips @shurisasthmaticgf @mauvecherie-writes @omgsuperstarg @justaf1girl @emjayewrites (i'm sorry if i've forgotten someone, i love you dearly, i promise x) and, of course, a huge ily & tysm to the members of the taglists! i would tag you here but there are too many of you (pls i love y'all down < 3) and it would break the post :)

i mainly write fem!black/poc!readers so if you would like another race/ethnicity for the !reader please send that in your request! please feel free to send a faceclaim too! i accept male! & gn!reader requests as well!

before sending your request check for: an approved driver(s) from the mechanic list below, you've specified which prompt list and number you are selecting, and that you've adhered to the blog guidelines !!!

accepting requests for this event from february 1st to 14th.

please send all requests here through an ask with the "#3k vday celly" included.

read the completed 3k vday celly fics here.

i can’t promise that i will be able to answer every ask, but i will try my hardest to do as many as i can. i love you all and thank you so much, loves. xoxox

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🚗 let’s take a look! — send me the @ of someone you want to show love to! it can be absolutely anyone: a writer, a moot, a friend, or a funny blog you love !!! be the positivity we all want to receive :)

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🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

🛢️ 3,000 miles: time for an oil change! — send me a driver and a random word/theme/vibe (literally !!! any word/theme/vibe) and i’ll make a tiny social media au for you !!!

🧽🪣 would you like a complimentary car wash? — send me any five (5) drivers and one (1) kink from this list, and i will rank the drivers in order of who i think is most to least likely to participate/avoid, or love/hate that kink !!! each driver will have a small blurb written xxx

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© httpsserene — photos used in header are from pinterest. mdni divider from @cafekitsune.

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed.  Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried.  Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again. 

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name. 

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip. 

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you. 

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included. 

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?” 

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat. 

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

You don't answer. 

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?” 

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?” 

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him. 

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times. 

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?” 

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath. 

“Yoongi?” 

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. 

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in. 

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers. 

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please” 

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want. 

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.” 

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…” 

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again. 

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.” 

“You want some help with that?” 

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly. 

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.” 

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth. 

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm. 

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat. 

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea. 

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.” 

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then. 

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.” 

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[     afterhours(y/n):     Thank you for the birthday wishes!     I indeed got a nice present, don't you think?            [ picture ]                                                                          ]

[    SugaD:     Unbelievable 😻     Can we do something for my birthday too?                                                                                                                   ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

candle light with remus lupin for your eclipse event! maybe something where he's mean but also does good good aftercare? LUV UR WRITIING <3

thank youuu, and thank you for requesting! really hope you like it!!

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader tags / warnings: established relationship, smut (NSFW, MDNI), fluff word count: 3k part of my 1k celebration!

You are exhausted. You’re tense; you’re tired as you come home after what’s felt like a  week, not a day. Too much to do, too much pressure, too many decisions. You feel them in your body, weighing you down. The first thing you do as you enter your bedroom you share with Remus is strip down to your knickers. You toss your bra away with perhaps a little bit too much resentment and find your favourite of Remus’s jumpers you like to borrow. It’s too big on either of you.

You head to your kitchen, putting on a record so sad it’s somehow consoling as you do. As you start making yourself a comforting cup of tea, you hear the door behind you. 

“Hi, lovely.” 

It’s his voice that’s lovely, and just the sound of it has already begun thawing your tension. 

“Hey,” you say back as you feel him approach behind you, his arms coming around your middle. They’re warm and firm, and you sink back into his body. You feel him breathe in your hair, kiss the side of your head. “Remus,” you whine into him. He hums into your neck in response, placing a soft kiss there. His squeezes you tightly, his hands bunching up the jumper you’re wearing. “Hmm. Sad music, cosy jumper, earthy tea, whiny voice,” he lists sympathetically. “Someone’s had a long day.”

“You’ve no idea.” His large hands come to your shoulders, kneading deeply. You squirm at the intensity, pain and pleasure dancing inextricably. At a knot a bit too sensitive for his ministrations, you flinch out of his grasp and step back, turning to face him. You expect to be met by his beguiling brown eyes, but they’re look down. His head cocks to the side appreciatively. You realize he’s admiring your bare legs and chuckle. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” “Doesn’t mean I like it any less,” he retorts, voice gruffer. He looks you up and down with an intensity that dissipates any playfulness in your mood. You realize how badly you want him to take you, to make you leave the day behind you and completely envelop you in the here and now… and the pleasure it could hold. 

Remus can’t read your mind, though, and being the doting boyfriend he is, he comes to hold you gently again, stroking your back, trying to comfort you. “Let’s get you relaxed, huh, baby?” he says, kissing your forehead. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“What do you want to do? Want to go straight to bed? Watch something? We could read together? Same book or different, you choose.” He’s already taken over preparing your tea, seemingly completely distracted away from your body. 

His suggestions and demeanour make you think maybe he’s not in the mood, Remus never being shy to tell you when he is, so you worry maybe it’s not the best moment to voice your honest desires. 

“I don’t know, whatever; you choose.” You sound a bit defeated, and he looks over at you at your tone. “No, you should. I’m happy with anything if it’s good for you, really,” he says as he turns back to the easy work of pouring the hot water. He’s always this sweet, almost always defers to doing whatever you feel like doing. 

It’s no fault of his, but your looming tiredness, your sudden heat, it all makes you snappy. “I said I don’t care, Rem. Why do I always have to be the one to choose everything? Sometimes I’m tired, okay? And I already said you can choose.” The mugs are forgotten, his attention fully on you at this. “Woah, what’s up?” He leans back on the counter, arms crossed a bit defensively, but eyes all concern. 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” You turn away and busy yourself with anything you can find, tidying up mindlessly. “Hey, c’mon, love, what’s up?” His voice is slightly harder, and as he asks, he turns you to face him, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. His eyes look searchingly into yours, but your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands on you and the sound of his deep voice. You bite your lip and whimper very very softly.

His hands immediately leave you, and it’s urgent when he rushes out, “Woah, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, baby; I just wanted to talk. You alright?”

You nod and whine “Remus” again, stepping toward him and looking into his eyes. You grab his hands in yours and place them back on your body. You bring one to your face and lean into it, put the other on your hip and squeeze your hand over his. 

He’s watching you closely, letting you guide him. 

His proximity and his touch, even like this, heat you up, and your body pushes you to honesty.

“I don’t want to sleep, or  read, or any of that. And I don’t want to choose anything or think about anything else. I want you, Rem. I just want you. Please.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and ever so slowly he starts moving his own hands on you, yours still hovering above them. 

His touch makes you melt, and your eyes shut. You exhale loudly as his hand grabs your face a bit harder. His thumb strokes, pushing into the skin of your cheek. You open your eyes and meet his. They’re looking at yours searchingly, but upon seeing the look you’re giving him when they connect with yours, something clicks in Remus. You register it in his eyes as they shift in what seems like one blink from keen observation to piercing intensity. 

He pulls your face to his forcefully, devouring your mouth. He’s eating up your immediate whimpers, tilting your head with his hands on either side of your face, pushing your tongue with his and licking into your mouth. You surrender completely and let him guide your ardent kiss. 

Soon, his hand juts your head back with no warning, tugging your hair, and his mouth moves from yours to your jaw, kissing sloppily until he reaches your neck, where he plants a cruel bite. You yelp, and he licks over it soothingly, but his voice is rough as he asks, “This what you want?” His mouth sucks your neck harshly, and his hands push under your jumper and grip the flesh of your hips so hard your body sways with his motions. 

“Fuuuck, Rem, yes, pleeease.” “Yes what?” he snaps. “Yes, I want this. I want you to touch me like this.” 

“Good,” he utters matter-of-factly. 

He tugs the jumper over your head and throws it aside then maneuvers your body with his strong hands on your hips. 

“Turn around,” he commands. And you do, though his hands flip you without your having much say in it. 

His arms wrap around you, and he kneads your breasts roughly. He handles you so harshly that you yelp again in pleasured pain. 

Remus presses his body up behind your now almost completely naked one. You feel his breath on your neck and shoulder, and you shiver as sensation shoots down your spine. You’re very pleasantly surprised to also feel his already hard cock on your arse even through his trousers. You push back into it and grind. He groans in reaction then chuckles gruffly into your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re desperate, huh?” He squeezes your tits and thrusts his hips. His voice low and ominously even, he tells you, “You know, baby, all you had to do was tell me you wanted me to fuck you.” You whimper; he chuckles again. “Yeah? You want to get fucked, pretty girl?” You nod wordlessly. “I wanted to fuck you as soon as I came in here and saw your gorgeous thighs.” Never breaking contact with your skin, his hands slide down your body and squeeze the outsides of your thighs. Then they cup your arse and squeeze even tighter, jiggling it in his rough grip. “You looked so fucking sexy. But I thought you were tired. Silly me, huh, not realizing how you wanted me to take care of you. This how you want me to take care of you?” 

“Yees.” “Hmm.” 

Your head is lolled back on his shoulder, but he pushes you suddenly forward. “Bend over.” You do. The kitchen counter is cold on your tits; his hand is hot on your back, pushing you down. 

His other hand yanks your knickers down and rubs roughly through your folds. You’re soaked. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles. “Wanting to get fucked this badly.”

Without ado, he pushes two fingers into you. You scream at the breach, at the first hot graze of your inner walls. He rubs them around then curves them toward your sweet spot. His pace is immediately punishing, and it’s not too many thrusts later that he adds a third finger. Your cunt is squelching as his fingers fuck you. His hand on your back moves up toward your neck and massages your shoulder as he holds you in place.

He keeps going, pushing so hard the fronts of your thighs smack the counter with each thrust, so fast that it’s hard to discern the increasing shaking of your thighs from the motions of his hand.

You whine, and turn your face into the counter to quiet it. His hand at your neck yanks your hair to lift your face. “Uh-uh, pretty thing. I’ve had enough of you being quiet tonight. If I’m going to fuck you this good, you’re going to let me hear how I make you feel.” You whimper involuntarily, doing nothing to filter your loud reaction. “Better.”

Your thighs are seriously shaking now, and you’re tightening deliciously. You’re getting close. 

His hand stops and pulls out of you, the other also releasing his grip on your hair. Your resulting whine sounds almost like you’re crying. 

“Fuck, baby, relax,” Remus laughs. You hear the zipper of his trousers, hear the soft pat of clothes falling to the floor. His foot kicks yours into a wider stance suddenly. Then you feel his hard cock prodding at your warm, wet entrance. One of his hands grips your hip harshly as he guides himself in. He’s slightly slower as he does, but he pushes all the way in without stopping. When he’s completely inside you, you whimper again at the fullness and barely hear him whisper “fuck.” 

Just a second later, he’s thrusting; a few seconds later, it’s already rocking your entire body from the intensity. His grip tightens, and you know you’ll admire a bruise there tomorrow. His other hand grabs your shoulder for better leverage as he pistons in and out of you. 

You’d already been so close that at the fucking he’s giving you, you feel close to the brink before even adjusting entirely to the position. Your hands flat on the counter, uselessly attempting to grip something, give you some stability as your body spasms jarringly. 

“Fuck, already?” Remus pants. His tone seems sincerely surprised, not teasingly so. 

He moves his hand to your other hip, vice-like grip pulling your arse onto his body in time with each fast, forward thrust of his hips. 

He’s the one to moan loudly this time as your walls clench him. His prolonged moan sounds like it’s strangled in his throat as you clench again and again, but though it’s clearly wrecking him, the only effect on his pace is its increased brutality. 

You start cumming in earnest, crying through it, shaking hard. Remus fucks you through most of it, but toward the very end, you feel him pull all the way out quickly, the absence jarring and gaping. His fingers pick up what his cock was just doing, and the sudden re-intensity gives you a second peak. He keeps going until your clenching cunt has mostly relaxed then slowly removes his fingers. 

Your body feels heavy and limp, its only movement the harsh up and down of your heavy panting. When Remus’s hands maneuver you to lift your torso and turn you around, you’re very little help. You feel unstable on your legs, but Remus safely holds you up. “Why’d you —” you start, your voice an exhausted whisper.

“Shut up,” he says, words hard, tone soft. He’s panting too, looking sweaty and spent. “Jump.” You’re confused, but your body heeds his command as his hands lift your arse up till you’re sitting on the counter. His hands grab the backs of your thighs and lift them up and out. You fall back slightly at the shift and end up resting on your forearms looking up at him. You rest your foot on the counter when his hand drops your leg so he can use it to guide himself back inside you.

He slips in easily but takes a moment to settle once he does. His eyes closed, chin lifted, chest rising and falling heavily. He looks so beautiful. 

When he’s gathered himself, he shifts as close to you as he can and guides you up toward him too. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms support you as you hold on to the counter’s edge. His support you, too, wrapped around your waist.  

His forehead comes to yours, and he kisses you sloppily as his hips start thrusting again, more slowly this time. One arm still anchoring you, his other hand comes to your face, holding it as he keeps kissing you. His breathing picks up again as his hips do.

Face still close to yours, he confesses, “I know you wanted it rough, but I really felt like looking at you when I came this time.” “Fuck, Rem.” You kiss him hard and clench him harder. He groans and picks up his pace, clearly getting tired but chasing an approaching high. 

His hand slips between your bodies, pushing you the slightest angle away from him so he can rub at your clit. Your cunt spasms at the sensation, and you hear his breath catch. 

He presses harder, establishes a rhythm, gradually making it faster. You’re close again at his adept touch, and you chant his name desperately as you shake your hips and push over your edge. His strangled moan tells you he’s cumming before the feel of it between your legs does, his dark, aching eyes on you the whole time. Once he starts slowing down, you wrap your arms tightly around him and nestle into his neck. He kisses you everywhere he can reach: your cheek, your neck, your shoulder. 

When he pulls apart from you, you shiver. You’re covered in sweat, and as he pulls his softening cock out of you, the wetness there is even worse. You wrap your arms around yourself and clench your thighs together. 

“Here, baby,” Remus says, running for a clean towel, dampening it before standing in front of you again. Very gently, he pushes your thighs apart again, stroking one soothingly as he cleans between your legs. When he’s done, he wraps you in a hug to bring you down off the counter, supporting you while you find you balance after your legs being rendered jelly.

“C’mere.” He holds you as he walks you to your bedroom. “You want to shower?” “‘M too tired. Can I shower in the morning?” “‘Course, lovely. Whatever you want.” “Ugh.” “What is it?” “I need to pee.” Remus giggles at you as he guides you toward the bathroom instead of the bed. 

“I can’t pee with you staring at me like that,” you complain when he just leans on the sink as you try to go. “I’m not staring; I’m admiring.” “Ok, I can’t pee with you admiring me like that.” He laughs again and turns around dramatically. He takes the opportunity to clean himself up.

You do what you need to do but stay sitting on the toilet even after you’ve finished, feeling too tired to get up. Remus dampens your hand towel and squats in front of you. He dabs at your face gently, freshening it up. You close your eyes at the soothing sensations of being cleaner and of being doted on. When he’s done your whole face and neck, he pecks your nose before getting up. “You planning on sleeping here or what?” he teases. “‘M tired,” you moan. “C’mon, lovely girl,” he chuckles, yanking you up. You finish cleaning up then follow him to bed, plopping down onto it. He hasn’t stopped giggling at your antics. “Want clothes?” “Just knickers please.” He tosses you a clean pair, slips into his own pants, then falls into bed with you. He shifts your body into a reasonable position and pulls the covers over you. Resting on his side, propped up on his elbow, his other hand starts stroking your bare skin lovingly. “You okay, sweet girl?” “Hmmm.” He kisses your forehead. “I know you’re sleepy, but just tell me if you’re okay. Nothing hurts or anything?” “No, Rem, I feel great.” You smile up at him without opening your eyes. You can’t see him looking down at you like you’re the most precious person in the world. To him, you are. “’S like my whole body is sinking and floating at the same time.” He chuckles adoringly and kisses you again, cuddling up beside you. “Good.” “Hmm.” You’re sinking into sleep but whisper giddily, “Thanks for fucking me.” He barks a full laugh. As it quiets to back to his giggle, he brings his face to yours. He nuzzles your nose with his and kisses your cheek. “Always happy to take care of my girl.” He kisses you again. “It was fun. Good for you? What you wanted?” “Mmhmm,” you nod. “Just what I wanted.” You use what little energy you have left to shift closer to him. “Now I want your cuddles.” “Always happy to take care of my girl,” he says again, more softly this time, as he wraps his arms around you snugly and kisses your forehead. 

You settle into each other, and the rise and fall of his breathing, the graze of his petting fingertips are the last things you feel as you drift into sleep.

[giselleloversclub]

jeno fics rec !

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

@thatsatricky1

Y/n didn’t have a lot going for her, rising student loan debt, a shared dodgy apartment and a shitty bank job that didn’t pay well. Could her life get any more downgraded? Apparently it could, in the form of a group of well known bank robbers deciding the bank she worked at was the perfect and simplest heist they could do for a change.

wc: 2k

! its just the preview i couldn't find the entire fic but just the preview is already too good !!

personal fav !

RIDIN' WITH YOU

@luvyeni

request. Can I request a biker jeno where the reader is almost ran over by him on a motorcycle and they start knocking into each other from there

streetracer!jeno x fem!reader

wc. 5.7k

! smut !

VOGUE LIKE THE LEE'S

wc : 3.3k

Genre: fluff, some angst, suggestive

lee jeno x carrie (oc)

SUMMER OF LOVE @lattaeyongs

The summer of 1997 was a weird time. As a person living in the modern era, you’d completely forgotten what it was like to live in the ‘90’s. In May 1997, you listened to the Backstreet Boys, flipped through TV Guide, and had an answering machine which seems so archaic now. But that isn’t the only reason why the summer of 1997 was weird. That summer was the time you fell for your brother’s best friend.

word count: 15.2k

personal fav !

MY FIRST AND LAST @leejenowrld

meet lee jeno, campus heartbreaker, fuckboy, secret nerd. he’s the notorious guy that everyone wants but he only wants you —a shy, introverted stranger who appeared from nowhere, turning his life upside down. what starts as a reputation-defying connection swiftly evolves from strangers to friends and to intense, immediate love. it’s a twist the two of you never saw coming, the opening of your hearts to someone unexpected. but as personal struggles and external issues threaten to derail your connection, the once-confident jeno is left shattered and ensnared in the tumult of a love story gone awry.

wc :37k

ALL NIGHT LONG

@writemekpop

You’re pregnant, and the baby’s kicking makes it impossible to sleep. Luckily, Jeno knows just how to take care of you.  

Word count: <1k

AFTER ALL THIS TIME

@leejenowrld

you run into jeno, your ex, at a college party. despite a tough breakup, the spark between you never faded. after a night of reconnecting and reigniting, you realize some feelings are too deep to ever truly go away.

wc : 8.2k

! smut !

CRUSH CULTURE

@lulujeno

liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.

wc : 6.3k

LOVE IN A JAR

jeno loves you so much, it is hard for him not to find you in the smallest of things that surround him. he never thought he could taste love, until he fell in love with you.

bf!jeno x female!reader

wc : 1.7k

YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE PT2

@slytherinshua

fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au.

wc: 1.5k

fiancé!jeno x reader.

WHEN IT CLICKS

@lelengerine

jeno x reader

friends to lovers

wc: 1k

MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE ?

@cupofwyn

it was all self-inflicted pressure when the spotlight finally turned to you as the final member of the family to experience a love story—the miracle that has been passed down from your parents down to your siblings and the privilege of love in marriage that has been jealoused upon the ton of high society. though the world might have run out of love stories available for you when your family took it all to their delight, or so you thought.

⠀lee jeno!prince × fem!reader

wc : 10.3k

WASTED ON YOU

@ericscroptop

after a fun night out, your boyfriend takes care of you like the gentleman he is.

wc : 3.4k

bf! jeno x gf! reader

PRIVET BUT NOT SECRET @hhie

instagram story au ?

jeno x reader established relationship

SILVER PLATTER

@odxrilove

when you get confessed to in front of your friends and band members, not everyone seems to think it's funny.

jeno x fem reader

wc : ~3k

RISK PT2

@saythenametotheworld

Firmly convinced that Love-at-First-Sight is a hoax, you never expected to be proven wrong when the universe decided to throw you, quite literally, into Lee Jeno's lap.

Lee Jeno x Reader

wc : 14.7k

[slytherinshua]

DECKS THE HALLS : slytherinshua's holiday/3000 follower event.

back to main pinned

note : so we are not quite at 3000 followers yet BUT we are 19 away as i type this (now officially surpassed 3k!!!!!!!!), so i decided to just post this event not as a joint holiday and milestone celebration because i'm super excited about this !! thank you so much for 3k, i love every single one of you and hope that you will enjoy participating in this event and reading the fics that come out of it 🥹🥹🥹

rules : pick 1 idol from the list below along with 1 prompt. the idol list is organized in group name alphabetical order for easy navigation. after you have picked your idol and prompt, send in an ask with your request (ex. taehyun with #1, fresh flowers). i will cross off both lists as the requests fill up (no duplicate idols or prompts will be accepted, and no requests with multiple prompts listed will be accepted). a drabble will be written for as many requests as i can handle. you are welcome to send in multiple requests, but be aware that not all may be able to be completed. (i would appreciate if second requests be sent in a separate ask from the first ones so it's easy to keep track of). with all that being said, thank you so much for 3000 followers i love you all <3

disclaimer : there may not be every idol from a group on the list. this is either because i don't feel as confident writing for them, or i'm simply not as inspired to write for them as other members. it is not because i love the member less than the others.

ampers&one - na kamden, choi jiho, mackiah mercer, or kim seungmo

astro - lee dongmin, park minhyuk, or yoon sanha

cix - kim yonghee, bae jinyoung, or yoon hyunsuk

lucy - shin yechan, choi sangyeop, jo wonsang, or shin gwangil

mcnd - song minjae, no huijun, or bang junhyuk

nct wish - oh sion or kim daeyoung

nomad - hong doeui, shin kangsu, or jeong junho

onf - kim hyojin, lee changyun, lee seungjun, shim jaeyoung, park minkyun, or mizuguchi yuto

seventeen - wen junhui, jeon wonwoo, or xu minghao

sf9 - kim youngbin, lee jaeyoon, lee sanghyuk, baek juho, kim seokwoo, yoo taeyang or kim youngkyun

the boyz - kim younghoon, jacob bae, kevin moon, or choi chanhee

tomorrow x together - choi yeonjun, kang taehyun, or hueningkai

tws - shin junghwan, han zhen, or han jihoon

verivery - lee dongheon, jo gyehyeon, ju yeonho, kim yongseung, or yoo kangmin

victon - han seungwoo, kang seungsik, lim sejun, choi byungchan, or jung subin

wayv - qian kun, ten lee, or liu yangyang

&team - koga yudai, byun euijoo, nakakita yuma, asakura jo, takayama riki, or hirota riki

1 - fresh flowers

2 - sprigs of lavender

3 - folded laundry

4 - crackling fireplace

5 - bright snow

6 - shining northern lights

7 - minty breath

8 - smudged lipstick

9 - matching rings

10 - pastel sundresses

11 - wet swimsuits

12 - hand-knitted hats

13 - ripped boxing gloves

14 - matching tattoos

15 - unspoken promises

16 - dry aged wine

17 - freshly brewed coffee

18 - burnt toast

19 - smooth piano keys

20 - tear stains on a pillow

21 - warmth of skin

22 - gleaming gemstones

23 - ointments and bandages

24 - scarred hands

25 - cuts and bruises

26 - a sharp sword

27 - a rusty dagger

28 - a torn dress

29 - a velvet suit

30 - a stolen jersey

31 - a scuffed motorcycle helmet

32 - a computer screen’s light reflected onto skin

33 - a closet under the stairs

34 - a comforting embrace

35 - a hand-written birthday card

36 - a spell unknowingly cast

37 - a secret heir to the throne

38 - a hot bullet

39 -a favour done in secret

40 - a flood of memories once forgotten

41 - a flushed face and breathless body

42 - a hint of perfume

43 - an empty basketball court lit by street lights

44 - soap suds slipping down one’s shoulder

45 - combing a hand through one’s hair

46 - arms clasped around one’s waist

47 - hands chilly from the cold

48 - thumbs running over one’s jawline

49 - rain running down a cold cheek

50 - knots worked out of one’s shoulder

51 - waking up from a bad dream

52 - huddling under one blanket together

completed fics :

1 - hueningkai + gleaming gemstones

2 - wonwoo + arms clasped around one's waist

3 - jun + thumbs running over one's jawline

4 - jo + bright snow

5 - sangyeop + scarred hands

6 - minghao + a scuffed motorcycle helmet

7 - euijoo + a stolen jersey

8 - yudai + rain running down a cold cheek

9 - kangmin + a hot bullet

10 - yangyang + matching tattoos

11 - mackiah + pastel sundresses

12 - kamden + a favour done in secret

13 - sion + waking up from a bad dream

14 - hanjin + ointments and bandages

15 - jinyoung + smudged lipstick

16 - jihoon + a comforting embrace