ny ⋆.𐙚 ̊

yours truly

[crtsdoll]

nyra — 17, she/her, pisces, isfp

♡ stanlist : cortis, illit, hearts2hearts, twice, girls’ generation, le sserafim

bias line — james + martin (bday twin) + minju + juun + anton

✩ edits, kpop, pinterest, late nights, aesthetics

— safe space, don’t be weird— i block freely

[prettyinorchid]

just this once

⋆˚꩜｡ james x fem!reader ⋆˚࿔ 18+ mdni! ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ sweet reader °❀⋆ unprotected sex, nipple play, praise kink, rough james, dacryphilia ۶ৎ based off on this ask! ᥫ᭡. enjoy💗

“you sure about this?" you whisper, fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt.

james presses closer, crowding you against the edge of your bed. his hands find your waist, thumbs rubbing circles through the cotton.

“i wouldn't push if i didn't know you'd love it." his voice is low, rough. like he's been holding this back for weeks. "you trust me, right?"

you nod. you do. that’s the problem.

"good girl." the praise hits you somewhere deep. spreads warm through your chest. he leans in, kisses the corner of your mouth, soft and deliberate. "i’ve been thinking about this for so long. thinking about you. the way you'd feel under me."

his hands slide under your shirt, palms flat against your stomach, warm. you shiver. he groans. a sound that's pure frustration, pure want.

“now i need you to understand something” he says, pushing your shirt up, exposing your pink, lacy bra.

his eyes drop to your tits, and his breath catches. "this isn't me taking advantage. this is me giving you something you deserve."

"james-“

“let me take care of you." he pulls your shirt over your head, unhooks your bra with clumsy, desperate fingers. when your tits fall free, he makes a noise like he's been punched. "fuck. you’re so beautiful."

his mouth is on your nipple before you can respond. hot, wet, sucking hard. you gasp, back arching, and he groans against your skin.

his hand finds your other tit, squeezing, thumb dragging across the peak until it's hard and aching.

"that feel good?" he mumbles against your breast.

"oh god… yes” you moan.

“tell me you want this."

"i want it." your voice cracks. "i want you. so bad”

he pulls back just long enough to strip you both, then presses you facedown onto the mattress.

his body covers yours, skin to skin, his chest against your back, his cock hard against your thigh.

"spread your legs for me, baby."

you do.

he settles between them, the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds, teasing your clit. you whimper.

“look at you” he breathes into your ear. "so fucking wet for me. you needed this, didn't you? needed someone to take control."

"y-yes…”

he pushes in. slow at first. just the tip. and you feel every inch of him. your body clenches around him, tight and burning and just so perfect. he hisses through his teeth.

"fuck, you're so tight."

he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass, and stays there. lets you adjust. his hand slides down your side, over your hip, then cups your breast from underneath, squeezing in time with your breathing.

"good girl” he murmurs. "taking me so well."

then he starts to move. hard. fast. no more gentleness. his hips slam into you, the bed creaking under the force, your breath punched out in short, desperate moans. his fingers dig into your hip hard enough to bruise.

"you feel that?" he’s breathless, ragged. "feel how good this is? how good we are together?"

you can't answer. just moan, face pressed into the pillow, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. it’s too much. his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, his weight holding you down, his voice in your ear telling you you're perfect.

he reaches under you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. your body jerks.

"that’s it” he groans. "come for me. let me feel you."

you do. it breaks over you in waves, your pussy clenching around his cock, a sob catching in your throat. he fucks you through it, chasing his own release, and when he comes it's with a guttural moan, spilling hot inside you, his body shuddering against yours.

he stays on top of you for a long moment, breathing hard, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

"see?" he whispers. "i told you. this was good for you."

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: hope you guys enjoyed this!🤍🍨 and i hope yall like my new theme😚 working on the requests!

[crtsdoll]

AGAIN? .ೃ࿐

SYNOPSIS — in which she hopes your three minutes won’t be the last time she sees you

PAIRING juun x fem reader

WARNINGS! — none, just fluff

NOTES — first fic… be nice pls, i really was just typing shi so enjoy 🥹.

The timer in the corner say 3:00 when the screen connects.

“Hi-!” she smiles immediately, a little wave, already in that practiced rhythm. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n..” you tell her, voice quieter than you expected.

“Y/n?” she repeats back, carefully. Like she wants to get it right. “That’s really pretty,” she says, nodding a little to herself.

You smile, relaxing a bit. There’s a tiny pause. Not long enough to be awkward, just long enough to notice.

Her eyes stay on you. Not drifting, not checking anything else. Just… you.

“Have you been having a good day?” she asks, titling her head slightly. “Yeah,” you say, then laugh softly. “I mean… better now.”

That makes her smile, small at first, then a little bigger. “That’s good,” she says. “I’m glad.”

2:11

You can see the timer ticking down now, and suddenly you’re aware of how fast it’s going. You say something, honestly anything, to keep it moving, asking her about practice, about how she’s been.

She answers, but it’s different. She keeps coming back to you. Asking little things.

“where are you from?”

“is it late there?”

“you look kind of nervous… are you okay?”

You laugh again, covering your mouth this time. “I’m just— I didn’t expect to be this nervous…” She nods like she understands. Like she really does. “You’re doing good,” she says softly. “Don’t worry.”

01:02

It’s quieter now. Not empty, just softer. More real. You shift a little, adjusting your sleeve over your hand, and her eyes follow the movement without thinking.

And then—

“You’re really pretty,” she says. No build up. No script. Just honest.

You freeze for a second. “Oh— thank you…” you mumble, heat rushing to your face.

She laughs a little, shy this time. “Sorry, I just— I thought that earlier too,” she admits. “I just didn’t say it.”

00:24

Neither of you say anything for a second. Just smiling. “I’m really glad I got to talk to you,” she says finally. And it doesn’t sound like something she says to everyone. “Me too,” you reply.

00:05

“I hope I see you again,” she adds quickly, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

The screen glitches slightly.

And then it ends.

The venue is smaller than you expected. Not tiny—but close enough that the stage doesn’t feel far away. Close enough that you can see everything.

You don’t think much of it when you end up at the front.

Just luck. good timing. nothing more.

It’s been a few weeks since the fancall.

Long enough that it feels a little embarrassing to think about now. She talks to hundreds of people. You know that. There’s no way she’d remember you.

—

The lights dim and the music starts. And suddenly, none of that matters. She’s right there. Not behind a screen this time—real, moving, laughing, performing like she belongs on that stage.

You don’t even realize you’ve been staring until she looks your way. It’s quick at first. Just part of performing, scanning the crowd, making eye contact.

Normal.

You look away. Then back again. And she’s still looking.

—

You tell yourself you’re imagining it. You have to be. There are so many people here. So many faces. You’re just one of them.

But then it happens again. During a break between songs, she steps closer to the edge of the stage. Closer to you.

Her eyes move over the crowd-

And stop.

On you.

This time, she doesn’t look away. Her expression changes. Just slightly. Like something clicked.

You freeze.

There’s no way.

—

She tilts her head a little. The same way she did on the call. And then- she smiles. Not the stage smile. Not the one meant for everyone. The smaller one. The one that feels familiar.

Your heart drops.

During the next song, she keeps drifting back to your side. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough that it feels intentional.

Every time, her eyes find yours. Like she’s checking. Like she’s making sure.

And near the end, when the music softens and the crowd quiets just a little— She leans toward the edge of the stage again.

Closer than before. Just enough that you can hear her if she speaks. Her voice is quiet.

Meant for you.

“You came back.”

—

And just like that,

You realize—

She remembers.