#also i know this is exactly what They Want. but also like there are some things where it’s like yeah i could stick it to em but also i would

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ lee felix one shoot.

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / idol!felix / felix x fem reader / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

wc: 5.1k

one shoot (masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going greate for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

—The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

—It's this way, boys —your partner, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

—And y/n, right? —he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

—I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead —he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

—You can start to separate and see freely —you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

—Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together —Chan answered with a nervous smile.

—Well, if you like, we can start here…. —you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

—Here, me! —you showed her your ID quizzically— What's going on?

—What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

—After party, with who?

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

—Well, who are you working for.

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

—Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.

—And what time do you leave? —Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

—Just now… —you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

—Perfect —said Chan in a thick accent with a smile.

—Now you work for us, let's go to the after party —spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

—We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now —Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

—Can you come with me? —he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

—I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

—Felix… —you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

—If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

—Why would I fuck and tell...? —you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

—You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me —he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

—Get on your knees, beautiful.

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

—Use your pretty mouth.

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

—I think we need to get rid of that dress —he said trying to catch his breath— I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

—Look at me —he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

—Uh-mm —you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

—I'm going to cum, Fe… —you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

—I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

—Shit, I don't have a condom —he said in annoyance.

—It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

—I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

—Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

—Say it.

—Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.

—You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

—So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

—No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.

—Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it? —he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

—Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here —he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

#lee felix smut #skz smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix x reader #kpop smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #skz felix #felix hard thoughts

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello! i know there's a lot of jealous astarion x tav stuff out there, but could you do a jealous tav x astarion scenario please? maybe also make it spicy??

Astarion x jealous!reader

There were very few moments for all of you to relax and take a breath these days. With the quakes getting stronger, the cult getting closer, and just Gods knew what else around the corner, it was difficult to find some time to recharge. But, you all always seemed to eventually find the time.

Down at one of the taverns, you and the group decided to break loose and have some drinks for the night. Gale and Halsin didn’t want to come. Halsin still abstain from alcohol, along with his vague comments on ‘past mishaps and making a fool of himself’ (which honestly just made it all the more intriguing), and Gale just wanting to turn in early for the night. With everything going on with Mystra recently, more and more he had been pulling back to think by himself, but assured you he would be himself again soon enough.

Karlach usually tagged along, but just wasn’t feeling crowds at the moment. It would be more strange for Laz’el to come. And Wyll had come for the start of the evening but left after one drink as he was a responsible young man.

All that was left was you, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“This wine tastes like cat piss.”

“You’ve tasted cat piss?” You clip back. Wittier than usual now that you had a few drinks.

Astarion gave you a dull, “ha ha,” before he got up and headed for the bar to get a different vintner offering from the bar keep. “Maybe I’ll splurge a little a spend a whole 3 gold to get something a little better than the swill the rest of you are used to.”

“How people ever found him charming enough to be lured to their death will always be a mystery to me?” Shadowheart remarked before taking a sip of mead from her cup.

You chuckle at her joke and watch as Astarion made his way to the bar. Weaving in between the crowd like he was made more of mist & air, rather than flesh and blood.

Alone, you and Shadowheart chat quietly at your table before she finished her drink, dabbed her lips, and announced, “I’m going head back and turn in with the others. I trust that you and Astarion will make it back alright on your own?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well…I wouldn’t judge if the two of you wanted to spend sometime alone. We’re usually in such close quarters together that I’m sure it’s hard to be alone with someone special.” You blush at Shadowhearts comment. Not nearly as blunt as Laz’el but also not at all subtle. “Although, perhaps he has other plans for the evening?”

You follow her eyes over to the bar. Finding Astarion instantly, but also the pretty human girl hanging on his every word; and nearly him. Astarion, for his part, not seeming nearly as put off as someone in a relationship should be by her flirtation.

“I’ll take my leave now. I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever this is turning into. If it turns out for the good, be safe and have fun. If it turns out for the worse, well…try not to get us all arrested by morning.”

She gave a small way and saw herself out of the bar. Leaving you there with your thoughts, warm ale, and a stewing feeling of dread in your gut. You try to calm yourself. But you weren’t exactly the best at tamping down your impulsive thoughts. They had gotten you this far, hadn’t they? Perhaps they could take you a little further as you went up to the bar. “Shadowheart went home.”

Astarion and his new playmate both turn to you in surprise. The former looking genuinely surprised, while the woman looked more annoyed than surprised by your interruption. “Oh. Was she feeling alright? It’s rather early.”

“Yes! The night is still young.” The woman’s hand landed on his arm, and you glare daggers at the spot it landed. Wishing for real daggers. “But, if your friend isn’t feeling well, maybe you should go and check on her.”

She was trying to muscle you out. Eliminate the competition. As far as she knew Astarion wasn’t attached, or maybe she didn’t care, so your presence is an obstacle to her goal of claiming the handsome stranger. You had to admire her boldness. You don’t think you could ever be so confident to just ‘lay claim’ to a man you had only just met and make your stance known. If it had been anyone else she claimed you would have been impressed and supportive. Women helping women. Problem was this was your man and she was competition that needed to be eliminated.

“I think I’m going home too.” You pressed further.

“But I just ordered my wine.” Astarion quipped. Seeming not to get your hint at all. But the woman did.

“Yes. We’ve just freshened our drinks.” The vampire turned his gaze to the woman with a sharp arch of his brow. Clearly communicating ‘who is this ‘we’ you speak of’ with no words at all. “Why don’t you run after your friend and he’ll see you later. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”

“Oh….”

“I’m out of here.” You didn’t bother listening to whatever excuse, silken words, or outright lies Astarion was going to tell this hell cat to get out of the hole he just dug himself, but you weren’t interested in watching him dig.

Slamming your empty mug on the counter, you turn and head for the door. Everyone parting ways for you with the mood you were in. The cold air to your face was sobering, literally, and you shrug your shoulders in as you head down the dark streets towards the inn for the night. If you walked fast enough maybe you could actually catch Shadowheart on the way.

“[Y/N]! Wait!”

You turn to look over your shoulder as Astarion called your name. Coming out of the tavern with a skid and dashing over to meet the space between you. “Where are you going? Are you really going to leave?”

“Would you rather I sit there and watch that woman paw all over you?” You jab back. But Astarion didn’t seem wounded.

“Oh that. Yes. Rather forward for a lady wasn’t she?”

“So why didn’t you stop her??”

“I don’t know.” He replied with a shrug. “Old habits.”

You huff and pull your arms in tighter against the cold. Maybe you had been wrong in assuming that Astarion thought of ‘loyalty’ the same way you did. You trusted him with your life, but maybe you couldn’t trust him in a bar. You didn’t genuinely think that he would go off with her, but even the hint of implication made your blood boil. “I get they might be ‘old habits’ but if you could not flirt with people, I would appreciate it.”

A grin slithered up on Astarion’s face. “Are you…jealous, my love?”

“No!” You snap back quickly. But his grin just gets bigger.

“Hmm…I guess it’s understandable. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve started a cat fight in a bar, you know? I just never thought you of all people would be swayed by such petty emotions.”

“I’m going home.”

You turn your back on him again, which was the worst thing to do on a vampire, and you felt him snatch you before you were suddenly in a dark alley all alone together. “I get jealous too.” He told you. Almost like a whispered confession. Able to be quiet now that you were away from the crowd, and the streets, and the noise. “I get jealous seeing you with the others. The attention you give them. It should be for me.”

“They’re just friends.” You whisper back to Astarion. Feeling as if any louder and you’d break this spell between you in the moment. You didn’t know what kind of spell it was, but you were transfixed in it.

“I get jealous of all the strangers you want to help. Literally anyone who needs help, you help them. That big heart. Where will I be, if you keep opening it up to others?”

You gasp when you felt his hand drift over your ‘heart’. “I’ll always have space for you Astarion. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

“I get jealous of your bedroll.” His words caught you off guard. Almost as much as his teeth at your ear. “Curled up with you. Holding your body all night. Keeping you warm. It should be me.”

“You’ve never mentioned it.”

You can’t feel your breath come out in a little pant as you spoke. Enamored by Astarion and his weight against you and the wall. “We should…find some place private.”

“Here is private.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear his grin and it made your knees quiver. “Someone could see us.”

“No one will see us.” He assured you. “I’ve used this alley before.”

It was probably not the best time to bring up his past conquests when you had just had a conversation about jealousy. Or perhaps it was. Instead of feeling angry like earlier, you suddenly felt the incredible urge to erase every memory Astarion had of this alley, this place, those people, and fill him with only thoughts of you. That there were no other conquests until he claimed you.

Jealousy seemed quite the aphrodisiac. It might not have been the ‘privacy’ Shadowheart had mentioned when she made her comment. But it was fun. And no one got arrested.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #baldur's gate #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #bg3 imagine #bg3 scenarios #gender neutral reader

[lure-of-writing]

Little Sister: Are you going to tell her or should I?

Summary: Morrigan forces Azriel to make a choice. Either she is going to tell you or he is

Word count: 2.7k

part one, part two, part three, part four , part five

The rumbling ground beneath his feet was one indicator of what was about to come. The other indicator was the shaking paintings that were hung on the wall. Rhys may be the most powerful high lord to ever exist but your power easily rivaled his own. In anticipation of your arrival the quill pen that had just been in use was placed gently on the desk right next to the piece of paper it was just being used on. The force of the heavy wood doors being blown open almost sends the paper flying into his face, if not for his hand placed on top of it. “It’s always such a-” the words pleasure to see you died in his throat as you cut him off. “Ok what is the deal?” one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows raised slightly in questioning at your tired tone of voice. “Oh please let's not act like you don’t know what I am talking about.” the eyebrow didn’t lower even a centimeter. Marching over to the inviting seat in front of his desk you ungracefully plop yourself into the waiting chair. “Remember when Cassian accidentally knocked me out?” you watch as your brother wordlessly nodding in confusion. “Good.” you huff out letting the room fill with silence leaving your brother in a stronger state of confusion then before you started talking. At least before you came into his office Rhysand could have guessed about a thousand reasons as to what has you so upset but now he genuinely does not know where you are going with any of this. “ Go back like a week or two in time after me and Az returned from the summer court and both you and him were avoiding me. Why?” 

Rhysand knew why he was avoiding you but as for Azriel he's not too sure. Obviously he could take a very educated guess but that was about all he could do without asking. “I was busy.” Now the high lord watched as his little sister copied his earlier action of raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow in questioning. “Busy doing what exactly.” Silence once again engulfed the room as Rhysand weighed the pros and cons of telling you his reasoning for avoiding his own sister. A heavy sigh left his lips as he decided to tell you the nicer reason for his absence in your life. “When I walked in your room and saw Az helping you get dressed, that was obviously not something that I, as your older brother, wanted to see.” the continue on motion of your hand forced him to continue. “And as your older brother I obviously never want you to get hurt. In any version of the word. But as your brother I also realize, very reluctantly, at that might I add, that you deserve to live your own life. That means including having a romantic partner. So I was attempting to convince myself that if you pursued a relationship with Azriel that I would be ok.” 

A pregnant pause fell upon the room before you spoke up “That is why you’ve been avoiding me? Seriously?” The warm tone of your laughter brought a warm sensation  dancing up Rhysands neck and cheeks. Nobody else had the ability to embarrass him like his little sister does. “Rhys you know Azriel one hundred percent does not see me like that right? I mean yeah I like to use him to irritate you but he only does that because I asked him to.” your shoulders moved up and down in a shrugging motion. “While you may think that is true you have to remember for all of your life I have banned both you and those to pea brains of trying anything with each other so I needed some time to process even the mere thought of that happening.” you watched from across the desk as your brother pretended to gag. “I guess I no longer have to worry about Cass now that he has Nesta.” he added as an afterthought more to himself than to you.  “That explains why you have been avoiding me, even if it was because you were having a meltdown over nothing but what about Azriel? Why has he been avoiding me.?”  Moments of Rhysands conversation with Azriel played out in his mind. “I can only guess it's because after you paraded around summer” the sound of you scoffing interrupted his story. “Are you done being offended or can I continue.” Rhys watched as you rolled your eyes, taking that as his sign to continue on. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. After you returned I talked to Az about the different times I have caught the two of you in interesting situations, to say the least, and asked him about your relationship with each other. And since I have always made it clear he was never to see you in any way other than platonically I would assume he took that as a sign to step back from being around you.” 

The quill pen you summoned was quickly thrown across the desk at your brother “You big overprotective bat! How many times do I need to tell you that Azriel does not see me like that.” Rhys easily caught the pen giving a not so hidden sly smile at your turn to be embarrassed. “No wonder why he's avoiding me. You made it awkward. I’m just his friend's little sister and nothing more. Now I’m sure you’ve given him the wrong idea of me.” A big belly laugh erupted from within Rhysand quickly filling in the room. “After almost five hundred years  I think it’s a little late for Az to just now get the wrong idea of you.” the words barely escaped in between the laughter “You are a menace!” Rhys just continued to laugh as you marched your way back out of his office “I love you too!” The echo of his shout follows you down the corridor as you make your way out of his house. 

The very next morning you made your way to the top of the house ready to start training. “Ah ah ah.” Cassian's voice tuts from across the open roof top. Your eyes scan the room until they land on the wiggling finger that matched the owners equally as wiggly head. “You are not to be training until Madja says you can.” scrunching your face you look at Nesta before making eye contact with the general again “And who are you? My mother?” A bellowing laughter swallows up the words that just slipped past your lips. “When it comes to training I sure am.” his larger than most bicep wraps around your shoulders tucking your body into his. Leading you to the entrance that leads back to the lower level of the house. Cassian had almost gotten you to the threshold of the door when you spotted Azriel from the corner of your eye. Quickly you twirl out of your training mothers warmth and strut over to the one and only shadowsinger. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” the fact you had to tilt your head slightly upwards had never irritated you like it did in that moment. You watched as his hazel eyes shuffled across the room taking note of every person who showed up to training this morning. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” you could tell he was being extra quiet on purpose “Oh really is that why Rhys told me-” the words died in your throat as strong hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you from the ground. “Now young one I don’t think interrogating someone is something Madja said you were ok to do yet. Plus training starts in two minutes so you can do your questioning at a later time.” Gently Cassian once more places you on the outside of the training area. Glowering you said nothing as Cassian chuckled at your lack of response before making his way back to the center of the area. 

You watched as Azriel gave Cassian an appreciative nod and Cassian just patted him on the back before starting training. Something was definitely going on, you just didn’t know what. For now at least. 

If there was one thing that living this long has given you it was an endless supply of patience. So for almost three hours you stood leaning against the wall watching both warriors show off different techniques following up with critiquing each other's quote unquote weak spots for techniques. Finally after everything was said and done did Cassian allow you to step foot in the official training area. Azriel was stood by himself drinking water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” you could hear how hurt you sounded to your own ears and tried to not wince at the sound of the pathetic tone you displayed. You watched as the male's face fell before you. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I was avoiding you. It’s just-” you observed as it appeared Azriel was having an internal debate with himself before sighing a reluctant sigh “ you know how Rhys gets when it comes to you. After we got back he asked if anything was going on between the two of us and I said no. I respect both you and Rhys. I never want to betray Rhysands trust so I haven’t been avoiding you per say but you know.” he ended with a hefty shoulder shrug. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t hate me?” the facade of the shadowsinger broke in front of you to reveal a gentle, kind hearted male who would do anything for his family. The chuckle that fell from his lips brought a giggle to your own. “No, I don't hate you. I don't even think that's possible.” Azriel opens his arms as an invite to share a hug. Even though he was covered in sweat from head to toe you wrapped your arms around his torso pressing your cheek against his chest where his heart was beating. “Well that's good to know because I was starting to get concerned.”  Another chuckle made its way out of his throat and the vibrations of his laughter once again caused your own laughter. “So” you drag out the last vowel “Does that mean you will go shopping with me tomorrow?” you propped your chin against his chest and looked up at your closest friend. “If I must.”  His gentle teasing was met with an equally if not gentler kiss on the hairline of your forehead. 

Ever since your confrontation with Azriel things seemed to go back to normal but not completely back to normal. Something was off that you couldn’t put your finger on but it was without a doubt better than it used to be. The flow of the inner circle had almost returned back to completely normal. That would be until a few weeks later when at family dinner everything would change. 

It was very well known that dinners amongst the inner circle were tradition but it was lesser known that having a dinner where each personal either cooked or brought something to contribute to the dinner was also a tradition. 

This time around it was Feyre, Mor, Elain and yourself in the kitchen. Collectively as a good the three of you were trying your best not to destroy the High ladys kitchen. Elain had no such problems as she was often found making the best treats for the family on a daily basis. The oldest and youngest sister along with yourself had managed to make an edible dinner item, even though it was more challenging than the three of you would like to admit. While cooking was a neutral territory for yourself in terms of skills, it was cooking for three grown Illyrian bats and their accompanying companion along with the rest of the family that stretched your cooking abilities thin. It was a miracle the food was even edible on a good day. Let alone a day with nine hungry fae waiting to be fed. 

  After much work in the kitchen everyone had finally settled down around the table, only after much wrangling on both Feyres and yours behalf. Rhys was at the head of the table with your sister-in-law while you were seated in between Morrgian and Elain. Across from you was Amren, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta sitting in that order. 

Dinner was going as well as it normally did. Cass was making stupid jokes poking at Amren. Feyre was playing mediator, just in case they decided they wanted to destroy each other. And in turn destroy her house. Your brother was assisting Feyre in keeping the family under control and also dotting on her the whole time. Nesta and you were talking about books and Mor along with Elain were discussing different clothing options. 

The smell in the room was subtle at first but quickly you realized the brownies you had put in the oven prior to everyone sitting down were finally done. You just hopped they were burnt. With an abrupt “Oh! Crap!” you sent your chair sliding backwards and hurried off towards the hopefully unharmed cooked batter. After a few minutes of cutting and neatly placing the brownies on a platter you re-entered the dining room that was just as chaotic as when you had left. Cooking you may not be the best at but you were a pretty great baker. The Random desserts you make were always a hit amongst your family and you were sure these would be no different. 

“Anyone want a brownie? Of course Cass was the first to raise his hand and thus started your journey around the table handing out freshly baked goods. You had just rounded the corner of the table when you noticed that one person didn’t take a treat. Azriel. “Az? You don’t want a brownie?” you scrunched your brows together as you gently raise the platter you were holding as in an invitation. “No I’m ok” without realizing your face fell. “But you always eat anything I bake. You always say that I make the best desserts and you’ve never turned them down.” Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of you, instead they shifted between the platter of food back to your eyes before they repeated the process a few more times. “It’s-” his stutter catches you off guard causing you to raise an eyebrow in both confusion and questioning. 

“It’s just that I’m full right now and I-” once again you made a confused look and glanced down to his plate “That's only your second plate of food usually you eat three or four so I know you're not full. Why don’t you want one? Do you not like my baking?”  Once again you found yourself feeling extra hurt about a choice Azriel had made. Usually you were never this emotional but lately you couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the hit to the head that was causing you to be so emotional. As it wasn’t fully healed yet. The male was certainly free to do what he wants but this was new and confusing. “Oh help the brother and the mother.” you looked down to Morr where she had propped her elbows on the table and rested her head upon her hands. “What?”  Your confused tone causes a giggle to escape. “Do you really not understand why he won't eat the damn brownie?” Just as your cousin was about to explain, Azriel cut her off. “Morrigan don’t. It’s not your place to tell her.” 

Now this had your attention. What exactly was there to tell? And Why was Azriel being so secretive about it? After what felt like forever of the two of them going back and forth with each other you intervened. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on?” you didn’t shout but your question definitely wasn’t quiet either. You just needed to get their attention and it worked. “Are you going to tell her or should I?” Silence engulfed the room but Morrigan didn’t let it last too long. “The reason he won't accept your food is because you're his mate.” and in that moment everything stopped.

Taglist:

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #rhysand x sister!reader

[lovelybrooke]

you have said wanting to write more of Ohshc, how do you think they would act when they are jealous ?

Like maybe Reader have some friend from middle school and they catch up like the ep with Haruhi i dont remember which one

Jealousy (Yandere OHSHC)

I really like this but I changed a few things from your original ask, sorry. This is inspired episode 6. Also don't mind the name, I just looked up a random name.

based on these headcanons

masterlist

---

"I want to learn how to charm (Y/N)! Please teach me!" 

It was a quiet day in the Music Room, at least before all this started happening. The Club period was over for today, the rest of the Hosts getting ready to leave before a random first year walked in. 

"I apologize, the Hosts are all done for today" Kyoya said without even looking up from his papers. "Please come back tomorrow if you would like to meet with one of them." 

"I don't want to meet with any of them." The voice was deep, deeper than most of the clientele. The voice caught the attention of the other Hosts, mainly the twins and Tamaki, who moved to see who exactly it was. Kyoya looked up from his paper, peering at the person in question.

Kida Yutaka. He was a first year in your class, including your art elective. His father owned a tech company, partnering with schools all over the world to provide computers, as well as making popular phones. Kida wasn't known for being particularly popular, in fact some would even say he was shy, evident by the way he was shaking while speaking. So it's surprising to see him so bold at this moment. 

Tamaki was immediately fuming, rushing up to Kida, causing him to back away in shock. "Who are you?! What do you mean to (Y/n)!?" Kida was clearly shocked by the Host's behavior, seeing him react so badly to something so simply puzzled him. 

"I-I see (Y/n) come here often--I assume you know what they like..." Kida moves away from the blond, who is seething, backing into the twins in the process. "What--" 

"Aww, you look nervous~" They say in unison as Kida spins around. "You must really like them~" They say again, watching Kida's face heat up. 

Kida was obviously getting fed up with these Hosts, pushing past the twins and moving further into the room. "Okay look, I don't--It's just--look all I want to do Is--" 

"Mori--what's going on?" Kida jumps at the sound of another boy, Honey-Senpai, who looked clearly very tired. He was standing near a much larger boy rubbing his eyes. Mori's gaze was locked on Kida, surely meant to intimidate him. 

Where are they all coming from?

"This boy--" Tamaki spits out. "Wants to take (Y/n) from us!" He cries, leaning all his weight on Kyoya, who seemed unperturbed. Honey however, who was now being held up high by Mori, gasped dramatically.

"Really...I don't want (Y/n)-chan to leave..." Honey sounded like he was about to cry, very scared. Mori look like the exact opposite, his face was stern and cold, holding no empathy for Kida whatsoever. "Are they really leaving..." 

"No Mitsukuni." Mori says with a low rumble. 

"He might as well be." Kaoru says on his left. 

"He wants to sweep (Y/n) off their feet." Hikaru adds on his right. 

Kida looks like he's about to explode, his face red, confused and scrunched up. Moving away from the Hosts encircling him, he knew he needed to explain himself. "Look--all I want to do is learn what (Y/n) likes so I can ask them out! I assumed that since they spend all their time with you that you'd, y'know, give me advice." Kida finally let out. The room was finally silent, which strangely made him feel worse. It was gut wrenching, watching them analyze him. 

The first one to break the silence was Kyoya, letting out a low chuckle while pushing up his glasses with the hand that wasn't being restricted by Tamaki. "Well what a predicament we have here, it seems our dear (Y/n) has caught the eye of someone else, what a surprise." He didn't sound so surprised, the smirk on his face evident to that. "If it's advice you need then you came to the right place, isn't that right, Tamaki?" He turned his head to face the blond, who was still moping. 

"No absolutely not!" Tamaki belted. "I refuse to divulge my dear (Y/n)'s secrets, especially not to a scoundrel like you!" He all but spits in Kida's face. 

"Scoundrel..." Kaoru sighs

"What is he, five?" Hikaru finishes. 

"You should be making fun of him!" Tamaki points to Kida "He's the one trying to sneak his ways into (Y/n)'s life." 

Kida scoffed, crossing his arms and raising a brow. "What do you mean sneak? Me and (Y/n) are already friends." The sentence made Tamaki gasp, looking back at Kyoya, who was still smirking. 

"What does he mean? Why did he say that? Kyoya?" 

"It means that (Y/n) has friends outside of us, Tamaki." You would've thought Tamaki was shot by how much pain it looked like he was in, a stark contrast to his knightly persona. The twins both laughed at his shocked expression, moving closer to him. 

"Oh you hear that boss, they have friends~" They say in unison, laughing as Tamaki tries to jump them, only being stopped by Kyoya. 

Kida watched in pure confusion as he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Honey, still being held by Mori. "What is (Y/n)-chan like in class?" He tilts his head, and if it wasn't for the situation at hand he would've thought it was cute. "We don't have any classes together so I don't get to see them much..." He drones on. 

Kida thought for a moment. "They're kinda quiet, they don't talk much, especially not in art class. They're really kind though" He smiled for the first time since entering the music room. "Once, they let me use their paint during class since we sit next to each other, we talked the entire time. It was the first time I heard them talk, it was nice. They're nice..." The room was silent, Honey simply staring at Kida, nearly unblinking. 

Kida realized he liked you months ago. You and him were alike in a lot of ways, quiet and reclusive. It made him comfortable around you, it made him like you. You were his first crush, and for a while, he hated it. You were a commoner, there was no way that his father would let him be with you. But that didn't stop him from wanting you, he'd talk to you every day during class, some days he'd even eat lunch with you. But as time went on, he noticed you spending more and more time at the Host Club, he started to think that maybe there was something about them that you liked. 

If he could make himself more like them, then maybe you'd like him. 

"So are you gonna help--" 

"What are you guys doing? Who are you?" Haruhi walked into the Music room, you right behind her, causing Kida's face to light up. 

"Sorry, I left my bag here--oh hey Kida, what are you doing here?" You waved to him, moving around the Music room. Kida watched as you grabbed your bag, too afraid to say anything. This was too sudden, he wasn't ready to confess to you. 

"Hey Kida do you know when our next painting is due--Kida, where did he'd go?" Hikaru and Kaoru appeared on your sides. 

"You scared him." Hikaru whispers in your ear. 

"He's a baby." Kaoru whispers in the other. 

You push the two away, sighing as you swing the bag over your shoulder. "I have to get to work, bye guys." You wave, leaving as soon as you came. 

With Kida gone it as though Tamaki could finally breathe, slipping off of Kyoya and composing himself. "We're never letting him in again." He exclaimed. 

"Already banned, sir." Kyoya said with a smirk.

---

A/n: In conclusion they're insane.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere ohshc #ohshc x reader #yandere ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club x reader #ouran host club #ouran high school host club

[sinofwriting]

Homecoming - Oscar Piastri/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 3,290 Summary: She hasn’t seen them since April and she can only hope that they aren’t mad that she lied to them. Note(s): Thank you @casperlikej for this commission! Had a lot of fun writing it! NSFW. Takes place in 2023. Reader is in the military. Reader is an American, who also somewhat grew up in the UK, but it’s all very vague. Also, don’t surprise people in showers, injuries can and will happen.

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes. “It’s okay, baby.” Logan says. Oscar nods, but there’s worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?” She nods, “yeah, they just gave me the wrong date. It wasn’t until I was talking to my CO about leaving that they realized. I should’ve said something sooner.” “It happens.” Oscar tells her and she can see through the computer screen the way his fingers twitch, obviously wanting to reach out, and her heart aches.

She misses them so much, both her boys. Hasn’t seen them since April when China got canceled and they both managed to get away from their teams to see her. But she hasn’t really seen them since last year, since 2022, when Oscar was just a reserve and Logan was in F2 with their weird spotty schedule. They didn’t have as many race dates or things to attend. They had spent so much time with her then.

“Do they have your next date for leave?” She shakes her head. “Not yet. I think they’re trying to figure out how they gave me the wrong date.” She shrugs. “But it could mean I get some extra time.” Oscar snorts but Logan nods. “You’ll let us know as soon as you can?” “Of course, Lo. As soon as they tell me, I’ll text you. Have a good day, though, both of you.” Both their noses wrinkle but they nod.

And with I love you’s exchanged, she hangs up, looking at the packed suitcase next to her. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too mad that she lied.

—

Being in the military wasn’t exactly something she planned on. Not as a little girl, not as a preteen and not at fifteen when she discovered she liked both her best friends.

But then she was seventeen wanting to apply to different colleges and programs and her parents had to sit down and tell her that while they had this nice house and the family home in Florida and cars and she hadn’t really wanted for anything, that was all they had. They didn’t have enough money for her to apply to three colleges, let alone the near twenty she wanted to.

It had been a fight instantly. Because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. And for the past year they had been telling her that it was okay and that she’d have college to figure that out and it had been a lie. She remembers throwing things in a bag and going to Oscar’s brand-new place, because he was already eighteen and his parents wanted him to be comfortable.

She remembers throwing herself in his arms and then Logan’s because of course Logan was also there. Remembers crying because it kind of felt like her world was ending. She remembers the way they both had soothed her, held her, let her rage and sob. She remembers the way after when she was more calmed down, the shock gone from her system, they presented a bunch of options for her.

Working with them, working for Oscar’s dad, working for Logan’s uncle, doing this in college and that, just something, anything that sounded appealing and she can remember how she shook her head after every option and how despite that they didn’t get frustrated or angry, they just said okay before offering another until they ran out of things to offer.

It was her uncle, though he wasn’t really her uncle, that told her she should think about the military. She laughed at first thinking he was joking, but he hadn’t laughed with her, instead looked at her seriously.

“You know that I served.” And she had nodded, she had faint memories of being in elementary school or even younger back in Florida and seeing him in uniform, medals and ribbons on his chest. “And you know I’ve said a lot about it. Never kept quiet.” “Rock and a hard place.” He smiled for a second at her words before looking all serious again. “Exactly. What I’m saying is, it’s an option. And nowadays, your contracts aren’t as long depending on the branch like when I enlisted and I’ve got friends.” “I don’t think I’ll like it.” He laughed at her words. “No one knows if they’ll like it until they are in it. Just think about it. It’s something and it will give you time, paid time, to figure out what you really want to do.”

And she had thought about it. She thought about the pros and the cons, how the cons outweigh the pros for her and she nearly didn’t go through with it because of Logan and Oscar. Because they just had to confess to her, tell her that they liked her, wanted to be with her and how could she not tell them the same when it was true? She couldn’t. She had nearly called it good, happy to bounce between them playing personal assistant or social media admin or something, they didn’t really know what she’d do going back and forth, but then she saw her uncle again, a week before she turned eighteen.

He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t brought it up, hadn’t even mentioned the military. But just seeing him reminded her of their conversation, of the way she spent hours upon hours after considering it.

Seeing him made her realize she had to go through with it.

She doesn’t really remember telling Logan and Oscar her decision. She remembers how they reacted, both surprised, unaware she had been considering it. Logan had been understanding, but he was from America just like her, he had family in the service. Oscar didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why. It hadn’t been a fight, not that she remembered, but she knew that her decision had nearly broken them that day.

—

“You reenlisting?” Her uncle's voice is gruff. “No, sir.” He grumbles, lips twitching into a smile. “Good. And don’t call me sir. You in reserves now?” She nods. “As of last week.” “Logan and Oscar know?” She throws him a look. “Why would you be driving me to Vegas if they knew?” He laughs. “Fair. They’re doing good, right? In their Formula One thing?” She smiles, “Yeah, they’re doing alright. Did you like COTA?” He shrugs, merging onto the freeway. “Didn’t understand it, but it was alright. Beer was overpriced.” “Always is at events.” “I remember when you could get a six-pack,” he starts and she mouths along with him, having heard this since she was ten, unable to not smile as she does so. “What?” He asks, seeing her smile. “Nothing.” She tells him. “Just happy to see you haven’t changed.”

—

Vegas is annoying, she decides as she waves her uncle off, the older man having decided to stick around and try his luck at one of the casinos. Or rather the traffic currently in Vegas is annoying.

Pulling out her phone she texts Benny letting him know that she’s at the hotel. Looking around she smiles at all the lights and people milling around. She’d give Vegas this, it was pretty cool to look at.

“Y/N!” She turns her head, smiling at Logan’s trainer. “You got here early!” He chuckles, pulling her into a hug that she returns with one arm, still having a hand on her suitcase. “We made good time. Switched off driving, so saved us a bit from having to stop really.” He pats her on the back before letting her go. “But it was good.” She nods. “All good. How are you? How are the kids?” He grins. “They’re good, amazing, really. Excited that the season is ending and I’ll be home.” “Logan was telling me that you aren’t going to be his trainer next season.” Benny sighs, looking sad as they step foot into the hotel. “The kids are getting older, I want to be there more. If there was a way I could stay on, but not have to go to all the races I would. I love the kid, he’s like one of mine.”

She looks at him considering. She’d been around Logan and Oscar for ten years now, had been around their trainers for over five years, seeing what they did had made it easy for her to choose her degree that the military paid for while she served a year after she joined.

“Maybe you could.” His eyebrow raises. “I have a degree in sports medicine.” “But you have a year left.” She shakes her head. “That last year is reserves, unless we are going to war and all the active reserves have been called, I’m not going back in.” “Logan didn’t say.” “They don’t know.” Benny makes a weird huff sound, shaking his head. “You're going to knock them off their feet this weekend.” She laughs. “Maybe. Just talk to Sarah about it first, I’ll follow you around this weekend and next and we can talk about it with Logan.” “I don’t have to talk about it with Sarah, she’d be thrilled, she wasn’t fond of the idea in the first place. And Logan…” He shakes his head. “If you think Logan won’t be jumping at the idea of having you around twenty-four seven, you’ve lost it.” “Still! Talk about it with Sarah first, just in case.”

He shakes his head, but agrees, handing her a key card as they stop in front of a hotel room door. “This is their room. Gentle with them.” “Kim ask you to relay that message as well?” “Yes.” She laughs, nodding. “I will. Promise.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin on his face. “Go. I’ll see at least two of you tomorrow.” “Bye Benny. Thank you again for helping me.” “Of course.”

She watches as he walks down the hallway before taking out his own key card and entering his hotel room, just a few rooms down. Turning back to face the hotel room door, excitement starts to fill her. She was finally going to see them, be with them.

Pressing the key to the reader, she holds her breath as she waits for the door to unlock, breathes again when it does and she twists the door knob, letting herself in.

The door swings open quietly and her feet and suitcase make no noise against the carpet as she steps inside. There’s the faint sound of the shower running and music playing, and a large smile spreads across her lips. This was the routine she was used to, that hadn’t changed. Them coming back to their hotel room or when finally checking in, getting what they needed put away if they were staying long enough and then putting on some music and hopping in the shower.

The door closes with a small click as she shuts it, kicking off her shoes next to Oscar’s and Logan’s as she does. She hopes as she puts her suitcase next to Logan’s, that the shower is big enough for the three of them, but they’ve made do with some fairly small showers before.

Stepping further into the hotel room, she nearly giggles at the song playing, able to hear it clearly now with the way the bathroom door isn’t completely closed. She loves them so much.

Spotting the dirty clothes bag she bought Oscar for Christmas last year as a stock stuffer, right by the bathroom door, propped against the wall and already filled with a pair of jeans, shorts, shirts and socks, she adds her own pants, shirt, underwear and socks. A quiet sigh leaving her when she takes her bra off, which she carefully places on the back of an armchair.

The bathroom tiles are warm underneath her feet and she lets out a little oh, having expected them to be cold.

Her eyes dart to the sink where the large mirror behind is covered in steam, but her eyes quickly leave it to settle on the shower.

It’s big, maybe just big enough for the three to fit in, but she can’t focus on that because Oscar and Logan are there. She can’t see much, the glass of the shower just as covered in steam as the mirror, but she can see the shapes of their bodies, close together, holding each other as the water hits them.

Taking a deep breath, she steps towards the shower door. She shivers as her fingertips press against the glass before fingers move to open it and poking her head in, voice soft as she looks at them. “Room for one more?” She watches as they separate, Oscar turning to look at her, and they both look at her with confusion and shock, before wide smiles take over their entire faces, eyes shining with happiness.

Oscar the closer of the two reaches forward and she quickly steps in, nearly slipping in her hurry, but Oscar has an arm around her before she can, tucking her into his chest, as Logan shuffles around. The door to the shower closes with a slight noise before his arms are around her as well.

Tension immediately leaves her body at the feeling of them both, and tears start to slip from her eyes. “I missed you guys so much.” “We missed you too, baby.” “So much.” Oscar echoes, arms tightening around her before loosening and she’s being pulled away slightly. She wants to protest, but then his lips are on hers and she moans, sinking into his kiss.

“Lo,” she whines when Oscar stops kissing her, lips tingling. Oscar chuckles, the sound rich and so familiar it wants to make her cry again, but she’s being turned around and Logan is kissing her, his palms cupping her cheeks. “I missed this so much.” Logan breathes against her lips. “Missed the three of us so much.” “Never again.” She tells him, tells Oscar, tells them. “Never again. I don’t have to go back, I’m in inactive reserves and I’m not reenlisting. I’m yours, both of yours.” The words come out in a rush, nearly tripping over each other, but she can’t wait, can’t have them thinking that this will just be a short reunion before she has to leave them again. “Thank god.” Logan breathes before pressing their lips together. “Thank god.” He murmurs again when they separate before she’s turned around to face Oscar again, who practically swallows her whole.

His lips are insistent on hers as his hands clutch at her hips, fingers digging painfully and she hopes that he leaves bruises, wishes that he’d make his grip even tighter, knows he can. She tries to pull away, to ask him to, but he keeps following her lips. Like if he isn’t kissing her, she’ll disappear, so she stops trying. Lets him kiss her, moans when Logan’s lips land on her shoulder, pressing kisses that trail up to the top of it and along the shell of her ear before trailing back down.

“We,” she gasps when Oscar finally stops kissing her, though his lips instead fall to her breasts going between the two, unable to decide which one he wants to give attention to more. “We can’t do this in here.”

The next moments are a blur as they scramble out of the shower, out of the bathroom and tumble into bed, soaking the duvet, pillows, and sheets with their wet naked bodies. It’s a blur of lips on hers, on her body, of fingers pressing and pulling. She remembers clearly the first press of fingers into her body, of Oscar’s tongue laving at her, of the kiss Logan and Oscar shared between her thighs. It blurs with her first and second orgasm.

She remembers clearly as well, the first sink of Oscar’s cock into her, her back to his chest as he laid down, the way he pressed all the way into her, not letting her adjust. She doesn’t remember the apparent fumble for lube or the first two fingers that Logan had carefully sunk into her alongside Oscar’s cock. She remembers the stretch of his three fingers and Oscar’s cock, and finally the stretch of him sinking into her as well. The near painful stretch of having both of them inside her at the same time, in the same hole.

Her mind is still blurry, still coming down from pleasure when they finally break the silence of just trying to catch their breaths and music still playing from the bathroom.

“That was so good.” She makes a small noise in agreement. “You felt so good.” Oscar says, kissing her shoulder and she shudders at the feeling. “You both did.” And she can hear the sound of Oscar kissing Logan. “Logan’s gonna hold you now, okay.” Oscar tells her as she still lays somewhat on top of him. “Both of your legs are shaking.” That makes her blink and look down, swallowing hard because she hadn’t even realized hers were shaking. “And I need to clean you up and get some water for all us, okay?” She nods.

Despite him telling her that, she still nearly whines when he moves out from under her, but he quickly pushes her into Logan’s arms who eagerly holds her close. She hadn’t seen if his legs were shaking as well like Oscar said, but she doubts it with the way Logan manages to turn her around in his arms and pull her so she’s on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest just the way he likes.

“Love you so much, baby.” Logan murmurs into her hair. “You were so good for us. Just fell apart over and over again. Gave us five orgasms.” She makes a surprised sound. That didn’t sound right. “A whole five, baby. It was fucking amazing.” She nuzzles into his neck and he continues speaking, knowing the sound and feeling is soothing.

He stops when Oscar comes back, making a tutting noise at how they are positioned which makes her mumble Logan’s name and Oscar runs a hand down her calf.

“I know, darling. You’re alright. You though,” and she can picture the way Oscar is looking at Logan, pointing a finger at him. “How am I supposed to clean you up?” She feels Logan shrugs as best as he can with her on top of him. “The way you usually do.” The younger makes a huffing sound but is quiet. She can feel his breath against her leg as he most likely bends.

Logan makes a small noise and she kisses his neck. “Cold?” “No, it’s warm.” He reassures her. She hums and when it’s her turn she doesn't even jolt at the feeling of the washcloth running over her most sensitive parts and her thighs. “Alright, you two, you both got to sit up to drink some water.” Oscar says, as he climbs back into bed with them. Logan grumbles and she turns her head to watch as Oscar gets comfy with his back against the headboard, three water bottles on his nightstand.

He’s still naked, probably not even thinking of pulling on underwear or sweats on and it makes her want to curl up in his lap. He seems to feel her eyes on him because he smiles, all soft, sweet, fond and he’s opening his arms and she carefully moves off Logan to do what she thought about it.

Her head rests on his shoulder, as she sits sideways on his lap, facing Logan, who watches them both with that awestruck look of his as he sits up and scoots closer until him and Oscar are sitting side by side and he can draw her feet into his lap, stilling letting her stay curled up in Oscar’s lap, but getting some contact with her.

“Love you both.” “We love you too.”

@darleneslane @copper-boom @eutrizbea @kimmib13 @elliegrey2803 @stopeatread @hiireadstuff @tallrock35

#loscar x reader #oscar piastri x reader x logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #sins 5k bday bash fics

[ot9snumber1]

siren song

siren!sana minatozaki x reader

summary: dahyun gets your crew shipwrecked. jeongyeon says she's got it under control. you take a walk to clear your head—clearly not the best idea.

warnings: smut, blood, manipulation(?), 2yeon!, implied death(s) but the main one is up to interpretation, i know nothing about pirates nor sirens i'm making things up

notes: just wanted to write something based on the dive teasers and ended up making it way longer than my usual fics,, i also couldn't help but insert misamo in this. u guys know me and misamo...

also, dedicated to the lovely @royaltozaki <3

wc: 3.2k

"damn it!" you yell, kicking a rock in frustration. dahyun trails behind you as you pace around the beach, muttering constant apologies.

"captain—"

"enough! do you realize what you've done?" dahyun shrinks at your tone, nodding and looking even more guilty. "what if we're stranded here forever? you have no idea how hard it is to get rescued—hell, i don't think we have enough supplies to last us two mon—"

you had dahyun cornered against a tree. voice laced with venom, seeing pure red as the younger girl did her best to hold back tears.

your scolding was cut off by jeongyeon putting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." she says, her tone not exactly harsh, but very far from the usual banter she'd have with you.

"lay off the poor girl, will ya?" jeongyeon frowns, moving to stand between you and the newbie. "she's doing her best."

you cross your arms, jaw clenched and staring at her like she was crazy. the taller woman sighs, nodding understadingly. she couldn't blame you for being mad—you were just doing your job as captain, after all. she just wished you wouldn't be so harsh on dahyun.

"look, i've got it covered. jihyo and i are working on the engine, nayeon's preparing lunch for everyone." she says, a gentler tone this time as she puts both hands on your shoulders. no matter that you were the captain now, you'd always be the little girl she and nayeon rescued in her eyes. "take a walk, okay? it's a beautiful island, it'll help clear your mind."

you grumble, looking away to think as you tapped your foot on the sand repeatedly. she's right, you were just letting your frustrations get the best of you. "fine." you mumble, storming off without another word.

jeongyeon sighs.

"i wouldn't worry too much about her," she says as she turns around, putting her hand on dahyun's shoulder this time. "she's just sensitive about this stuff."

dahyun looks at her, puzzled. jeongyeon nods, already knowing what she was going to ask. "she lost her girlfriend—tzuyu—in a wreck a few years ago. it was the one expedition where she wasn't there."

"she's captain now—give 'er some space, okay? she just wants to protect us, you included." jeongyeon reassures her, giving a smile and squeezing her arm before leading the both of them back to where the others were.

—

you curse to yourself as you trip over another root, kicking the tree that it belonged to. you wipe the sand off your front and sleeves, brows furrowing as you take deep breaths.

this definitely wasn't helping, you think. you huff, finding yourself in an area fenced off by rocks. the tide wasn't high, leaving more than enough room for you to sit and draw on the sand.

you sit, the waves barely crashing against the tip of your shoes. you take back what you thought—it was as beautiful and peaceful as jeongyeon described, you were just too stubborn to let it calm you down.

your focus goes to the wet sand in front of you. scooting closer, you shiver when you feel your pants begin to soak. the waves reach your ankles.

you keep staring at the dark sand, watching how the water continues to crash against it. leaving rocks and shells only to bring them back with it the next time a wave crashes.

without giving it much thought, you trace a heart into the sand. the next wave only consumes half of it, you redraw that half quickly.

the initials of you and tzuyu's names are written shortly after, a small smile gracing your face before the wave crashes back and takes tzuyu's inital back with it.

"what's up with you and taking my love, hm?" you scoff and toss a small stone into the water, attention back to the waves that continued to crash against your shoes and the cuffs of your pants.

"this is dumb." you mutter, running a hand through your hair. you cringe when you feel the strands that stuck to your sweaty skin. "jeong was right. mind cleared, time to go." you stand up, not even attempting to wipe the wet sand off your pants. you'd just gross yourself out.

"i don't think you've cleared your mind."

you whip your head around. that wasn't a voice you were familiar with. was your crew followed?

a giggle follows and you shiver, grabbing a small knife from your belt. "i'm not afraid of a fight." you say, getting into a protective stance. "i've taken the loves—"

"i don't care what you've taken." you see something—someone emerge from behind a rock in the water, head just barely peeking above the sea. "unless it's me, of course."

she smiles, her eyes dangerous.

"put that thing down." the mystery woman says, pointing at the knife in your hand. you shake your head.

"i said put it down." she seems to sing through her words this time, kind smile replaced with a deep scowl. you were about to tell her to piss off until you hear a quiet thump beside you.

you look down. when did you drop the knife? you were just holding it with an iron grip just a second ago—

"come here."

you were too busy trying to process what just happened to even realize that your legs were walking towards her.

"what the fuck?" you gasp once the cool water hits your chest. "what do you want? what are you? why are you—"

she laughs once more, finally face-to-face with you. "isn't she cute, girls?" she hums. you feel something wrap around your legs, her arms pulling you closer by the waist.

you look down, going stiff at seeing what exactly was holding your legs together. a tail.

a siren's tail.

you panic instantly, trying to free yourself from her grip. her grin only grows as a hand goes over your mouth and another pair holds your arms together.

you look to your side—another siren, black hair and blunt bangs squishing your face a little too hard. you look to your other side, a third siren, long black hair—long enough to cover her chest—held your arms tight against your body.

you look back to the one in front of you, light brown hair and a stare that burned straight down your core.

"a little feisty, though." the one holding your face says, squeezing a little harder when she feels you open your mouth to protest.

"doesn't matter, they're all the same anyway." the brunette—you assume she was their leader—muses, carefully moving the hand away from your mouth. you open it to say something, but she just shakes her head.

you can't seem to form words after that.

"hm," she whispers, face just inches from yours as she gets lost in thought.

"momo, mina, leave. this one's mine." she commands. they leave your side almost instantly, you sigh out of relief when you regain control over your arms.

"bring leftovers home for us, yeah, sana?" momo quips before disappearing into the water with mina.

you look back to sana. she was still staring straight through you, her gaze never left. not even to bid her girls goodbye.

"sana is a pretty name." the words leave your mouth before you can even think. what the hell were you doing? she was about to kill you, for fuck's sake!

the siren raises her eyebrows, a seductive smile gracing her face. "you're not concerned that she implied that i'm going to eat you?"

she observes you. every breath you take, every blink and every time you have to peel your eyes away from her cleavage. nothing goes undetected in her eyes.

you take the time to think. what exactly were you feeling? you were tzuyu's. you swore you always would be, no matter what. it's not like you were committing to anything with the creature holding you captive. hell, you were 100% sure she'd just gotten into your head.

jeongyeon had always warned you about sirens, but you never believed her. in your eyes, she was just trying to keep you from getting out of her sight.

now you couldn't keep your eyes away from sana.

maybe you were just sexually frustrated. she is very attractive for a monster known to kill pirates. then again, that's how they get 'em. or you're just bored. maybe it's both.

"...no?" you'd given the answer much thought, yet you were still unsure. sana feels her hunger and desire grow tenfold.

she grins again and you catch a glimpse of her razor sharp canines. "for a captain, you're really stupid. i like you." she hums, giving you exactly a second to process her words before crashing her lips onto yours.

this was wrong, so terribly wrong. you were kissing someone that wasn't your tzu and breaking the promise you made to jeongyeon about not daring to look at a siren.

you tense up and she notices, prompting her to move a hand to your neck and hold you still. unsurprisingly, her touch was ice cold. you moan involuntarily at that.

she wasn't even choking you or anything, she just felt so good against you.

"not so bad, huh?" she whispers when she pulls away to grant you a breath. sana hums something you couldn't comprehend and you nod, the action completely out of your control. "mhm, that's what i wanted to see."

you finally gave up trying to distinguish what were your choices and what was controlled by her song. your body belonged to her now, as far as the both of you knew.

sana kisses you again, trying not to smile too much when you sigh into it. her tongue swipes against your bottom lip, making you whine against her mouth once more.

you part your lips, wanting to feel her tongue against yours. instead, you feel her sharpest teeth pierce the skin of it.

you pull away, hating the taste of blood. you watch it drip down to the water before looking up at sana, her mouth dripping in your blood too.

"what? it hurts?" she grins, leaning in for another taste. "let's get you cleaned up, then." you have no time to respond before you're pushed into the water. (thankfully, you screwed your eyes shut before she did so.)

the wound on your lip stings. you try to swim up, but sana just pulls you back down and continues kissing you like it were nothing. her tongue goes in and out, you can feel her sharp nails scratching against your waist. at least her lips on yours distracted you from the pain of it all.

you feel her lips on your neck. your breath would hitch, but you can't breathe—you don't want to breathe. not necessarily craving death, but if it meant you'd never have to live with the fact you were letting this happen, it didn't sound terrible to you.

you're pulled back up, but she hardly lets you breathe anyway. one hand on the collar of your dress shirt, stopping you from escaping (as if you were trying to) and another rubbing your pussy through your pants. you weren't her first victim, you were sure of it now.

"wait—wait, sana—"

she finally pulls back for more than a second, pouting. "it's not very fun if i give you everything you want."

you raise an eyebrow, panting as you wipe blood off your lips. "this is the first time you've let me breathe since you pulled me into the water."

sana tilts her head, biting her lip as she looks away from your bleeding lip and up to your eyes. "cute. i can only give you one thing, you know? that's how we keep it fun, darling."

"now choose: the ability to breathe freely," she seems uninterested as she tears the buttons off your soaked shirt. "or let me do whatever i want?"

her eyes flit back up to you.

"well?"

"i was told to kill your kind, you know."

sana laughs again, backing you up against a large rock. it was incredibly attractive, like listening to death come collect your soul.

—

jeongyeon frowns when she sees that nayeon still hadn't touched her food, nor had she even sat down after telling everyone lunch was ready.

she gets down on the shore again, walking towards nayeon. the older woman was just standing, barefoot on the sand and letting the waves cover them in sand.

"worried about her?" jeongyeon asks, voice as gentle as the shore as she stands beside her lover. nayeon nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. "of course i am."

"she's strong, nay. she'll come back and forgive dahyun, trust me."

"not about that, jeong." nayeon mutters, fiddling with her necklace now. jeongyeon purses her lips.

"give her ten more minutes before i look for her, okay?"

nayeon nods, feeling a small weight lift off her chest. "okay."

—

"fuuuck, sana!" you groan as her tongue swirls around your nipple, her fingers pinching the other. you take a fistful of her wet hair and desperately attempt to push her head down to your pussy.

"got somewhere else to be?" she asks, her free hand replacing her lips as she straightens up. "...yes. your head has somewhere else to be, too." you mumble in frustration, face flushed.

"right." sana teases, opting to suck more hickeys into your neck instead. you were even more pissed now, but you found yourself too weak to protest against how fast she wanted to do things. she licks the fresh mark, making you whine.

"you hungry? your mom was making you lunch before this, no?"

"she's not my mom!" you reply, your mind wondering how sana knew about nayeon. then again, she'd probably been stalking you since you got shipwrecked here. "and i'm not hungry."

"i am." sana husks against your ear, chest heaving against yours. you tense up again. "calm down, i'm not going to devour you like that."

"not yet at least." she mumbles as she undoes your pants. you didn't allow yourself to laugh. "not funny." you mumble, she shrugs. "wasn't trying to be, darling."

sana lowers herself, kissing across your stomach while pulling your pants down. she takes your hands and forces you to hold them together. "do not touch me."

you weren't going to anyway, in fear of her using her song on you again. you learn to stop trying to predict her behavior. now you physically couldn't let go of your hands, just watching helplessly as sana descended into the water.

your leg gets thrown over her shoulder and she immediately latches onto your clit.

you hiss, her mouth warm compared to the cool water enveloping your entire lower half. you hear her faint giggles as her nails dig into your thigh, lapping up as much of you as she could.

her tongue was moving faster than you could think—in and out, swirling around your clit, moving anywhere and everywhere to coax those delicious sounds out of you. she was a relentless predator and you were just meek prey.

you whine through clenched teeth when you feel yourself rapidly approaching your climax. you didn't want to cum for her at all—much less give her the satisfaction of making you do so this quickly, but everything about her was so alluring and you were incredibly desperate to feel something after so long.

you make the mistake of looking down at her, bucking your hips up when you realize her eyes were still on you the whole time.

she lifts you up out of the water, both of your legs over her shoulders while her hands moved to steady your hips. you were practically laying on the smooth rock, hissing from the slight burn it gave you.

the filthy sound of sana eating you out was much easier for you to hear now and it drove you crazy. your thighs close around her head as you continue grinding against her face, making her smile against your lips. "cum, darling. don't be so scared of me." sana whispers, breath hot against you.

you stop fighting against it, cumming hard when she kisses your clit. your body relaxes quickly after, panting and focusing on trying to form a coherent thought that you didn't bother to notice sana was singing again.

sighing out of relief when you realize she was giving you control over your hands again, you lean up slightly only to see her climbing on top of you.

"we're not done, captain." she whispers against your wounded lips, capturing them in another kiss.

you try not to cringe at the feeling of her slimy tail against your legs.

—

"y/n, it's not funny anymore. you're going to give nayeon a heart attack!" jeongyeon calls out, sighing when you're not hiding out in a clearing amidst the trees.

it's been nearly an hour since she started looking for you. how far out could you have gone?

jeongyeon continues walking, her pace quickening the more she thinks about finding you passed out on the ground. she'd never forgive herself if anything happened—going on a walk to clear your head was her idea after all. (she'd never forgive herself for how nayeon would react, either.)

"y/n, i'm serious!" she calls out once more, reaching another part of the beach. her heartbeat quickens once she sees footprints.

—

your hands were on sana's boobs, one massaging and the other pinching at her nipple. she moans into your mouth, her hands going over yours.

"rougher, darling. how many times do i have to tell you?" sana says, smiling when she sees how tired you were when she pulled away from your lips. you were doing your best to catch your breath, hating that you couldn't keep up with sana.

it's not like you could shove her off you and kill her anyway, you could hardly move your legs as is. you hate that you fell into her trap—that you let her plan unfold.

there wasn't a single merciful bone in her body either. she was only keeping you alive to torture you at this point.

sana's lips reattach to your neck, kissing harshly but not leaving any more marks for the sake of keeping your head attached to your body.

her ears perk up when she hears someone calling your name from a distance, the fins extending as she looked towards the direction of the voice. you did too, heart dropping at the sight of jeongyeon looking around and yelling your name. you pray that sana dragged you out far enough for her not to spot you like this.

"ah, what a shame. that's our cue, darling." sana hums, letting herself fall back into the water and pulling you with her. you struggle against her grip, using the last of your strength to push her away. still, she was hardly exhausted. she easily captures you once more, holding you tight and forcing you to watch jeongyeon's figure on the shore grow smaller and smaller.

"don't worry, it's not the end for you yet." sana whispers, her lips grazing your ear. "you've been my favorite to ruin, darling."

you feel tears run down your cheek as you both submerge under the water once more. you don't bother to close your eyes anymore, the ocean didn't sting as much as it did years ago anyway.

sana sings again, her voice muffled in your ears. everything goes dark the second after she stops.

"rest up, darling." sana smiles, her arms tightening around you.

#siren!sana #sana minatozaki x reader #sana x reader #sana minatozaki smut #twice x reader #twice smut #sana minatozaki imagines #twice imagines

[miley1442111]

Hi sorry to bother you but can you make a spencer reid x reader with the mute!reader and he helping her with everything.

Thank you so much sorry to bother you.

this is so cute! I did some research but I am nowhere near well-versed enough to know everything so please someone tell me if i've made a mistake !!!

mutism- s.reid

a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together :)

pairing: spencer reid x mute! reader

warnings: none

You were mute. You knew sign language and could talk to specific people on very specific occasions. You’d had it since you were diagnosed at 4 years old and it truthfully wasn’t the end of the world, but it did suck to not have had a date at the age of 22. Not that you weren’t beautiful, not that people hadn’t tried, you just… didn’t speak. 

But, CalTech was amazing, you were a biology student and you loved it. You could just lock in, ignoring the world around you and spend time in the lab for hours on end. Though, you couldn’t exactly investigate the growth rate of organisms in a crowded college bar. 

“I’m getting another drink!” Your very drunk friend shouted over the voices in the bar. You nodded your head, staring down at your half-empty drink as you sighed. You wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t here, at this stupid bar. Your friend, Maria, was a party-animal. You two had been dorm mates for the last 3 years and she had started learning sign language from the first week. She’d brought you into her friend group, allowing you a group of about 7 girls who all had your back. 

Well, they usually had your back, just not while they were all drunk and hooking up with their partners in the bathrooms or in their dorms, which is what all of them were doing right now. 

A tall and lanky boy sat beside you on your left and your body went rigid, silently begging him to not try and talk to you. 

“Spencer, come on!” One of his rowdy friends shouted. Spencer. Spencer was very cute. He had long-enough hair, brown trousers with a tie and shirt on. He looked far too overdressed for a simple college bar and you smiled. 

He was more than cute, he was gorgeous. You were shocked you’d never seen him modelling.

“No, I’m tired,” he laughed at his friend. “Go dance without me!” His friend gave up, walking off to a group of equally lanky and nerdy boys, all attempting to dance. 

Another man sat on your right, the seat where Maria had sat and you were instantly filled with anxiety again. Maria was nowhere to be seen and there were two men beside you, either of them could easily start trying to talk to you and what would you do? Just write it down on a napkin? On your phone? 

You hadn’t had this problem in a very long time. 

“So, you come here often?” The guy on your right asked, a soft smile on his face. He seemed to be the typical frat boy, kind of asshole-y but nicer than others you’d met. You tried to ignore him, pulling out your phone and texting Maria, saying you were going home instead of staying out longer, but he persisted. “What’s your name?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spencer had been attempting to make conversation with you all year. He knew you were the smartest in your class, since he and your professor were friends and he often read over your papers. He thought you had the most beautiful mind, he didn’t even care what you looked like, he just wanted to know you. 

But, he had found out what you looked like from your photo online and he fell harder. You were gorgeous, smart, and interesting. He also knew you were mute. Back in your first year at college most people had just assumed that you were rude or too prideful to speak to certain people, and that you were getting special treatment from teachers by them letting you not present your projects. This meant your facilitators had to make an announcement to most of your classes, explaining why you didn’t speak. He saw your face one day as your professor explained to the class that you were mute, you looked so embarrassed and ashamed and he felt his heartbreak. He'd been embarrassed of his intelligence his whole life (but trust me, he knew that these were VERY different things) and he felt an uncertain connection to you. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” he tried to sound intimidating to the guy but he knew he wasn’t exactly a beefy 6 '2 frat boy.

The frat boy got the message. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You felt sick, Spencer was speaking for you and all of it could’ve gone to shit if that frat boy hadn’t gotten the hint. You quickly got up, looked at Spencer and signed ‘thank you’ and practically ran through the door, just wanting to get back to your dorm, 

“Umm, wait!” Spencer followed you out to the car park and you turned to face him, feeling hot under his gaze despite the cold, dark night around you both. “I’m S-Spencer, sorry if that was really weird but I wanted him to l-leave you alone, I-I know who you are a-and… yeah.”

He knew who you were? You looked at him confused. 

“Professor Monk! I help with his corrections sometimes, I’ve read your papers, they’re really good,” he smiled. “C-can I get your number or something?” Something like panic flashed over his features, clearly shocked at his own words. 

You took out your phone and wrote out “I seriously doubt I’d be much fun, I don’t talk,” you showed it to him, and he chuckled. 

“I know sign language,” He smiled and your heart swelled. You didn’t know it now, but on your wedding day, he would admit that it was a very big lie. 

You held out your hand for his phone and he handed it over, you punched in your number and that was the start of your beautiful love story. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through your life together, Spencer was always there for you, there to calm you down, speak for you, be there for you, and to love you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first night he heard you speak was a year and half into your relationship, it was purely accidental on your part, genuinely comfortable enough to just speak and you did. 

“You’re so funny,” you quietly said between his and your own laughter. His own smile grew, while your face heated. 

“You spoke,” he observed, holding you from behind, his taller figure engulfing yours. “You have a nice voice.”

You whispered a meek “thank you” and he could’ve sworn that his heart grew three sizes. He didn’t want to push you, he just kissed you on the cheek and continued on with his cooking while he internally freaked out. Despite being together so long, you still found ways to fluster and surprise him. The majority of the time, he spent feeling like a schoolboy with how smitten he was with you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, you knew Spencer would always have your back, always love you, and always care.

He promised you so on your wedding day.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid

[awakenedevildays]

"you should move in with me" Art's voice echoes off the bathroom walls, it's all so relaxing: the heat of the water around your bodies, his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you are so comfortable that it takes a while for you to realize what he just said.

"what?"

"you heard me" he murmurs against your neck "come live with me" an incredulous laugh leaves your mouth and you try to turn completely towards him, but his arms clench tighter around you and prevent you from moving enough to do so.

"may I ask why you are asking this now?" you move slightly to the side to see his face emerging from the hollow of your neck.

"I feel like we're ready to do it" his eyes avoid yours and focus instead on his fingers as they start caressing your shoulder "and it's also the next logical step in our relationship."

"You think so?" this time, despite Art's protests, you turn towards him: your breasts press against the boy's chest and his eyes fall down quickly before being brought back to yours by the hand under his chin. The tease is evident on your face and Art feels his ears warm up quickly to the realization of being caught in the act.

"I know so" and kisses the smile off your lips to distract you.

"My answer is not a no, but how do we know that our relationship is ready for this?" you ask him and, without realizing it, the agitation inside you rises: how did you know if you were ready for this step? and if you break up because you went too fast?

The tennis player frowns "what do you mean?" and the sight in front of you distracts you for a second: Art sits back against the back of the tub to stand more upright and listen to you better, his arms, after moving his curly damp hair out of his face, leans on the edges of the tub, his wet and smooth chest shines and his legs are open and bent to the sides to give you more space between them. If you weren't so determined to finish the topic you were having, you'd kiss him to death, but you're a woman on a mission and you can't get distracted.

"I mean, some of my behaviors might irritate you or we might fight about serious things and then we wouldn't be able to run away from our problems by going back to our apartment, we'd have to deal with these situations and be mature about what bothers us and-"

"love, you're getting worked up over nothing" he says and his expression relaxes into a smile: now that he understood that your reasons are motivated only by insecurity and not by the fact that you don't want to take the next step with him, he feels it will be easier to convince you otherwise.

"You see? this is exactly what I'm talking about! if we move in together we can't belittle each other's feelings and concerns like this. It wouldn't be healthy and-"

"love," he interrupts you again, and your hands that were gesturing in the air fall on his chest, your eyes avoid his.

Out of your mouth comes a small "…yes?" that makes the man in front of you chuckle.

"we're ready" his calm tone makes its way into your chest "we're 24 years old and we've been together since we were 19, we both have a steady job and we already know everything about each other, there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind".

"what if we fight?"

"I can't promise you we won't fight, we fight even now that we don't live together, but it seems to me that we are pretty good at making up, if we fight we will solve it as always" it's true, you never went beyond a day without talking to each other, even if you were angry.

"what if we break up?"

"It won't happen," he answers immediately, his fingers move the locks of hair behind your ears and then rest his hands on your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

His head lowers to chain your eyes together and you look up to facilitate his task "I won't let it happen", the security in his eyes makes you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Your eyes move around to look at the bathroom, "but I wouldn't be able to pay half the rent of this apartment"

"I don't care about that".

"but-"

"If you really want to pay something, we can split the bills," he answers hastily, at the moment Art doesn't care about how to split the expenses, he would pay everything if it meant he could spend the rest of his life next to you… he just needs your 'yes'.

Your face gets close to his, your lips a few inches away.

"okay" his eyes still fixed in yours

"'ok' what?" his smile gets brighter, he wants to hear you say it.

"I'll move in with you" you smile too.

"that's what I like to ear" he kisses you again.

Now he only had to ask you to marry him… but that will have to wait a little longer.

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

Hope you guys will like it as much as I liked writing it! 🩷

(in this fic he still has long hair cause I said so)

#long-haired art dondalson supremacy #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers #tashi doesn't exist here... again lol

[pre11yyy]

SUMMARY: You've been teasing Haechan way too much lately so he had to put an end to it (by fucking u so good)

A.N: this was originally a hard thoughts drabble but i just felt like writing more into it so hope u enjoyy... Also m in a very Haechan mood today so i might or might not spam u with his content sorry not sorry

Warnings: explicit content (mdni), mean!haechan, hard!dom!haechan, choking (with hands and cock), hard fucking, unprotected seggs, and more

You were standing in front of Heachan's door, ur hands playing with the hem of ur skirt as u wait for ur brother to show up so u could leave. U always kind of felt nervous around Heachan, u don't know if it's because he always eye-fucks u whenever u r around him, or because of his never ending teasing but u were sure that if u were to be in space alone with him something will 100% happen between both of u.

U can feel that he was only holding back because of his friendship with Mark and that makes u uneasy, so u've been playing with his nerves lately, wanting him to snap out and to give in for his dick i mean for his emotions but also his dick. You didn't know what has gotten into u yesterday but u sent him a picture with ur new red lengerie, waiting for him to see it before deleting it and sending a bunch of sorries wanting to see his face more than anything, but he didn't reply, only reading ur texts without an answer and u couldn't help but wonder if u crossed the line or if u read wrong into him. You weren't sure about coming here with Mark to get his jacket that he forgot in Heachan's house, embarrassed but also curious at the same time, eyes looking for him as he disappeared in his room, hearing his chatter with Mark about random stuff while leaving u standing in the hallaway, u were about to sit in the sofa when u heard their footsteps coming ur way and u stopped looking at Heachan who threw u a very intense look, his eyes hazy as they noticed u, drinking ur excuse of the dress that u fought with Mark over, the small piece barely covering ur ass, ur makeup heavier than usual and the only thing that Heachan wanted to do was to smear it and mess it up but he held himself or at least he tried before he saw the ghost of the red lace bra under ur dress, the same one u sent him yesterday, he cursed under his breath knowing exactly what u r trying to get from all this and he sure will give u that and more.

Mark wrapped his arm around ur shoulders "let's go" u pulled him away annoyed that he messed up ur hair but he returned it in immediately making u fight with him ur dress riding up as u squirm trying to get him away, Heachan watched the whole thing, his pants tightening as he saw the red thong pop in contrast with ur skin, flashing half of ur butt to him. He clenched his hands, his leg shaking impatiently and praying that u'd leave soon or else he'll bend u over in front of Mark. And as if his prayers were answered Mark let go of u earning couples of hits in his chest while laughing at ur tired form, he turned to Heachan "u coming dude?" he asked making the other frown confused "where?" his eyes falling back to u, not missing the small grin on ur face "y/n wants to get a tattoo, it's gonna probably take a long time i'll be so bored if i go with her alone" Heachan raised his eyebrows at u, u really giving it ur best ha! He nodded agreeing to join u and he almost regret that. U were laying on ur stomache the tattoo artist working on ur inner thigh, Heachan could see u through the empty space in the glass, he could see ur ass sticking out as the tattoo artist is inking in ur skin, not paying attention anymore to whatever shit Mark is saying, his mind wondering to later on, to when he'll have u and make u pay for all the teasing u did to him cause ofc he won't let it slide…

U were on ur way back, Heachan's the one driving insisting for both of u and Mark to spend some time in his house and Mark agreed even tho he wanted to drop u off before hands but Heachan refused, u were about to reach Heachan's house when Mark's phone started ringing, "ohh okaay i'll be there in 20 minutes, okayy dw" Mark sighed asking Heachan to drop him off right there "i have to go, they need more waiters tonight" Mark turned to where u r pretending to sleep knowing so well that he would force u to go home right away and u can't let that happen, not when u have this big of oppotunity "dude what am i gonna do? should i wake her up?" Heachan shooked his head "no need i'll take care of her dw" it took Mark a minute to nod his head not sure if he did a good job or not but trusting his friend nonetheless. The moment u heard the door click and the engine start again u opened ur eyes, sighing in relieve and laying there playing with ur phone, excitement filling ur whole body… U felt the car stopping before Heachan got off the car closing the door with too much force that it startled u, u got out of the car seeing Heachan's back facing u as he was opening the door to his house, u stepped in, tugging the end of ur skirt as u followed him inside and the next thing u know, u were pressed on the wall, Heachan's hand wrapped around ur neck making u gasp, his other hand on ur hips, breathing right into ur ears "u played with wrong person little doll" he whispered the hand on ur neck moving up to grip ur jaw making u moan from how rough he is, he chuckled looking at u amused "we didn't even start and u r moaning already?" he clicked his tongue moving ur face and forcing u to look at him, ur hazy eyes meeting up with own and u felt ur legs weaken at the way he was staring at u,

he burrowed his head on ur neck nibbling at ur jaw, his right leg forcing it's way between ur legs, urging u to sit on his thigh and he groaned as he felt ur wetness through his pants, his hand letting go from ur face and gropping ur breasts on top of ur dress, kneading them harshly loving the sound of ur moans and whimpers as u grind at his thigh "i bet u've been waiting for this to hapen right? to come here and for me to fuck u senseless" you whimpered in response, his knee raising slightly to press more on ur pussy making u scream his name, his eyes never leaving ur face, loving the way u look, mouth wide open, eyes rolling back, drooling at the pleasure u were feeling, your makeup a mess already, he groaned, his cock twitching at the sight, his hands leaving ur breast and traveling down to your ass, gripping it tightly and pulling ur body forward making u ride his thigh properly, his hands controlling ur every movement and not letting u stop even if u begged, he moved his face towards yours, his lips ghosting over yours, his hot breath fanning on your skin and you were so eager to kiss him, to taste his mouth that u've heard multiple times talking so dirty and sinful that it drove you crazy.

But he won't give in that easy, he moved away, his hand still controlling your hips and making you chase your orgasm, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he looked at the desperate mess he turned u into, your hands holding onto his shirt for dear life, your knuckles turning white, your eyes closed, your breathing uneven, your whole body trembling from the pleasure, your hips stuttering from overstimulation your thighs clenching around his knee. He chuckled "cum for me doll, cum for me like the desperate whore u are" you moaned in response, his voice and dirty talk sending u over the edge, the pleasure taking over ur whole body, a scream escaping your lips as you cum hard, your juices spilling out on his pants.

He let go of your body and you slumped down to the floor, a satisfied smile on ur face as you look at him through ur hazy vision, his hands fumbling with his belt and undoing his zipper, pulling out his cock and stroking it slowly, the precum spilling out of his slit, his eyes trained on your body, his tongue licking his bottom lip, he smirked and you knew that this won't end until he has his fill. "Strip"

You stood up on wobbly legs, the post orgasm high making your head spin but u still manage to strip out of ur clothes, standing naked in front of Heachan whose hungry eyes were scanning every inch of ur skin, his cock hard and ready, his hand stroking it as he looked at u. He groaned and walked towards you, his hand on the back of ur neck pushing u down until u were face to face with his cock, the tip touching ur lips leaving a trail of precum.

"Open your mouth little doll" despite his words he didn't give u a chance to do so shoving his cock inside your mouth, hitting the back of ur throat and making ur gag reflex kick in, he pushed his cock even deeper inside, making it hit ur throat as tears rolled down ur cheeks, you started coughing and trying to pull away but his hand didn't budge, not letting you escape, not until his whole cock was coated with ur saliva. You sucked him in and swallowed his cock whole, trying your best not to choke, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent moons on his skin.

He grunted, his hand fisting ur hair and forcing you to deep throat his cock, your jaw starting to hurt and you were close to passing out from the lack of air, Heachan groaned as he released his seed deep down your throat, you swallowed everything, his hands finally letting go of your hair and you fell on the floor this time gasping and trying to regain your breath. U were panting, drool and his cum drippin on ur chin, eyes teared up smeering ur mascrara and eyeliner, your body hot and sweaty and the only thing he wants to do is to make u beg for his mercy but he held himself back, pulling his cock back into his pants and adjusting them making u look at him confused "w-what are u doing?" you asked, the panic evident in your voice, scared that he'll leave u hanging. He raised his eyebrow at you and chuckled "what is it doll? did you think i'll let u go this easily?" his eyes darkening and the corner of his lips quirking up "what do u think? should i leave u now?" he asked the smirk evident on his lips as he saw how eargerly u were shaking ur head "use your words little doll" he teased and u blushed "please" u whimpered "please what? what do u want?" he teased, enjoying how flustered and nervous u are getting.

"I want you to fuck me" u whispered, eyes casted down, he lift ur chin forcing u to look at him , his other hand removing the strands of hair that got stuck on ur face "i don't know if u derserve it tbh" u pouted at him, making him laugh ur insides tightening delicously at the sound of it "so eager for me huh? u want me that bad? u want my cock so deep inside u?" u nodded eagerly and he smiled at ur desperation, his hand letting go of ur chin and wrapping around ur throat as he pulled you towards him, his other hand holding ur jaw forcing u to keep your eyes on him.

"I'll make sure to break u until all u can do is beg me to stop, until the only word left in ur mind is my name, until u forget every other name but mine" he whispered in ur ear, his grip tightening making u gasp and moan "is that what u want? tell me doll" you nodded, a silent "please" escaping ur lips and he smirked, satisfied with ur answer. He led u towards his room, pushing u onto the bed, his mouth finding its way to your neck, his teeth scraping ur skin and sucking on it harshly, leaving marks on the way. His tongue trailing a path from ur collarbones, to ur nipples, swirling his tongue around them before biting and sucking them harshly, making you moan loudly. "You're such a slut for me aren't you y/n? always teasing me, wanting my cock inside u" his hand reached down, two fingers plunging inside your pussy without warning, a loud moan leaving ur lips as his fingers curl inside u, his thumb pressing on ur clit, sending shivers down ur spine.

"Oh my god.. ahh" he chuckled, his mouth still leaving marks on ur skin while his fingers are moving inside u. "I love how wet u got for me baby, so wet and ready to take my cock" his thumb speed rubbing harshly against your clit making u squirm on his hold from the pleasure until u cum, your juices squirting and covering his fingers, incoherent words leaving ur mouth as u try to catch ur breath but he didn't let that happen his hand never stopping its movement, fingers thrusting in and out, curling and uncurling, making ur walls flutter around him, your whole body twitching as he overtimulated u while u were trying to pull him away from u, ur tears not stopping as u cried and begged him to stop, "Fuck… Heachan please… Please i can't anymore" u whimpered, tears rolling down ur cheeks as you kept cumming, his fingers never leaving, the pleasure was too much that u were about to pass out but he won't let u, his hands finally stopping, showing u his fingers that were coated with your juices before he licked them, enjoying the sweet taste of it.

"You're doing good doll, u taste so sweet" he cooed, his mouth leaving kisses and licks on ur face, his hands roaming around your body, making your breath hitch and ur skin tickle, his fingers finding its way to ur neck, wrapping around it and squeezing gently, your mouth forming a small o shape, his other hand holding your jaw, his mouth on top of yours, his tongue forcing its way inside and exploring ur mouth, u felt his fingers tightening its hold blocking the air making u dizzy the only thing u can hear is your own heartbeat, your eyes rolling back and closing, the pleasure making its way through ur body, your whole body going limp as he kisses the life out of you. He pulled away, his fingers letting go of ur neck and you gasped, trying to take in the air, Heachan kissed the side of ur neck before whispering in ur ears "are u ready baby?" he bit ur jaw "are u ready for my cock?" u nodded eagerly and he flipped you over, his fingers digging into ur hips, his cock entering inside u in one thrust making u cry out his name, the sudden pleasure overwhelming and making ur head spin, Heachan groaned at the way ur walls wrapped around him squeezing his cock so tight making his mind go blank and his self control slip, he moved, his hips moving in and out, his pace fast and rough, not caring whether it's hurting you or not, all he wanted was to have his way with you and mark you and make sure that you'll be thinking of him and him only.

"Shit… u feel so good y/n, so fucking tight" he cursed under his breath, his hands holding onto ur hips, his fingers bruising the soft skin as u were gone, ur mind so foggy only gasping and moaning as he pounded into u, his cock hitting deep, his hips slamming hard into your ass, a string of curses leaving his lips, the pleasure so great and overwhelming that his mind is clouded, all he can think about is you and his need to release, his need to cum deep inside and to make sure that u r full and dripping with his cum.

You were so close, u can feel it, you were about to cum,your whole body trembled as his fingers were digging harder into your skin holding you close and tight, u felt his thrusts getting sloppier and faster, his cock reaching the deepest spots, hitting your g spot over and over again, and when his hand reached around and pressed on your clit, it was over for you, you came with a scream, his name leaving your mouth as ur thighs were shaking, your eyes rolling back, ur whole body trembling, and Heachan wasn't done, he groaned, his movements slowing down as he filled you with his cum, his cock pulsating inside of you, his cum dripping down ur thighs as he pulled out. Heachan was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his hands moving away from your hips watching intensly how his cum oozed out of you, a smug look on his face, proud that he marked you as his, your whole body aching, his hands were all over you, tracing every bruise and bite mark he made, his lips trailing kisses on your neck, a small smile on his face as he held you in his arms making u cling to him more before u felt something poking ur back and u widen ur eyes so tired "Heachan please no" u whined trying to get away from his hold but his grip was tight, not letting go as his lips curled up, his smile growing wider "just one more time y/n" and u were sure by the tone of his voice that he doesn't mean that at all.

#nct dream #nct #kpop smut #kpop #nct haechan #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck

[astralis-ortus]

love, am i home?

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— how can you tell it's not simply an infatuation?

w.count → 0.6k genre → angst, one-sided love warnings → minor cussing, mention of alcohol but no described consumption a.n → honestly i don't even know what i wrote i am feeling feelings soooo yeah! also, there's a few mentions of bambam as the home owner lol

“do you reckon i’ll fall in love someday?’

chan’s odd, unprovoked question nearly made you choke on the strawberry-lychee juice you were trying so hard to savor. worse, your heart also took a hit from it—which, frankly, you should have been preparing yourself for from the day you realized that your hiking heart bpm whenever chan was sitting a little too close was not exactly a normal reaction between friends.

“yeah,” you barely managed to quip a reply, setting your half-empty paper cup on the coffee table across the tan leather couch before chan could send another unwarranted hit on your poor heart. “i mean, didn’t you have a few relationships before?”

well fuck—now he’s going to elaborate, isn’t he. good job, dumbass.

sometimes you wonder why you’re trying so hard to be a good friend when you do realize it will only further tighten the chains wrapped around your chest. does bambam have some alcohol in the fridge? also, where the fuck is he?

“fair point,” a long sigh escaped his lungs as chan fully leaned onto bambam’s ridiculously large sofa, eyes tracing whatever interesting shape he could find on the ceiling of their still-missing friend’s apartment, “but i wonder if those feelings were actually… love, you know? not merely infatuation?”

“i don’t, actually,” you playfully snickered, hoping the faint smile on your lips would help in numbing the dull ache spreading on your chest. “i mean, as far as my experience goes, i think it has always been love for me.”

“and how does that feel?”

“how?” the faint urgency in his voice pulled your line of gaze towards chan—unexpectedly meeting his pair of curious brown eyes, and you sighed. are you really going to say it?

you were preparing a joke, really. deflecting, avoiding his question, all that thing.

you really were.

and you know, with every part of your bones, you’re probably going to regret this.

“uh, well, it feels like…”

the butterflies when i see your name lit up my phone screen.

the odd twist in the pit of my stomach when i hear you talk about that new friend you made and how you thought they were beautiful.

the way my lips followed yours into a smile when you excitedly told me about a new song idea and how spring flooded my chest when you said it’s our little secret.

the sudden void when you told me you asked that new friend of yours to go out for dinner, and how my heart went numb when you brightly exclaimed that it would technically count as a first date.

an excruciatingly long roller coaster of emotions,

an endless hike under the scorching summer sun,

a long night staring at where the waves breaks,

and yet…

“it was home.”

“…home?”

“yeah,” you shrugged, fingers hiding inside the sleeves of your hoodie while you pull your knees closer to your chest, “home.”

“it’s everything that is good, everything that’s not quite there, and yet you can’t help but find yourself longing for every piece of it. you accept that it’s not going to be perfect and never will be, and yet you’re still willing to continuously nurture that feeling because, well, you love them, and even if it eventually didn’t work out… you’d still think it’s worth the effort to try.”

you don’t know what the silence between you now meant.

you don’t know, and probably would never want to find out.

you’d hate to know who he thinks about when he opens his mouth,

and you’d forever thank bambam for his impeccable timing with bags full of thai foods in his hand.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

#stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #chan x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids fanfix #skz fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan x you #skz x you #stray kids x you #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan au #stray kids au #skz au #isa's fics

[beenbaanbuun]

darling being left alone with yeosang for a long period while addams!matz has to leave for a few days (business or what have you)

yeosang dreads that shit as soon as they tell him. he KNOWS darling is gonna test his resolve and he KNOWS how it's gonna go, but darling's just so excited to stay with him, and hongjoong makes some passing joke about yeosang being the "guard dog"

so now he's like "well someone has to :|" but his tail is wagging anyway

oh this is adorable and i need to talk about it!!

okay, so the only two people taking it well would be san—he gets to go with matz as a chauffeur and is thanking the gods that he doesn’t have to be alone in the house with darling and yeosang for 2 days—and darling herself. whilst she isn’t necessarily happy about her precious mommy and daddy abandoning her for a couple of days (hongjoong’s dramatics are really rubbing off on her) she’s also well aware of her own capability. sure, she hasn’t had to take care of herself in a while, but it’s not like she’s forgotten how to cook and wash her own hair, right? she’ll be fine! and it’s not like she’ll be alone…

but yeosang is very much planning on her being alone for most of the two days. with no hongjoong or seonghwa there to distract her, all the attention will be on him. it’s fine for an hour or two, but a whole two days? he’ll barricade his bedroom door if he has to!

“you’ll take care of her, right?” the usually strong and dependable seonghwa asks yeosang with a shaky voice, and the wolf realises that perhaps he’ll have to spend more time with you that he initially planned on. that’s if he doesn’t want to get punished when you inevitably tell on him for ignoring you. with a tight smile he pulls darling into his side and nods. his tail flicks a little when she nuzzles into neck with a grin.

“of course he will, cara mia,” hongjoong mutters with danger in his voice. yeosang takes it for what it is, a warning—protect their darling or face the consequences. yeosang mentally resigns himself to being darling’s personal teddy bear for the next couple of days, and all his hopes of peace and quiet melt away before his eyes. “i’m sure the guard dog will keep her safe, won’t you, mutt?”

“someone has to, right?” darling just curls further into the wolf’s side and the tell-tale thudding on his tail beating against the ground gives up the game. he cant exactly pretend not to be at least a little excited when his tail is thumping against the floor like a drum beat. “the poor thing has been overly spoiled by the pair of you! you can’t expect her to look after herself, can you?”

and again, darling can look after herself and everyone in the room knows that. it doesn’t stop the knowing smile that gets passed around, though; she can look after herself, but she’d much rather leave that responsibility up to the men that she has wrapped around her pretty little finger. life’s so much simpler when all she has to worry about is being doted on…

#ateez x reader #matz x reader #yeosang x reader #opposites attract universe

[queervocasongtourn]

¡¡¡¡¡ QUEER VOCALOID SONG TOURNAMENT SUBMISSIONS OPEN !!!!!

Hi! This blog is exactly as advertised: a competition to see what vocaloid song truly is the most iconic queer icon to ever queer. I saw too many queer icons losing in other polls, so i decided to make a poll where our dear songs not only inevitably lose - they will also win for sure! If you have any queer song recs, please do fill this form to submit it! A couple of things to take into account tho:

Please do not spam submit the same song, i swear i see it the first time! Do feel free to submit as many different songs as you want to tho

Any language is fine, any vocal synth is fine (must be vocal synths though! backing vocals like PinocchioP is fine, human vocals like in kikuohana songs is not!) as long as it's a Vocal Synth Original™!

Please do only submit through the form!! Asks however are fine for questions and/or propaganda, so feel free to spam!

yes magnet and villain are already considered. alluring secret black vow is too, as are 1000 year wiegenlied/daughter of white. other than that, go ham!!

Submissions will be open for A WEEK, so until May 13th

Reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated! I'm going to tag some popular vocaloid tournaments/polls in hopes more people see this!

@doyoulikethis-vocaloid-song

@animemusicbrackets

@vocaloid-song-of-the-day

@vocaloid-producer-battle

@vocaloidsongpoll

@vocaloidshowdown

(Obviously do not feel obligated at all to reblog or interact with this !! Also please do let me know if you want to be removed from this post! Thank you very much !!)

#vocaloid #queer #vocaloid tournament #vsynth

[aesethewitch]

Ghosts 101

Spirit work has always been the ultimate base of my spiritual and magical practices. Some of my earliest clear memories are of encounters with spirits, and I’ve always had a talent for sensing them. In a horror movie setting, I’d be that person who gets the weird feeling in the hallway right before all the doors slam shut at once, feeling the shift in the air before whatever ghoul’s around makes its mischief.

I mention this right out of the gate so that you, the reader, know that most of what I know about ghosts (and spirits in general) comes from personal experience. Not books, not videos, not other people’s work. There’s a lot of UPG in this little essay. Just keep that in mind as you read.

If there’s something you disagree with or have different experiences with, I’m not surprised! Everything in the realm of spirits, including ghosts, can really only be theorized about. Disagreeing opinions, experiences, and theories are very, very welcome. Drop ‘em in the replies, reblogs, or my inbox. Or, if you want, make a post of your own and tag me in it. I want to see them!

Anyways, with that lengthy UPG disclaimer out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff.

What is a Ghost?

I think it’s important to note, though kind of obvious, that ghosts are a sub-category of spirit. All ghosts are spirits, but not all spirits are ghosts. But what is a ghost, exactly?

As with most things, theories differ. In general, ghosts are thought to be… well, dead people. Some folks think that ghosts are the soul, essence, or spirit of a person who has died. Others believe that ghosts are just a fragment of a person’s spirit. But I’ve also seen theories stating that ghosts aren’t really ghosts, they’re echoes or imprints of human energy that once existed in a place.

Then, there are folks who think ghosts don’t exist at all. I can’t really blame them; empirical, repeatable proof of ghosts is tough to get in order to be satisfying in a scientific way. The only reason I personally believe in ghosts is because I’ve had several encounters that can’t otherwise be explained. Plus, for me, it goes hand-in-hand with other types of spirit work. Ghosts being real just makes sense with the framework I use to engage with the world.

So, obviously, there isn’t one single, concrete answer as to what a ghost is. We can only theorize.

My Theories

My personal theory aligns more or less with one of the more common theories. I think that ghosts are the lingering spirits of living beings who have died. Note I say living beings — some people think that only humans can become ghosts, but I think that any living thing can become one. In the case of plants and trees, ghosts behave somewhat differently than animals; but that’s a whole other conversation to be had. For the sake of this post, I plan on focusing mainly on human ghosts.

The way I understand it, ghosts are the whole, complete essence of a person that lingers in the physical realm for a time after their physical body no longer functions. I believe there are also energetic imprints — energy left over from the living, often (but not always) caused and fueled by strong emotions and lingering ties of memory in a place. These imprints can seem like a haunting, but the key difference is that they aren’t sentient. They may echo when you call, but they won’t give answers that are intelligent or timely according to questions asked or stimulus provided by the living. Sort of like recording a ringing bell; playing the bell’s chime back doesn’t ring the bell again. It just plays the sound it knows.

Now, death does funny things to the mind. Depending on the circumstances of the death, a ghost might have full awareness that they were alive, have died, and are now a ghost. I find this is most common for people who died of old age and long-term diseases: people who knew they were nearing the end, for one reason or another.

Ghosts formed from more sudden deaths, on the other hand, are likelier to not know what happened. They may figure it out given time, or they may never learn the truth. As with most other things dealing with individuals, the exact circumstances vary. No two ghosts are exactly the same. Some people don’t become ghosts at all, I’ve found! They simply move on.

Another important aspect of my theories on ghosts is that I think they fade. Unless they’re continually tied to a space, fed a steady supply of energy, and purposely kept in the physical realm, I believe that they can’t sustain a form here. Without a physical body to keep the spirit, soul, consciousness, or whatever we are, a ghost is gradually pulled into the more ethereal side of things. The astral plane, the other side, the afterlife, et cetera; I’m not sure, personally, where they end up. Maybe it depends on what they were attached to in life, maybe it doesn’t. Who knows!

I think this is where I draw the distinction between ghosts and ancestor spirits. “Ancestor spirits,” in my practice, aren’t individual people from my past. Rather, they’re a sort of collective consciousness made up of all the people who came before me who are connected to me through familial, cultural, and blood ties. I like to believe that ghosts become part of that collective when they fade out of the physical world. All this is to say, ghosts are just people who are dead. They won’t be around forever unless they’re bound and kept “fed.”

On Hauntings

The first half of the things everyone wants to know is: How do we know when a ghost is actually present? It’s a good question, one that’s hotly debated in ghost hunting circles. For the sake of argument, I think we need to define the word haunting first.

To be clear, a haunting isn’t just when a ghost is present. A ghost just passing through or lingering for a little while doesn’t necessarily make a haunting. That would be better described as a presence. A haunting, in my opinion, is a long-term, sustained presence of a ghost or imprint.

And the first step to dealing with a haunting is to determine whether the place you’re in is actually haunted. You don’t have to have super sensitive psychic powers to detect the presence of ghosts. Some folks might have an easier time of it than others, but anyone can learn how to discern when a ghost is hanging around.

It’s important to note that commonly-reported signs of ghost presences and hauntings are also symptoms of other issues like mold, electrical issues, pressure changes, carbon monoxide, stress and anxiety, noisy neighbors, animals outside or in the walls (including bugs), sleep apnea or insomnia, and more. It’s important to consider mundane reasons before leaping to magical, spiritual, or ghostly ones.

With that in mind, let’s say that you’ve ruled out all the mundane possibilities, and you’re still left wondering whether that place is capital-H Haunted. How can you tell?

In my experience, there are a few signs that will stick out:

Disembodied sounds, such as voices, knocking, and walking

A pervasive chill or prickling feeling, particularly on parts of the body that are covered

A feeling of being touched, poked, or prodded

Visual disturbances like mist or shadows

Sudden smells that can’t be explained, such as perfume, tobacco, or food

Batteries in things like phones and cameras draining very quickly

Now, note that even with these signs, a lot of these things can happen with spirits that aren’t ghosts. The only way to know for absolutely sure that you’re dealing with a ghost and not a mischievous, physical-realm-poking non-human spirit is to make contact and ask.

My fellow sensitive individuals may experience other signs during a haunting. Depending on where your abilities lie, you might experience stronger sensations or detect signs of a haunting earlier than others who haven’t trained these senses.

What Causes a Haunting?

It’s hard to say. Some people (particularly ghost hunters with big TV shows who need to make those viewer numbers go up) say that ghosts stick around because they’re pissed off or had some tragedy befall them in life. Trauma ties them to their surroundings, trapping them between life and death as a specter, or something like that.

Honestly, all that tells me is that these guys are trying to sell you something (their show). I’ve met maybe two ghosts that were like that, and they had extremely good reasons for it. That’s not to say there aren’t traumatized ghosts out there; just that they aren’t nearly as common or the only explanation for a haunting.

I’m personally not sure what causes some ghosts to linger over others. I think it does partly have to do with emotion, but it may also have to do with the amount of energy the person had left when they died. For example, the ghost of my great-aunt faded within a couple weeks after she died, because she was old, tired, and ready. On the other hand, the ghost of a guy I went to school with who died in an accident a few years ago is still lingering on the train tracks where it happened. It’s an extremely individual thing.

Another part of lingering ghosts and hauntings, I think, is interaction with the living. Without a physical body, the ghost has no native source of energy. Part of working with ghosts, for me, has been learning how to share energy (mine or from other sources) with ghosts to help them communicate, interact, and continue existing. When the energy runs out, they fade. With a steady supply of energy sources, a ghost could theoretically haunt a place indefinitely.

So, what causes a haunting? I don’t really know for sure! What causes a haunting to linger? A steady source of energy, I think.

Making Contact

So, you want to talk to a ghost. Cool! You’ve got a ton of options at your disposal.

There are the witch-typical methods of spirit communication, most of which would work fairly well for talking to ghosts. I’ve talked a little bit about spirit communication methods before in a more general sense, but I find that ghosts don’t always respond well to divination.

In my experience, simpler tools are better. Unless I knew for a fact that a person understood tarot in life, I would be unlikely to use it to talk to their ghost. Tools you can easily explain that provide clear answers would likely serve you best for most ghosts. My biggest suggestions are pendulums, which are easy for ghosts to understand and manipulate, and ouija boards. Yes, yes, I can hear the gasping and booing already.

Listen. Ouija boards are not evil. Ouija is a game. But talking boards really are good tools for talking to ghosts. Again, they’re easy to understand and manipulate. Plus, you can get really clear answers from a talking board if your ghost is chatty.

There are other tools that have been popularized by ghost hunters that may come in handy, too. Personally, I’ve had success with voice recorders catching EVP (electronic voice phenomena) and, on one notable occasion, a ghost box.

Honestly, I’ve had little use for tools like these outside of ghost hunting scenarios where we’re trying to prove ghosts’ existence in a scientific sense. Voice recorders catching wisps of voice in the background are super cool, and I definitely would suggest having one on hand when doing a ghost adventure. But they’re not great for in the moment communication, since you have to stop a recording to listen back to it and then react who knows how long later.

Where ghost boxes are concerned, I’ve only had the one opportunity to try it out. We were in a location I knew to be haunted thanks to previous visits, and it did seem to work okay. I’d like to try it again sometime to see if it was just a fluke or if it’s an actual, viable thing to use. With any tool commonly used in ghost hunting TV shows (or that’s otherwise Popular By Spectacle), I always approach with serious skepticism. Those shows are all about creating a reaction that can be captured; and when they don’t receive a response, they’re liable to make shit up for the cameras. It’s annoying, especially when a tool might really be useful but it’s shrouded in the very necessary skepticism around these shows.

Now, my personal go-to method to connect to ghosts is to just… talk to them. I don’t usually need to use any tools for it. But I’ve spent many, many, many years honing the skills needed to do this. It’s worth learning how to do if you plan on working with spirits, but it does take effort to get good at, even if you have an innate talent for it. If you can, take some time to develop a sense for spirits. Learn what spiritual presences feel like for you. You may not get immediate results at first, but the skill of sensing energy can apply across the board. And even if you get no “real” response, you can still talk to the ghosts.

When you go to communicate with a ghost, just remember that they’re still a person. They’re not a spectacle, though they are fascinating. Not all ghosts are going to want to talk to you. Not all ghosts are going to like you. Be respectful. Treat that ghost like you’d treat any stranger out in the wild. Don’t be an asshole.

On Mediumship

This is mostly just a brief note, since it’s an adjacent topic that I’ve gotten questions about before.

Not everyone who talks to or works with ghosts is a medium. A medium is a particular career or path that describes someone who acts as a connector between the living and the dead. I tend to think of mediums as the telephone in a conversation — relaying messages back and forth. I used to do medium work all the time. It’s an exhausting path that requires a lot of self-discipline and solid boundaries dealing with both the living and the dead. I don’t do it anymore, though I do still communicate and work with ghosts regularly.

Just keep in mind that you don’t have to take on the title or mantle of “medium” in order to talk to, work with, or research ghosts.

Ghostly Q&A

I received a handful of questions about ghosts in the run up to posting this; thank you everyone who sent in a question! If you’ve got a question and want my perspective on it, feel free to drop it in my inbox or in the replies/reblogs of this post.

From @moonmargaritas: “How do you tell the difference between nervousness at discerning the presence of a ghost (new practitioner who still gets jitters 🤙) and sensing actual hostile intent?”

This is a really great question! This is something I had to work through myself when I got started. And honestly, I still get jitters sometimes many years later! It can be scary, even when you’re used to it.

The biggest piece of advice I have is to learn how your body experiences nervousness or anxiety. Where does that sit in your body? What kind of feelings to you experience?

For me, nervousness is a sort of itchy tingling around my shoulders and tightness around my ribs. It also manifests as the feeling of being watched or observed too closely. It’s easy to misattribute those feelings to a ghost’s presence — tingling and feeling like something’s watching? Those are classic ghost interactions! But I know that’s what anxiety feels like. That’s how I feel when the lights go out too fast or I hear a branch snap in the distance.

Once you know, you can work past those feelings and focus on what’s actually happening with the ghost (or spirit). I think of it like knowing when someone’s mad at me. Are they mad, or am I just anxious? It’s the same idea.

And, as a note, ghosts with hostile intent are few and far between. I personally don’t think that most ghosts, even the nastiest ghosts, can actually hurt you; they don’t have the energy resources for it. The ones that do are obvious, and you won't really have to question their intentions. However, you can always work with the communication methods mentioned above to determine the ghost’s feelings and intents. If you’re worried about negative interactions, a bit of salt and rosemary in a little pouch placed in your pocket goes a long way for protection.

From anonymous: “What’s an unusual way people could use to communicate with spirits? Like an expected divination tool or something we should pay more attention to.”

Hmmmm! Honestly, I think that classic, actual call and response is underrated specifically when it comes to ghosts. Yeah, we’ve all seen the Ghost TV Guys call out for a knock or a word or whatever, but when they get a response, they wig out and don’t do anything with it. It’s annoying!! Because genuinely, saying “tap once for yes, twice for no” and asking questions is a really, really solid way to communicate with a ghost when you have no other tools that will work on hand. I’ve had ghosts lead me to important places and objects within houses doing this. I think more people should give it a try without falling prey to the over-the-top reaction of “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

From anonymous: What advice would you give someone dealing with a haunting?

For a run-of-the-mill, regular old haunting? Let it run its course. Most hauntings, when left alone, will fade. However, if you’re inclined to talk to the ghost(s), get them to leave quicker, or get them to be less intrusive in your life, there are a few things you could do.

To talk to them, choose a method of communication and try to reach out like I described above. Get to know them if you can, and set some ground rules. If they won’t (or can’t) communicate with you, and you really want them gone, I would probably recommend a gentle banishing ritual. Something that doesn’t scream “get out” so much as kindly say, “It’s time to move on.”

Or, if you don’t want the ghost gone, just a little quieter at night or out of your bedroom, you could set up wards or activity-dampeners around specific spaces. Choose ingredients and spells that protect against unwanted spirits or just unwanted activity. Keep it activated all day long or just at night while you’re trying to sleep.

Thanks for Reading!

Posts like this are usually put on my Ko-Fi as exclusives first, but since the questions in this one came from Tumblr, I decided to post it in both places at once! (:

With that said, if you did enjoy this post, consider throwing a couple dollars at my tip jar. Tips, commissions, and shop purchases get you 30 days of access to my entire backlog of exclusive posts and upcoming ones. Monthly members get continuous access plus extra benefits! All support helps me keep the lights on, so it's very much appreciated.

If you've got Ghost Questions, shoot 'em my way! My inbox is open.

#aese speaks #spirit work #ghosts #talking to ghosts #hauntings #paranormal #witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #this post is Super Basic #it was going to have More Details but like. it was getting TOO long yknow #so. this is uhhhh part one #ghost post series

[ingravinoveritas]

Just saw a post as well as a thread on Twitter about an incident that occurred at the stage door of Nye tonight and I am so sad and sickened to hear about this "fan's" behavior, both toward Michael and toward other fans. I've done many stage doors in the past (the most recent was going to see Ink on Broadway just before the pandemic) and seen a lot of entitled/unruly behavior from fans, but this woman and her mother barging into the bar, demanding a meet and greet, and then coming out and being horrific to other fans really takes the cake.

Michael works his ass off for endless hours to put on an amazing show every day/night. He gives 110% to every line, every step, every note in that musical number. Nye is a physically demanding play/role, and to get a show of that caliber from someone who is a master of his craft is more than anyone could ask for. Stage door--as lovely as it is, as fun as it can be--is not something he is required to do, especially when he's already feeling exhausted or under the weather. One thing the last several months have made clear is that Michael loves meeting fans--taking pictures, giving hugs, signing stuff, and just connecting with people. But the fact that this is not even the first time we've heard about fans going into the bar to bug him should be more than enough to give us all pause.

No one is entitled to Michael's time or attention. This particularly reminds me of an incident on Twitter a few years ago where one fan and their friends would not stop tagging Michael and demanding that he say something they wanted him to say. He'd been so incredibly giving and generous of his time with fans up until that point...and yet the second he drew a boundary, that fan and some others turned on him. Amazingly, that alone didn't put him off of engaging with the fandom entirely, but I have been in enough fandoms in my life to know that it is exactly behavior like this that will ruin things for everyone.

It also seems that Michael did come out following this incident tonight but had to leave, and he actually apologized to the nice fans who were still waiting (while apparently looking visibly upset himself). I know he apologized once before as well after a different fan went into the bar to get him, but we're beyond absurdity at this point. That Michael feels compelled to apologize for something that was not even his fault and especially after what that fan did absolutely breaks my heart, and is something that just should not be happening.

The run of Nye at the NT is nearly over, and I hope this won't put him off of doing stage door in the future (either for the remainder of this run or when it transfers to Cardiff), but I honestly would not blame him one bit if it did. What a loss it would be, though, both for the fans and for Michael...

#michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #nye the play #national theatre #why do people do this #also if anyone wonders why I'm almost hoping David doesn't do a stage door for Macbeth #this is why #i can't even with this nonsense #for this woman to then try and ruin it for other fans is especially disgusting #but i saw behavior like this in my old fandom #and it is a truly ugly thing #and Michael does not deserve this one bit #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

[tadpolesonalgae]

Two-Faced[***]

Dark!Rhys x reader

a/n: Honestly I’ve tried to edit this so many times I can no longer tell if I like it or not? Also this is a prequel to Desk Pet and goes along with that universe but can be read on its own 🧡💛

warnings: non-con, shadow play(?), bdsm themes, suggested breeding kink, smut, overstimulation, somnophilia, suggested dacryphilia(?), a little peak into Rhys’ mind at the end

word count: 8,875

-Desk Pet- -Play-Mate-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You glance into the mirror, readjusting how the thin golden chain hangs around your neck, the small pendant sitting pretty between your breasts.

Easing in a deep breath, you check everything else is appropriately placed, nothing revealing too much skin, no fabric dipping where it shouldn’t, everything neatly wrapped up. You could swear you can see how your heart pulses in your chest in the reflection, a slight shudder passing beneath your flesh as you think ahead to what might unfold.

The deep purple gown settles comfortably over your body, dark and velvety, the neckline modest without being conservative, the hem of the skirts brushing just shy of your feet, sleeves that run down to your wrists, locked in matching golden chains, slim and elegant. Your lips are painted darker than usual to match the purple of your dress, with small golden pins keeping some strands of hair in place. Is it too much?

Dining with a High Lord… Even if you’re friendly, you don’t want to suggest something you can’t give, nor flirt where you can’t fulfil.

In the recent months, you know you haven’t been imagining the intensity in his eyes, how they sweep so deliciously over you, slowly, under the guise of polite appreciation. But there’s nothing polite about the way he looks at you. How it sets your skin on fire, pulse spiking with the slightest curve of his mouth. How your breath hitches whenever his skin brushes yours, fingers grazing your waist to guide you someplace—gentle dominance that makes your body flush with heat. Even at the faintest hint of his scent, you’d found yourself seeking out his gaze, as if sharing in a forbidden fantasy together.

Maybe it’s your fault for letting it get too far. Letting it escalate without consideration for how high he might truly be able to take you. He certainly isn’t the only male in your life. You hadn’t even realised how far things had gone with Rhys until the male you’d been seeing casually had brought it up, and you’d felt a tug of guilt in your gut. The two of you weren’t together exactly, but it definitely wasn’t just sex. There was too much emotional intimacy for it to be such a black-and-white situation. Emotions bleeding over where they should have been kept in line.

A triptych of knocks are landed to your door, gentle but firm, and you tear your gaze away from your reflection—attractive as it is, you shouldn’t keep him waiting.

Easing in a breath, you open the door, pulse spiking as you take him in, raising your chin to meet his violet gaze.

On the wooden deck of your house, stood beneath the warm faelight to illuminate the entranceway, he dominates the space, your attention zeroing in on his figure, dressed immaculately as usual, shirt revealing a peak at the appetisingly tan skin beneath, a suggestion of ink peering over the hem of the linen.

“Rhysand,” you greet with a smile, opening the door wider, previous worries forgotten as he takes up your attention whole. “Rhysand?” He drawls, brow quirking in amusement as he leans forward, and you step into his invitation. “Have I done something to irritate you?” He muses beside your ear, bodies pressed a little closer than appropriate as your arms wrap over his shoulders. His palm splays between your shoulder blades, pressing you deeper into his sturdy heat, spine arching under his direction. “You show up dressed as you are—I thought you said this was a casual dinner,” you smile as you pull away, arms still wrapped around one another.

Violet eyes sweep across your features, the skin between your shoulder-blades tingling beneath his broad palm, and that intensity burns down into you. “You look like this for casual dinners?” He replies, lips curving with amusement. “I look like this for my High Lord,” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully, stepping out of his hold, already missing his heat. “Will you tell me where we’re going to dine? Or are you going to insist on keeping it a secret until the last second?”

“The last second might be a bit of a stretch,” he chuckles, offering you his arm, “but I know how you like surprises, so perhaps arrangements can be made.”

“You could winnow us there with ease,” you muse lightly, linking your arm with his, door closing at your back as he guides you down the steps leading into your front garden, then out into the street.

Violet eyes flick over you, your skin tightening beneath his open attention, meeting his gaze. “A lady deserves preparation,” he replies, heat fluttering in your lower abdomen at the sonorous drawl. “I’m sure you’d still succeed with the surprise element regardless,” you laugh, lips warm from the smile. “I suppose I could always blindfold you?” He suggests, and you gently elbow him, rolling your eyes again, trying to quell the traitorous heat that’s unspooling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d trip up and break something,” you counter fondly, swiftly averting you gaze so he won’t be able to somehow read your emotions. The attraction that always seems to become much more prominent in his presence. More pertinent, and palpable.

“I could direct you,” he replies lightly, a curve to his soft mouth, “I like to think I’m fairly good at giving instructions.”

“You’re practiced at giving orders. There’s a difference,” you counter, unable to help the smile on your lips—that’s undoubtedly shining in your eyes. “Besides, I don’t trust myself in heels.”

“You certainly picked a tricky pair,” he admits, glancing down to the thin golden strings wrapped around your ankles, disappearing beneath your dress. “I’m sure I’ll be regretting that by the end of the night,” you sigh, taking care to avoid any uneven surfaces. “If you need a reprieve, feel free to say,” he chuckles lowly, guiding you down another street, and you silently admire how seamlessly he blends in with the inky darkness of his court. “I’d be more than happy to sweep you off your feet, if needed.”

————

You’d been surprised when he’d taken you not to a pre-established restaurant but to a house he’d recently purchased by the riverside—for ample view of the Sidra, he’d explained, when you’d asked why he’d picked that part of the city.

He’d guided you in, as he usually does when you’re out together, a hand kept lightly against your lower back to keep you steady, especially when passing over cobbles. You’d noticed how his touch had smoothly migrated from lightly brushing against your skin on the way into the house, to settling securely around your waist once away from the public, a response of equal parts concern and satisfaction humming in your chest. It’s hard to keep your head when he singles you out so obviously—like there’s something special about you in particular. Something he can only find in you. How are you supposed to resist a male who makes you feel so treasured?

“You certainly succeeded with surprising me,” you smile, leaning back in your chair, content with the meal—mansaf, with goat’s meat. “I didn’t know you could cook like that?” You muse, meeting his gaze across the cozy table, tucked away in an alcove on the library he’s slowly filling up, tall windows to your right, providing a clear view of the Sidra, rooftops shadowed under the night’s sky. His smile isn’t as full as you’d hoped, instead seeming quieter than usual. “I don’t have much time to indulge anymore,” he answers, and you straighten in your seat. “It would be nice, to pursue my own interests. From time to time.”

Your expression softens as you watch him from across the table—he makes it easy to forget the things he’s withstood. It’s easy to speak with him, to be around him.

“I appreciate you finding the time to do so tonight,” you say quietly, briefly glancing down at your empty plate before returning your gaze to his. “It was delicious.” His eyes twinkle, and a small smile makes its way onto your mouth at the familiar gleam. “I’m glad you thought so,” he admits, “it’s been a while.”

“If this is how you are out of practice, it might be for the better you don’t have more time on your hands. You’d run people out of business,” you say quietly.

There’s a pause that passes between you, and you feel yourself being pulled in, already so thoroughly snared by his riptides you haven’t noticed you’ve been pulled under.

“I know it isn’t much,” you say lowly, a little roughly, pushing up from your seat to walk to his side. “But you deserve the time to indulge in your own interests, Rhys. To be able to enjoy life like the people you devote yourself to protecting do.” Violet eyes lift to yours, swirling and depthless, pulling you further down. “You’ve mentioned what that time was like,” you manage quietly, voice thick with emotion, at all he’s sacrificed to keep Velaris safe. To keep his people safe. “I can’t even imagine what it was like,” you murmur, hand resting gently on his shoulder, hoping you aren’t overstepping.

It isn’t often he talks about what had been done to him, what he’d been forced to do, but when he does…you listen. Take in every word, let him know you hear him, at the very least. That he has someone he can share his life with, someone he can come to when he’s alone, and know you’ll be there.

“You’re out now,” you whisper, “you made it.”

“I’m in pieces,” he murmurs, expression neutral despite the sadness of the admission.

“It’s okay to be in pieces, Rhys,” you reply, stepping into him when he shifts to face you, his hand coming to rest atop your own, fingers dancing to your wrist, wrapping over your forearm carefully. As if afraid to break you, too. “You’re allowed to grieve yourself, after what happened.”

His fingers tighten a little around your wrist, then he’s smoothly standing from his chair, though you don’t step back, keeping together as his hand slowly settles on your waist.

“I don’t think…” he trails off, voice breathy and hushed, and you hold him a little tighter, free palm settling on his upper arm. His throat rolls, and he pulls you the barest bit closer, bodies connecting as heat is shared and swapped, scents pushing together. “I don’t think I’m the same as I was before,” he admits quietly, violet eyes pinning you to the floor, touch pressing into your skin. “That’s okay,” you whisper, “time changes people. It’s okay to shift in essence.”

“No. Not like that,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your own, your hand brushing against his jaw, his palms wrapping tighter around you, growing more assured in their hold, like you’re becoming a part of him. “I can’t stand it,” he admits, brow pressing to your own, his eyes shut, a troubled expression on his beautiful features. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

You peer up at him, now cupping his face in both your hands, leaning into him. “What is it?” You ask softly, “you can tell me. I want to know what’s troubling you.” Violet eyes open slightly, darkened by his lashes as he looks down at you, brows furrowed in what looks like indecision. Or regret. But then it’s gone in a flash, easing out into something more calm, and familiar. “I want to be happy,” he confesses quietly, words brushing over your mouth so tenderly. “I don’t want to be alone again. How I was.”

“You aren’t alone,” you murmur, thumb brushing his cheek. “You have your family, you’re back with them again—you’re back here again. You survived.” But he shakes his head, and you push slightly closer, letting him know whatever he wants, he can confess to you. You’ll be there for him if he needs.

“I can’t stand not having it anymore,” he breathes, hold tightening on you, voice deeper, rougher, than before. “I should be happy, shouldn’t I?”

Your brows pull together, curving as you nod, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, slotting yourself into the familiar lines of his body. “Everyone deserves to be happy,” you whisper, heart aching, “even if they don’t believe so.” You swallow, feeling hot beneath his gaze, but refusing to step away, not when this is the most vulnerable he’s ever allowed himself to be with you. “If you…” you swallow again, eyes darting away briefly before returning to his. “If you know what you want…” You trail off, bewitched by the swirling intensity of his gaze. Your breath catches, aware of how close you are, how intimate the embrace has become. “…you should have it, Rhys.”

He exhales heavily, relief loosening the tension in his body, then he’s leaning forward, mouth opening over yours.

You freeze, not having expected the bold action, but quickly melt beneath his touch, all previous thought fading to nothing as his lips slant over yours, soft and hot, and his hands are moving across the planes of your body, strengthening as you’re pulled impossibly closer. He’s a really good kisser.

His tongue flicks out, and you start, reeling from his pace, but he’s gently turning you around, mouth still sealed against your own as he pushes you into the wall, hips against your own while his arm wraps tight around your waist, other hand settling over the nape of your neck that’s so small in comparison. Your palms stutter as they shift, unsure where to place them, having been swept off your feet, caught with your guard down. You hadn’t realised just how intense the attraction had become—for either of you.

Rhys makes a hungry sound from the back of his throat, and your insides flutter, spine arching into him, breasts pressing fully against his chest—but you need to slow down. You hadn’t planned on any of this unfolding so rapidly, had intended to be wary of his advances, of the mutual lust binding you together. It’s dominating; overpowering, mind-warping to struggle against, but you have enough sense to know acting on this desire will only confuse things. Mixing tender affection with the sharpened blades of lust never ends well.

“Rhys,” you murmur, pulling away enough to get his name out, but his mouth seals over your own again, and you fight to not be dragged under by hunger, by your desire to follow in his motions. This isn’t something you can rush, if you want it to work. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging him back firmly, heat warming your cheeks. “Rhys, we—”

His hands leave your body, roughly gripping your wrists and shoving them back against the wall, hips keeping you pinned in place as he devours you, prying your mouth open with embarrassing ease, arousal making it hard to resist. His tongue stokes over your own, and a heady feeling rushes your veins, need pounding in your blood, losing grip fast as he sinks his claws into you.

Rhys pulls away from you, and you open your mouth to tell him to stop, but he’s dipping lower, attacking your neck as his canines flash, the kisses rapidly descending into untamed bites and claiming slashes of teeth against soft, unmarked skin. You gasp as he bites, putting his mark into your body, startled by your own enjoyment, how arousal is swiftly rising to meet him, as much as you’re trying to pull away. “Rhys…” you pant, struggling half-heartedly beneath his touch, enjoying how his strength dominates you, a display of power so brutal and fundamental something warms in your chest.

He releases your wrists in favour of roughly gripping your skirts, almost tearing them as they’re shoved up your thighs, making way for him as he grips you tight, hoisting you up so your legs wrap around his hips—allowing him to press against your centre, purple fabric pooled around your waist. Instinctively your arms fly over his shoulders, and then his mouth is reclaiming your own, a flashing frenzy of tongue and teeth that knocks you clean off your feet, heart pounding from the assault on your senses, the ticklish pleasure still tingling across the erogenous skin at your throat.

Your fingers shakily tangle in his hair, and he snarls into the kiss, canines scraping over your lower lip before crushing back against your mouth, the damper on his power waring thinner, and thinner, pressure straining on your bones as you tremble. He’s never come this close to removing it completely around you, and it’s terrifying, your heart pounding in your chest, pulse spiking as you begin to get an understanding of what kind of beast you’ve been taunting.

“Rhys!” You gasp as his hand palms over your breast, grinding between your thighs as he again dips down to your throat, feeling your heightened pulse beneath his teeth. Tongue darting out to taste you.

Your hands stutter over him, torn between trying to pull him away and to tug him closer, to take more of him, startled by the ferocious hunger he’s subjecting you to, and the starvation it’s bringing forth in your own body.

His fingers effortlessly slide beneath your dress, but when they brush the golden string that’s clinging to your right hip, it’s like a bucket of icy water has been speared into your bloodstream. Your palms slam down against his shoulders, leveraging yourself against the wall as you shove at him enough to push him away by an inch or two, allowing your legs to unlock from his hips, standing on your own shaky feet again, nearly collapsing thanks to the sharply-angled heels.

“Rhys, stop,” you demand breathlessly, hands flat against his powerful chest, able to feel how his magic thrums dangerously around you, beating in time with his pulse in deadly waves. “Slow down,” you breathe, gazing up into intensely dark violet, practically plunging into icy indigo, his features turning glacial as he looks down at you, caged in, your cheeks warmed from arousal. He steps closer, crowding your space, and you tense up, abruptly aware of how that lethal strength could just as easily be used against you rather than with you.

“What is it?” He drawls, the tone having hairs rising on the back of your neck in warning, a long lost sense rising from the recesses of your mind to scream its horror at the creature before you, steadily emerging from beautifully carved skin. “I…Rhys, I’m not sure about this,” you answer honestly, hands trembling over his chest, trying to even out your breaths. “I’m sorry,” you fumble, “it’s all happening so quickly—I didn’t expect anything to happen tonight.”

“Is that why you’re wearing these?” He asks lowly, and you stiffen as his fingers brush over your hip, now covered again by your dress, but you know he’s talking about your underwear, how it matches the gold of your jewellery, complimenting the regal purple of your gown.

“I—…that was for me,” you mumble, flushing, shying away from the pressure within his gaze, how his attention crushes down upon you. “So I’d feel more confident around you.”

“Confident?” He remarks lowly, roughly, the slow drag of the word tingling down your spine. “So you always wear something matching whenever you feel unsure?” You falter, glancing away, hands lowering a little but remaining against him, anxious to keep him at bay for the moment. “I’m sorry if I misled you,” you manage, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But I…if you’re only after sex, I can’t give you that.”

“You’d give more?” He asks breathlessly, pushing closer despite how you try to keep him away. “With someone else, I could manage a one-time thing,” you whisper, “but with you…”

A deep noise rumbles in his chest, male satisfaction resounding through you as your insides flutter, his hands coming to brace themselves on the wall, either side of your hips as he leans down, mere inches separating you. “You want something serious?” He asks quietly, roughly, and you nod, tilting your head to better see him.

His lips curve at the edges, pleased with your reply. “Then come with me,” he murmurs beside your ear, and your breaths stutter as his arousal wraps around you, stark and heady. His hand wraps around your wrist, making to take you elsewhere, but you pull against his hold. “I need you to slow down,” you manage firmly, getting stable footing on the ground—relatively stable, anyway.

“You were so eager a second ago,” he muses, the sonorous drawl returning, his eyes dark and deadly, able to scent your own arousal by now. He doesn’t release your wrist. “I’m allowed to change my mind,” you say firmly, lightly trying to pull away but to no avail. Either he doesn’t get the hint, or…you swallow thickly.

Violet eyes glint, a curve tilting the edges of his mouth. “And what have you changed your mind to?” He asks smoothly, as if indulging a child’s whim.

“I think a lot has happened tonight, and I want to go home and sleep on it,” you say, aware of how his touch is making your skin tingle. A strange weariness creeping over you, eyelids beginning to weigh as the adrenaline wares off.

A sadness flickers in his violet eyes, before it’s vanished, and he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it a moment longer,” he breathes, firmly pulling you into his body, knowing you’re unable to resist. His palm settles on your lower back, and you press your own hand to his chest in protest. “Rhys. Stop messing around,” you say, peering up at him, meeting hungry, dark eyes. “This isn’t funny. Let me go.”

“Lovely, little lamb,” he breathes, angling you so he can peer down at you, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing intrusively into your middle. “You think I would joke when it comes to you?” He asks gently, violet eyes sweeping over you, and you shrink away, the ravenous lust making your legs feel weak. “I can hardly breathe right around you,” he whispers, “I ache for you. To feel you. To touch you. Don’t deny me for a second longer.”

Your lips part in shock, unable to formulate a response, and his eyes glint with approval, before he’s turning, forcefully dragging you from the room, hand shackled around your wrist as you try to struggle against him, to rip yourself from his hold, but he refuses to budge. You might as well be fighting against iron for how much give he allows.

“Rhys,” you call sharply, tugging away. “Rhysand!” You try grabbing onto a banister, but he’s too strong, and your hold slips away, heels practically clawing lines into the floorboards as you try to lean against him, to counterweight his force—to no avail. “Rhys let me go,” you bark, surging forward abruptly in attempt to knock into him, but he’s been trained as a warrior since birth, and has no difficulty in remaining stable.

“Stop struggling,” he demands lowly, piercing violet pinning you to the floor, and you’re utterly helpless as he effortlessly puts you over his shoulder, sweeping you off your feet with devastating ease. You start kicking, slamming your fists against his back, aiming either side of his spine as you scream at him to put you down, trying to dig your nails into his skin, to rip through his clothes to scratch and slice at him.

You recoil into yourself when his palm connects with your hind, body going taut as you freeze, horror and terror paralysing you, and he chuckles lowly. “Like that?” He asks, voice deeper, and your stomach drops when he reaches a bedroom, able to watch as the door clicks shut.

“Rhys,” you whisper, fear pounding through your veins. “Rhys, put me down.”

Panic roils in your gut as you’re roughly thrown down from his shoulder, knees pressing together as you land on the softness of his mattress, crisp sheets rustling as you try to squirm away from him, pushing further up the bed. “Rhys— Rhys listen to me,” you try, but he ignores you, looming like a nightmare as he grips your ankle, dragging you back toward him.

“Relax,” he muses, fingers biting into your skin as he pushes the deep purple of your dress higher, until you’re certain he’ll be able to see the gold material clinging between your thighs, presented with a perfect view between your legs. “You’ll feel good. You know you’ll feel good.”

“Rhys, fuck off!” You bark, voice shaking with terror, pressure building behind your eyes. “You can’t fucking do this. Just because she did it to you doesn’t mean you have the right to inflict it on other people.”

He snarls lowly at that, pinning you down in an instant, easily slotting between your thighs, his powerful body keeping you where he wants with ease. “I thought you cared, huh? I thought you were eager to be with me. What happened to that, hm?”

“You’re sick, Rhys,” you hiss, “this is sick. You’re fucking insane.”

“It’s okay to be a little insane,” he drawls, mimicking your earlier words of comfort, given in attempts to help him, but in doing so dooming yourself. “It’s more than a little,” you hiss, teeth flashing as you try to kick him off you, but he’s pressing himself flush between your thighs, leaving you without a hope in hell.

“I deserve to be happy, don’t I?” He murmurs so softly over your mouth, and in any other context your heart would have broken at the question—that he would even have to ask. But, “not at my expense, Rhys,” you hiss, heat warming behind your eyes. “Not at our expense.”

“I’m not sacrificing us,” he counters quietly, hand coming up to grip your jaw. “I’m joining us together.” He rolls his hips against yours, feeling him against your sex, how the pressure grinds over your clit, deliciously traitorous heat gathering in response, and you’re utterly helpless as his lips curve into a slight grin, sadism gleaming from deep within his violent gaze.

“I don’t want to join with you,” you spit back, trying to push him away, but darkness gathers on his bed, keeping your wrists bound to the mattress as he lowers his mouth to your throat, kissing and biting his way down your skin, painting a pathway of bruises while his hands glide up your thighs, catching beneath the material of your dress. His lips brush the hem of its neckline, and then he’s smoothly pulling it away, leaving you practically bare.

Your High Lord pulls back, tan skin flushed, pupils dilated with dizzying hunger as he gazes down at his prey, the golden fabric clinging to your hips as you squirm, ankles wrapped in that gilded string, keeping your heels in place, the elegant little chains decorating your wrists, settling around your throat. He groans lowly, rough palms splaying over your waist, resting there gently as he rolls his hips against you, into you, taking his time pulling you apart. Savouring your struggle.

“You were desperate for it minutes ago,” he drawls lowly, right palm raising over your stomach, the pads of his fingers brushing with a feather-light touch upward, starting from your lower abdomen, gliding slowly to your sternum, pleased to feel how your breath hitches beneath his touch. “You’ll be desperate again soon enough.”

“Go to hell, Rhys,” you manage, lip curling back to showcase sharp canines—a set he’d gladly allow to pierce his skin. The only set he’d allow to mark him ever again. “This isn’t fucking okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” he breathes, and your throat rolls heavily as his fingers begin the slow, torturous descent back down your body, trailing over your abdomen, stroking down over the golden fabric, running lightly over your centre. “It’s better.”

Heat flushes your skin as his rough palms grip the underside of your thighs, just above your knees, raising your legs up and out of the way, pressing them close to your torso so he has more room. Callouses drag against your skin, a reminder of his strength, the warrior that’s concealed beneath his finely tailored exterior. He is the embodiment of power.

“Rhys, stop,” you breathe as he settles at the edge of the bed, violet eyes hungrily licking over your clothed sex. You squirm, trying to shift your hips, but his lips brush over your abdomen, and then his teeth are clasping the band of your underwear. He gazes up at you intently, slowly dragging it back—tauntingly; teasingly—until he releases it to snap back against your skin.

“Rhys…” you murmur shakily, the understanding finally beginning to dawn across you that he might go through with it. “Rhys, please. You’re better than this.” Violet gleams with ravenous hunger, dark and starved, and he presses forward, mouth a breath’s width from your sex. “Shall I show you how much better I can be?”

You swallow thickly beneath that look, but manage to nod your head. If you can just get him to pull away, to remove the bonds of your wrists…

Your lips part in a sharp gasp, writhing beneath him as he presses his face between your legs, violet eyes closing as he takes in his own heaven, submerging himself in your scent, your heat. You try to buck away from him, to get further from his mouth, but it only serves to make you more aware of how he’s invading, though his grip has lessened on your thighs.

He exhales heavily, contentedly, shifting between your legs and your muscles coil tense, nails piercing your palms as his nose brushes against… Your toes curl, thighs trying to press together, to ward him away, but he keeps you spread apart effortlessly.

Eventually he pulls back, violet eyes glued to your clothed sex as his fingers hook in the golden strings lacing over your hips, slowly pulling them away. His gaze practically glows, pupils dilating as he peels away the wet material, shame and humiliation burning hot in your gut. Eyes flick up to you, and you force yourself to meet them, to not yield and look away—to not admit defeat. “You’re wet,” he breathes lowly, roughly, depthless hunger swirling in the pits of his pupils. “That means nothing,” you hiss, trying to writhe away from him, fearing what practices his mind will conjure. “I think it means quite a lot more than that, darling,” he breathes, pulling your underwear away completely, then pressing it back to your heat.

You inhale sharply as his fingers run up over you, slow but firm strokes, circling your entrance through the golden fabric, and your pulse spikes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing now?” You snap, voice shaking with fear, darkness now banding around beneath your knees to keep them apart as he stands, peeling your underwear away. Embarrassment flushes your skin when you catch their gleam, how thoroughly soaked they are.

Rhys’s cruel mouth curves, and you writhe on his bed, trying to turn away as he pushes the wet material between your lips, long fingers prying them apart. Your tongue recoils, trying to pull away, but his grin widens, a pleasured sound coming from deep within his chest as he feels you struggle. “Do you taste good?” He asks lowly, fingers stroking over your tongue, “like having that in your mouth? I bet you’re only getting wetter by the second,” he breathes, pupils fully dilated.

You release a sound that should be disgusted, but comes out as more of a whimper. His breath catches at the noise, able to see how his cock is straining against his trousers but he leaves himself unattended—for now.

He returns between your legs, and a noise between a whimper and a snarl rips from your throat, heat flaring across your skin as he licks up your centre, broad palms keeping your thighs absolutely open for him to indulge.

“Rhys,” you panic, feeling pressure build behind your eyes, managing to spit out the fabric that had been gagging you. “Rhys please. Please stop. We can— We can figure something out—”

His tongue swipes over your clit, making you jolt and squirm, trying desperately to thrash against his hold but it’s like being chained up, his grip stricter than iron as he applies himself, suckling at the impossibly sensitive part effortlessly, as if he’s familiar with how your body works. As if he knows already exactly where to touch, suck, and fuck to have you drooling dumb.

Breaths pant from your lips, hips wiggling as one hand trails down your thigh, and you know exactly what he’s planning to do with those long, dexterous fingers of his…exactly how they’ll feel inside of you, how they’ll know where to push and rub at to have you dripping onto his knuckles.

“You want me to stop?” He breathes lowly, roughly, thumbing at your entrance, liking how you tighten around nothing as if eager to invite him in. “You know I could make you feel like an immortal,” he growls, mouth prone to attach your clit with his tongue and teeth should you try to rebuke him. “I could take you higher…further than anyone’s ever taken you before.”

“I don’t fucking want it,” you hiss, lip curled as heat wets your eyes, trying to blink away the hot tears in favour of sending him a look of pure hatred.

Rhys blinks his violet eyes, then smiles, pulling away.

“Give me five minutes?” He muses lowly, a starving glint in his gaze, darkened and scheming. You snarl, then inhale sharply when the darkness releases you, completely freeing you. Immediately you sit upright, pulling your legs together, but refusing to cower before him—keeping your hands at your sides, gripping the sheets to prevent yourself from recoiling physically.

“You don’t deserve a single second of my time,” you spit, blinking away the tears as you snarl. “I regret how much I’ve already spent on you.”

“Not even a single second?” He laughs, hands sliding calmly into the pockets of his finely tailored trouser, perfectly encapsulating the raw power contained within his body. “I’m not sure if I can take you there in an instant without hurting you somewhere,” he drawls almost apologetically, but his violet eyes spark. “But if that’s all you’ll give me…” he murmurs, softer than a breath.

Your breathing pattern spikes, heat flushing intently beneath his gaze. Talons swiftly enter your mind, and you’re utterly helpless as your body starts to tremble, terrifying heat swelling with such ferocity your vision goes tilted, muscles feeling like custard as you fall back into the bed. Your spine arches on its own, toes curling eyes squeezing shut as he plies the orgasm from your body, easing out your pleasure while he stands at the foot of the bed, idly licking at the pad of his thumb that had prodded against your entrance.

Your lips part as it intensifies, and you scramble, thrashing in the bed, a choked noise erupting from your chest as you feel the high in your entire body, like there are hands touching, feeling all across your body, tongues lapping over your nipples, sets of teeth biting at your throat, lips sealing over your clit as fingers pump and curl inside of you.

The scream rises swiftly, limbs trembling violently as sweat is forced through your skin from the abrupt intensity, the orgasm absolutely devastating as you lose all control of yourself, moaning unabashedly as those feelings are drawn out—as Rhysand draws them out. His fingers the ones inside of you, his teeth piercing your skin, his tongue circling your clit.

“Do you want it to stop,” he muses, unable to help licking his lips at the obscene sight before him, the scent of it filtrating into his blood, rushing straight to his cock, hot and heavy between his legs.

The words jumble and melt across your mind, splashing like melted butter into your head, and struggle—for what? For more? For more.

He chuckles lowly, and you scream as he forces you through a second one, having it break like the surf across jagged rocks, arousal dripping down your thighs, webbing between your legs as you try to press them together only for the darkness to spread you apart. Definitely more than wet enough to fill a shot glass or two.

You pant heavily. Ragged, gasping breaths as wild heat ravishes your skin, pleasure bursting at the seams of your body, a perfectly ripe fruit dripping with flavour, ready to break beneath the slightest pressure from a set of sharp, piercing canines the second they graze your skin. And Rhysand is more than happy to bite.

Your eyes are squeezed shut tight, so you can only feel the mattress dip as he prowls up onto the bed, pinning you down, caging you effortlessly between his powerful, ruining arms.

The High Lord allows your orgasm to wash away slowly, bringing you back to the plane of reality he’s on, your skin hot and dewy from the intense pleasure he’s forced you full of. Your lids flutter, eyes struggling to lock onto his as violet pierces into you, doing nothing to hide the deep-rooted hunger that’s tearing him apart. He moves lazily, with the leisure one can move with when they’re in no rush, yet you can sense that undercurrent, the riptide within him that you’ve been caught in, at last dawning on you. The only other tell aside from his actions and confessions, is the strain in his jaw, wound tight as he gazes down at you, eyes so dark they’re closer to being entirely black as shadow and darkness writhes around you in a great, slithering mass, tangling with you on the bed.

“I think you’re more than ready now,” he whispers, the words dragging like gravel across bare, sensitive skin. “Are you ready?”

Tears spill down your cheeks, so turned around you feel entirely out of control. All you can remember is the sizzling burn of pleasure, the electrifying tingle of heat as it sears through your thighs, making your body feel weightless, like you’re above the clouds and bathing in starlight…starlight that’s hot and wet, that trickles down the naked planes of your body…that slips and slides where your fingers drag through it…that tastes like power and possession…laced through with iridescent violet…

A rough laugh drags from the High Lord’s throat, sensing your pleasure-induced daze, facing not even an ounce of resistance as he gently flips you over on the bed, the side of your face pressing into the soft fullness of one of the pillows, saliva pooling inside your cheek, drooling out onto the cotton as he pushes your thighs apart.

He curses lowly, eyeing the mess between your thighs, wanting more than anything to pull you to the edge of his bed, or flip you around again so you’re spread out on top of him, suspended in the air for him to play with and touch. So he can kiss, lick, bite wherever on your body he likes, so he can press his face between your legs, so he can take his time learning the pace you most like his tongue circling your clit, the pressure to apply that will most swiftly lead you to orgasm, the spots inside of you he should rub against if he wants you to soak him.

But he doesn’t. He’s waited too long.

Besides, after tonight, he can do whatever he pleases; you’ll be his. If he wants to dangle you from the ceiling while exploring your skin, if he wants to bind you to his bed while he kisses up your thighs, if he wants to seat you in his lap while he strokes his tongue against your own…he can. The thought has him growling lowly, dark power writhing beneath his skin, aching to manifest with talons and large, spanning wings, to allow proper canines to slide from his upper lip and his skin to become dark and leathery; to yield to his baser side.

You make a soft sound in the back of your throat, confused but aroused, and his cock twitches between his legs in response. Trailing a hand up the path of your spine, darkness gathers your wrists in a light coil, bringing them to cross at your back, and he swallows thickly at the imagery. Unable to entirely help himself, having only ever witnessed these events within fantasy, the darkness wraps itself also beneath your shins, raising them from the bed until your calves are pressing to the backs of your thighs, legs bent at the knee.

Breathing deeply, he pulls himself free, noting the slight tremors that run through your body, shuddering lightly from the aftershocks of pleasure, trembling beneath the beast who’s got you at his mercy. So out of it you can hardly understand what’s happening, reduced to a panting, drooling mess. A groan of pleasure rasps from his chest, guiding his tip to your entrance, and slowly…slowly easing in.

Your breaths stutter, small noises whimpering from your lips as your lids flutter with confusion, and he applies a light pressure to the base of your spine, having you curve lightly beneath him as he goes in…and in…and in. His breath fans against the nape of your neck, lips skimming the shell of your ear, and tears spill from your eyes, unable to help as you cry, unable to understand why after having had your mind so thoroughly toyed with.

Rhysand shifts, his forearm banding beneath your stomach to raise you up onto shaky knees, legs still bound while your face presses into the pillow, allowing him to press the entirety of himself inside, his hips meeting the backs of your thighs, at last finding home for that last inch he couldn’t fit into you when you were on your front. You whimper at the stretch, the fullness, the strange pleasure from having no space left inside of you. His lips press to the bare skin of the top of your shoulder, skimming the thin golden chain that remains loosely around your throat.

“So good,” he whispers beside you ear, voice shuddering as he presses his face to the crook of your shoulder, inhaling the thickness of your scent—he could come from that alone, from how you’re squeezing him, the pliancy of your body. “I knew you’d fit me perfectly, and feel how right I was.”

He shifts his weight, and your toes curl lightly, squirming beneath the pleasure, and Rhys can sense it will be a struggle to move, to gather the energy to bring a greater pleasure to both of you. It feels so good as it is, he almost doesn’t want to move, to simply bask in the wet heat of your cunt, the lost familiarity of your scent, the way your body slots so perfectly beneath his own.

You’re struggling internally, grappling for consciousness but overwhelmed by the pleasure he’s forcing into you. You can feel everything that’s happening, feel every thick inch of him that he’s pushed into you, yet can hardly even lift a finger to stop it, tears growing larger as they quietly wet the cotton of the pillow.

“Gods, you were fucking made for me,” he breathes roughly, sounding almost pained as he hoarsely whispers the confession of thought, and it has enough disgust gathering in the pit of your stomach to push you to the forefront of your mind, resurfacing and gasping for breath as you tense, awareness coursing through your blood, suddenly so acutely aware of every place you’re pressed together, every intimate touch of bare skin, and you try to recoil, to squirm away from him.

“Rhys get off me,” you hiss lowly, crying harder as you try to free yourself, but his shadows hold tight, keeping your wrapped up beneath him, physically unable to push him away or to claw at him as you would like to. Your cheek presses into the pillow, neck straining from the uncomfortable angle, the weight being pushed onto your shoulders from the position, and your gaze meets with dominating, depthless violet. You try to thrash, try to writhe away, but you can manage little more than a shift of your hips with the way he’s holding you.

“Aware again?” He murmurs softly, holding you a little tighter, pulling his hips back by a few inches, just to let you really feel as he presses back inside, cock touching against a sensitive spot that has a quiet sob escaping from your throat. “You were enjoying it so much,” he whispers cruelly, like a malevolent spirit urging you toward evil, silently goading and encouraging you away from the good, and instead forward into the bad. “Relax,” he muses besides your ear, your spine unwillingly arching as a shiver ghosts up your back.

Words of hate, of fury and disgust sit ready on your tongue, but he pulls his hips back again, and the breath you take is one you would breathe down before being dragged under a river’s icy surface. One you would take, knowing it might be your last.

He pulls out to his tip, then roughly pushes back in, pushing you into the pillow, and all sense is knocked from your head.

All sense from his, too.

A low growl rumbles through his chest, constraints dissolving to dust and ash as discipline crumbles like sand, disintegrating into nothing as both his hands roughly grip your hips, pulling back to slam into you. Deep, rough, thorough strokes that have his cock hitting spots inside of you, drool slipping over your lips as he fucks the protests out of your mind—fucks the moans from your mouth.

Your vision changes, unable to understand anything you’re seeing through the pure haze of pleasure, unable to take anymore after the two he’d forced through you without having to so much as trace the pad of his finger over your clit. And now he’s pounding into you, knocking the breath from your lungs, filling you up all the while you’re bound and tied, shackled and caged beneath him. For him to use as he pleases.

Tingling heat coils in the pit of your belly, and you’re not sure whether you would prefer the gathering orgasm to be of your own making or his. Whether you would rather it be your body naturally responding to his cruel, dominating pleasure, or for his daemati hands to have slipped into your mind again, fingers easing the puppet-strings to move in the correct formation to have the high rising so swiftly. You hardly have the capacity to consider the thought before it’s banished from your mind, darkness widening the stance of your knees on the mattress so they can twine between your legs, pushing and rubbing at your clit, slick and precum having mixed together, dripping down, slowly making you gleam with arousal that the darkness now uses to catapult you into the orgasm. Shoving you mercilessly into the boiling tempest of pleasure, holding your head below the raging waters so as to drown you in euphoria, to having it fill your lungs and burn at your eyes as it passes through your body.

Rhysand feels you trembling, crying out as you flutter and squeeze him, finding his own high with yours, canines flashing in a barely restrained snarl, teeth biting down into the appetising slope of your shoulder. He feels it as he spills inside of you, hot spurts of cum releasing from him directly into your cunt, and he continues bucking his hips to keep it all pressed deep inside, sloppily grinding against you until your body has ceased its shudders and you’re panting quietly, tears still dripping down your cheeks, nails having bitten deep into your palms but he doubts you’re at all aware of the pain in the moment.

The High Lord curses lowly, breathless as he pulls out of you, seeing how he’s coated in your arousal, wrapped in the evidence of your orgasm, a fresh wave of pleasure having soaked him in your slick, slightly creamy from his cum mixing in. He groans lowly, canine finding place in the corner of his lip as he bites lightly, stroking himself experimentally, then gritting his teeth from sensitivity.

Rhysand glances down at you, ass still kept in the air, trembling; unable to move yet from his shadows, and at once the hunger is renewed, grip tightening on himself as he hardens again. Arousal gathers within him, and he moves almost without thinking, guiding himself back to your entrance, despite how you cry as you feel him begin to push back in, forgetting you will be about to endure a fourth orgasm in less than quarter of an hour, while he is only starting on his second.

You cry out as he firmly presses back in, once again shoving the air from your lungs, and you flinch as the heel of his palm presses hard against the nape of your neck, thumb to one side while his fingers settle on the other, chaining you to the bed by your throat, and allowing him to… You swallow thickly, but struggle with his weight leaning on you.

“Rhys…” you rasp, panic setting in, realising what differences this will make; knowing you can’t take it. “Rhys… Rhys…!” You struggle frantically, arms tugging at the restraints as you try everything you can think of: thrashing against the bonds of your wrists, trying to rock your body side to side to turn over, using all your trembling strength to try and pull your legs free… “Rhys, please…Rhys listen—listen to me,” you cry, fingers moving as if trying to scratch him.

He pays you no mind, grip hardening on the nape of your neck as he pushes in, finding his pace again, following his own instincts this time, the feeling of your orgasm on his cock, how you’d fluttered around him…he’s undone.

Your breath turns more ragged, heart pounding as he increases the pace, feeling inside as it becomes rougher, more feral, more unrestrained, the damper of his power clean off as darkness sprawls across the bed. The rhythm becomes punishing, brutal bucks of his hips, and you nearly scream as he takes advantage of the position, putting his weight behind each thrust, pinning you down by your neck, fucking you into his bed with a conviction that’s obsessive.

Nails dig into your palms, muscles going taut as darkness presses to your clit, rubbing in mean, tight circles, far too harsh for how sensitive you are, thighs shaking with the cruel stimulation. You’re utterly helpless to the way your spine curves, how your toes curl, how you tighten around him with how good it feels—being so roughly treated, pleasure being so mercilessly infused into your body.

And this time, you know he’s tampering with your mind.

You scream as you come again, cock driving into you over and over until your voice gives out, his hips bucking into you in a way that has you forgetting the circumstances, silently begging for it not to end, to not let the pleasure slip away.

A dark grin curves his hellish mouth, daemati fingers effortlessly plucking on the puppet-strings, dragging the high out just as you’d silently prayed for.

But a mind can only take so much tampering. The High Lord knows this, had warned you about it himself before he’d pulled the first two from you. Yet in his haze, caught in his hunger, all he hears are your pleas, and his own mind is helpless to give more and more and more.

It’s only after he’s flipped you over, fucked you full, and sealed his mouth against your own that he realises you’ve passed out, mind exhausted from his relentless ministrations. He doesn’t want to stop, but he knows he can’t continue.

Gazing down at your body, head tipped to the side, your eyes already slightly puffy from crying, he feels a slight ache within his chest. He’s old enough to recognise regret when it appears, the cloying heaviness of guilt that’s so difficult to shake.

He brushes hair from your cheek, wet with saliva, and his thumb traces the curve beneath your lower lip, regaining his breath as he quietly looks over you. You’ll need to rest, to recuperate after the night. As much as he wants to keep you in his own bed, it will only make more damage, and he’s caused enough for the time being. Anymore and he might struggle to fix it.

As it is, he allows himself a few more minutes, leaning over your pliant body, brow pressing to your own as he cups your jaw. He supposes it’s a prayer of his own, though he can’t guess what to.

He’s not sure he wants to pray to something that would listen to him.

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