#how??? how in the WORLD is this going to blow up so badly??? they could TOTALLY come back from where it is now

[infizero]

random thought but i just. arggrhgh i love the vibe toby fox creates in both undertale and deltarune where despite all the silliness and fun and joy, there's this constant feeling of sort of repressed sadness that permeates the whole thing as well. its something that i really really love

[justalittlebluetiefling]

.

[buckyalpine]

18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-

Oop-

It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.

It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"

Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.

She'd always take care of him.

Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.

You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.

"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.

He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.

"B-Baby?"

"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.

God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.

"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"

"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-

"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-

"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-

"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.

I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.

"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.

"Um, sometimes baby"

Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.

"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"

"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"

Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.

"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"

"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.

"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"

"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"

"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-

He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.

Lord I'm sorry.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, first time blowjob, facials, established relationship, happy birthday hee <3

─────────୨ৎ──────────

“B-baby w-wait”

Flaring hands went to bring you up from your sinking position, but you only lowered further, your pretty eyes looking up to him with a gentle smile on your face.

He thought you’d go out with him to the restaurant he’s been talking about or simply staying indoors and rotting away in each other’s embrace. He would’ve been happy with anything if it meant spending time with you.

But this was not what he had in mind.

“It’s my gift to you Hee” You murmured but his ears were too muffled from the pounding of his heart that he could barely pick it up

All he could hear was his heartbeat about to burst out of his chest. You fully sunk to your knees infront of him, staring up at him as he sat on the edge of the bed where you put him before your hands fiddled with his sweats before achingly pulling at them. Yeah, he’s done for.

You’ve never given a blowjob ever and he knew that. You were highly inexperienced before meeting him. He was your first everything but neither of your minded it.

Heeseung loved he was the one showing you a new world of pleasure and you were happy that he was the one showing and guiding you through it.

But when you suddenly told him you had a present for him, he never expected this.

His throat was dry, scratchy almost and now matter how many times he gulped it never went away. Your hands pawed at his sweats a little more before softly bringing them down.

His chest rose up and dropped captivated by your curious yet lustful eyes. “Y-you don’t have to do this…” He murmured but you quickly waved him off and pulled his pants down in one motion

Now you knew how big he was. Of course, you did. This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it before but in this new position, it’s the first time you’ve seen it like this and it intimated you.

A long vein trailed at the side up, his surely growing erection forming and the beautiful angry tip that was beginning to leak precum out of it’s slit. Your mouth salivated but you gulped before any could seep through your lips.

You couldn’t trust your words to properly come out so you opted to actions instead. You grabbed his hardening cock in hand making him groan lowly.

Gliding up until your thumb found his tip. Fiddling with the flesh in between your fingers, his groans grew as his length now grew to its full potential in his hands. Smearing the precum all around making your hands easily glide up and down his cock, just like how he taught you to.

“Fuck” Heeseung breathlessly let out, “So good”

Your soft giggles coursed through his chest having his heart flutter, “I learned from the best” You quietly hummed

He could get lost in your warming voice, with the way your hands wrapped around him but the warmth of it left his heavy cock to stand proudly on its own to be replaced with your nervous mouth onto him.

The foreign feel made his eyes pop out, nearly crumbling at the wet warmth on his cock. Fuck. You’re trying to take him in one go.

All the videos you watched in preparation to give Heeseung the most mind blowing head ever all ended with a cock stuffed mouth hitting the back of the throat, tear filled eyes and a messy chin.

So that’s what you have to give him in order to make it good head.

The gurgling sound with the heavy pants filled his ears and he’s falling, badly too. But he pulled your head away before you could attempt to take anymore than you can handle.

“Easy baby” He gulped, pulling your head away from him only to have a pop sound echo through the room at the release

You looked up at him with worry eyes that you’ve must’ve messed up somehow. That he wasn’t enjoying himself like you hoped.

Heeseung instantly saw this and quickly cupped your cheeks and creased his thumb on them, his eyes softening. “Hey no no it’s okay”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself” You nibbled on your lips and Heeseung brought his body down just enough to capture your lips with his

The kiss was reassuring and sweet making all the worries fade away into nothing.

“You don’t have to take me in one go” He softly chuckled when he pulled away from this kiss, “Take it nice and easy. That’s how you win the race”

You rolled your eyes at his comforting words but didn’t say anything. Carefully grabbing his hard on once again, you softly nodded—determined to do it right.

Opening your mouth again, you engulfed him into the warmth of your mouth but this time not too fast. You sucked on his tip, your tongue swirling around it making Heeseung nearly topple if it wasn’t for his arms supporting his body.

He could feel the crack in his throat as he tried to keep his groans to a minimum but when you hallowed your cheeks and engulfed him further into your mouth. It shattered.

Your head bobbed up and down his shaft, taking a little more each other you went back down. Your hands fisting on the space that weren’t in your mouth.

Up and down. Breathe through your nose. Take more. Swallow him up.

Heeseung threw his head back that he heard the crack of his neck beneath it as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. It felt so good. Your mouth was absolutely perfect.

“You’re-“ He gulped struggling to form his words without a noise slipping through, “A natural…So damn good for me baby”

The praise sent straight to your wet core but you were more focused on him instead of your needs just yet. You tried to take him deeper and that’s when you felt him hitting the back of your throat.

Naturally your gag reflexes kicked it and tightened around his cock as your body tried to push out the intrusion but it made Heeseung let out a louder sigh than he wanted but damn could he care less.

He was in absolute paradise right now.

“F-fuck” He tried to push you away, “Come up baby- Come up” His voice strained but you remained in your position

Your nose stayed at his pelvis, your gags more common with small tears forming at the brim of your eyes and the burn of him stretching your throat was making your delirious.

You closed your eyes roughly to blink the tears away but it only made them roll down your face. The lack of oxygen made you light headed that it was too much and you pulled away with a loud breathe.

Air finally filled your lungs again as you coughed loudly, patting your chest roughly to get the regular airflow again. You looked up to Heeseung with squinted eyes and his heart swelled.

“Oh baby” He cooed and was going to bring you to his lap to praise you knowing how it left your heart to mush but let out a gruntled sigh when your mouth suddenly wrapped around his cock again

Your bobbing head went faster than the first time, your hand trying to match with it. Heeseung could feel his stomach tightening and he doesn’t think it’ll be good for his sanity to release in your mouth.

If he did, it’ll be truly over for him.

“S-Shit… I’m gonna- Fuck baby”

Hearing how dismantled he became for you sent your heart ablaze. Your spit accumulated at the corner of your lips as you sucked and licked him messily no longer caring for neatness.

Just like how in the videos you watched. You were going to make the biggest mess for Heeseung.

Heeseung felt his body giving up on him. His triceps burning for holding himself up, his elbows nearly crashing in itself. For your first time, you’re perfect.

It took everything in his will power to shakily adjust his body enough to bring your head away from his throbbing cock when he was at the tip of his orgasm.

You were reluctant to let go but you replaced your mouth with your hand trying to move as fast it could rubbing his tip against your thumb.

Sneakily you gave a quick kiss to his top making his squeeze his eyes tighter. Don’t put it back in your mouth. Please. Please. Please.

But of course, you wanted to give your boyfriend the best.

“F-fuck” He loudly let out when he felt the welcome of your warm mouth on him again but this time teasingly slow

You knew he was close but the frequent twitch of his shaft in your mouth. Your tongue dragged from the tip all the way to the base to place loving kisses all the way back up until you engulfed his tip into your mouth again.

Heeseung harsh gasps followed after another until it finally rested when he rumbled out a loud moan. Something you heard every once in a blue moon.

Yet, you weren’t able to focus on it as long as you wished for when you felt the spurts of his cum shoot into your mouth. The new taste made you feel woozy.

You pulled away while he was still coming, his body shivered and eyes shaking to the back of his head as he let his release consume him whole.

It was mind goggling. You did so good on your first time that never will he get over it. He was blessing the earth for giving you him as his sweet girlfriend.

Through heavy pants he opened his eyes and that was his biggest fear took him by the throat. He thought coming in your mouth would be it for him but seeing your face and neck covered in his cum while you looked at him with such fond loving eyes made his heart patter against his chest before exploding.

Your sweet smile formed on your face as you let out a giggle seeing his dazed out expression staring at you, his mouth agape and not a single word coming out. His cheeks flushed, his chest rising, and his semi hard cock faintly twitching.

“Do I have something on my face?” You innocently tilted your head to the side and Heeseung chuckled lightly before it formed into a scoff but before he could point out the very few splotches over you, he jumped when you gave a feather kissing to his tip causing him to hiss at the sensitivity

He quickly shook his head knowing this time around it wouldn’t take long for him to have another orgasm that would easily destroy his record for fastest time coming.

But hearing your louder giggle made his insides twist—turn and squeeze tightly. He let out a defeated sigh no longer caring because he knows deep down that he’ll let you to do anything you please.

“Happy birthday Hee” You softly wished him but when you stuck out your tongue and licked his tip clean he was floored and gone to mere putty in your hands

“Can’t wait to show you what else I have in store for you birthday boy”

——

[pico-farad]

I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly. 

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

[puck-luck]

okay since you wanted requests to switch it up a bit.. could you write trevor zegras x fem!reader smut where his gf is less experienced than him and wants to give him head but she’s never done it before so he guides her through it 🫣

other requests: “could you write a smut with some fluff in it too, with trevor zegras walking his gf through giving him head because it’s her first time and she’s nervous/doesn’t know what to do”, “obsessed with the idea of trevor zegras talking his gf through how to give him head when it’s her first time and she’s nervous about not knowing what to do.. like literally giving her instructions throughout, with lots of praise and reassurance, but also dirty talk bc let’s be real, it’s trevor.” warnings: oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, inexperienced reader x experienced partner, praise, coming on face, masturbation joke warnings: tw: los angeles angels (i prefer the dodgers), in a world where tz never broke his ankle during the 2023-2024 season… pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!fem!reader summary: see requests above. wc: 3089

Trevor Zegras was the most giving, patient man you had ever known. Maybe his patience came from having younger siblings, but it was more likely that it came from years and years of working with teammates in a cutthroat sport. You had grown up watching hockey, gaining intimate knowledge of the sport when you had started dating Trevor. Trevor, in exchange, found himself more than knowledgeable about baseball, the sport of your choice, than he ever needed to be.

You two had met when you came to Anaheim, having graduated a year early from college with a degree in Sports Marketing. You had landed a job with the Los Angeles Angels, which had relocated you to the area, and you couldn’t imagine your life going any other way. There were times when you missed your family and missed home, but once you had gotten settled into your job and you had met Trevor, Anaheim started to feel like the home you’d been destined to find.

Anaheim was also an escape from your hometown– a place where, despite your best efforts, you did not feel welcome. You had told Trevor early in your relationship about your lack of experience sexually and tried to explain it away with a long-winded story about being a “weird kid,” but Trevor had brushed it off and told you he didn’t mind your inexperience. He was happy, he said, to teach you everything he could. All you had to do was say the word.

So, you’d worked up to it. You’d slept in the same bed, touched him, and he had touched you. Hockey season had helped the pace of your relationship, with Trevor traveling almost every other week. He was gone for two weeks straight in January, traveling from coast to coast, and it was then that you had shyly admitted to him through the tinny speaker of your phone how badly you wanted to suck him off.

He had fumbled with the phone, groaning at the idea alone of your mouth around his length, and it had resulted in a long FaceTime call in which you watched him fuck into his hand, telling you how much better it would feel if it was your mouth.

It was the Monday night after they had come back. Trevor had had a game on Sunday at Honda Center against the Rangers and spent the night at his place because it was closer to the rink. As much as he was itching to see you, and your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea of seeing him and going through with blowing him, you were scared. Trevor knew that you were nervous, the anticipation was getting to you, just from the way you were texting. The messages were shorter. You weren’t initiating conversation as much. The times between your responses were longer.

It didn’t matter, though. He was coming over tonight.He was going to cook you dinner. He was going to set the mood. He was going to make you comfortable if it was the last thing that he did, and if it meant that you wouldn’t get your mouth on him at all, he was okay with that.

Trevor arrived at your apartment about an hour after you got off work. Spring training was starting in just a month, so things were starting to pick up for you. You were stressed, plenty of tasks on your plate and most of them half-finished. A relaxing dinner with your boyfriend was going to provide a needed distraction.

Trevor had let himself into the apartment and was already pan-searing some cubed potatoes when you got out of the shower. He was in complete boyfriend mode, having stolen your apron and thrown it over his bare chest. You could see his tattoos from where you were standing, the ones littering his arms and the delicate one on his ribs, and you smiled. 

He seemed like a tough guy, your boyfriend. He had the tattoos, the athletic ability, the sculpted form and ridged muscles of an athlete. Anyone who saw him in the supermarket might think he’s an asshole, but the second they get a good look at him, they’ll realize that he’s just a softie. He tied a delicate bow around the curve of his waist in your baby blue and frilly apron. 

“I can feel you looking at me,” Trevor said. You watched his bicep ripple as he moved the potatoes around the pan with a spatula. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, good, you’re actually there. Could you imagine me saying that to the air?”

“I can, actually,” You replied with a laugh. You walked over and hugged Trevor from behind, arms wrapped solidly around his figure as you squished your cheek against his back. “I bet you did.”

Trevor sputtered out a denial, shaking his head. He relented just seconds later, unable to keep up the bit. “You’re right. I thought you were there like two minutes before you actually were.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Trevor placed the spatula down on the counter, then turned the burner off and moved the pan to a different spot on the cooktop. He turned in your arms, inching over just a bit so that you were trapping him against the counter, not the oven. He gasped, reaching up and cradling your face in the palms of his hands.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ve gotten even prettier in the two weeks that I haven’t seen you,” He marveled, tilting your head from side to side as you rolled your eyes.

You pushed away from him, walking out of the kitchen. 

Trevor trailed behind you like a puppy.

“You’re a loser,” You said.

“I love my pretty girlfriend,” Trevor replied. 

As you passed the couch in your living room, Trevor tackled you over the arm of the object and you fell onto the cushions. You shrieked at the contact, at the fall, and squirmed in Trevor’s grip as he kissed over your neck and face. His fingers were digging into your sides, causing you to giggle and snort between breaths. Trevor was relentless, until he decided to plant a kiss on your lips.

He captured your lips with intent, slowly slotting your bottom lip between his. Trevor always kissed you with purpose, slow, like he was trying to memorize you. He slid his mouth into your tongue like he was trying to lap up your sweetness, keep it on his tongue until he could place your taste and replicate it in a dish or a drink, something he’d be willing to consume every day for the rest of his life. You liked most when he nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling away, something that was so trademark Trevor that it made you breathless. He would always pull back just to look at you, to push your hair out of your face, before diving back in.

He kissed you so gently, so sweetly, that when you felt his bulge press against you, you were almost caught off guard.

“Been thinking about you,” Trevor purred against your lips. “About what you said the other day.”

You froze and Trevor pulled away, hovering over you. He searched your face carefully.

“We don’t have to,” He reassured you. “You know we don’t have to. I’d never make you.”

“I want to,” You replied, voice small. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Trevor asked. 

“What if I gag and I throw up all over you?” You cringed at the mere thought. “I’ll die if that happens.”

Trevor stifled a laugh. “I’ll shower and I’ll wait two weeks before letting you near my dick with your mouth again,” He answered, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

You pouted at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” He protested. “Baby, you’re not going to throw up on my dick.”

“What if I do?”

“I just told you what we’d do if you threw up on my dick!”

“Okay, well, you’re not being very supportive of my fears.”

Trevor sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders. He stared deeply into your eyes. “I understand you are afraid of vomiting on my penis. I assure you, that will not happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You whined.

“It’s never happened before,” Trevor said. He leaned down to kiss the spot under your ear. “Plus, baby, I’m going to go so slow that you’ll be begging for more by the end of it.”

A shiver ran down your spine at that, the way he whispered the words in your ear so his hot breath danced over your skin igniting a flame between your legs. 

“Why don’t,” Trevor began, his hand making his way to your clothed mound, “I show you just how good getting head would make me feel?”

His deft fingers rubbed in circles over your clit, the pressure just intense enough to make you moan.

“Would you like that? I’ll get my tongue on you, make you come once, maybe twice…” Trevor kissed you, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth then out of it. “And then we can revisit the idea of getting your mouth on me?”

“Yeah,” You agreed lamely, the heat between your legs growing more slick with each circle of his fingers and each wet kiss. 

Trevor stood from where he was lain on top of you. He untied your apron, which you had almost forgotten he was wearing, and tossed it to the side. He grabbed under your knees and dragged you down towards the arm of the couch, throwing one leg over the arm and setting your other foot on the floor. He kept a hand on that knee, rubbing smooth lines up and down your skin with his thumb. With his other hand, he traced the line of your folds through the fabric of your sweat-shorts.

 They were a loose pair, gray and almost threadbare after years of washes and use. The fabric of the shorts was the thinnest barrier Trevor could have faced. You could have put on panties when you got out of the shower, but had opted just for these shorts instead. They were more comfortable. Now, they were just something stopping him from getting his mouth on you.

Except, it didn’t stop him. 

Trevor mouthed over your clit, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered at the shock that it sent up your body, causing your fingertips to twitch at your side. He ran his tongue over the length of your pussy and chuckled to himself when your hips jumped beneath him. 

“Relax, honey,” Trevor said, his words muffled because he was still pressed against you. “Relax and enjoy.”

His fingers came up and moved your shorts out of the way, revealing you to him. Chastely, he kissed your folds, then pointedly blew cold air over your entrance. 

“Trev,” You let out, reaching a hand towards his, still rubbing on your knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Trevor licked his way up to your clit again, capturing it between his lips and sucking. He rolled the bud on his tongue, causing your hips to lift again. “Be good,” He told you, voice low. His eyes were closed as he continued to lick over you, practically french kissing your lower lips the same way he would the ones on your face.

It was a gradual build, the coil in your stomach tightening. You squeezed Trevor’s hand and ground down on his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting you hump it, before he tensed it at your entrance and prodded his way into you. He flicked the muscle fast, and the sensation was all too much for you. 

You came undone with a loud cry, your thighs closing around Trevor’s head involuntarily. 

He continued to lap at your release, cleaning you up and only stopping when you relaxed beneath him and pushed him away.

“How was that?” Trevor asked, his face level with yours. 

You reached out and looped your arms around his neck, dragging him forward until your lips crashed against his. This kiss, at your direction, was much more passionate. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. You turned, pushing at Trevor until he was the one seated on the couch. You found yourself on his lap, grinding down on his bulge.

“So you liked it?” Trevor asked.

You let out a laugh and sucked a hickey under his jaw. “Teach me how to make you feel good like that.”

Trevor shuddered when you scraped your teeth over his pulse point. “On your knees,” He told you. He guided you, with a hand on your shoulder, between his legs.

The sight of you there, feet tucked prettily under you, hands clasped in front of you, has Trevor’s dick twitching in his pants.

“Take my dick out, baby,” Trevor said, his voice soft but firm.

He lifted his hips as you pulled at his shorts. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him in just his briefs.

“Give me your hand.”

You reached up and he took your wrist, guiding your hand toward his bulge. He let your hand rest just to the side of him.

“Touch me. Over my pants.”

You traced the line of his dick over his pants, biting your lip when it jumped under your finger. You palmed him, fitting your hand over the curve of him and beginning to rub him up and down.

Trevor’s head tilted back and he let out a groan. “Faster.”

You sped up, just as he had asked you to, bringing your other hand up to cradle his balls.

“Fuck,” Trevor moaned, inadvertently tipping his hips up into your hand. “Take it out.”

You rushed to do so, scraping your nails against his sides when you pulled at his waistband. Trevor hissed at that, but didn’t say anything. When his dick was revealed to you, standing proud and dripping from the tip, you took it in your hand and leaned down to hesitantly lick his slit.

Trevor’s hands flew to your hair, the strands falling between his fingers. “Again,” He breathed out, eyes wide.

You licked his tip again, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh my God,” Trevor drawled out, borderline whimpering. “Baby, fuck, please.”

You smiled, proud of yourself for reducing him from someone who was so sure of himself and so loud to someone who is whining just from your touch. You circled your lips around his lip, sucking lightly.

His dick twitched. “So good,” Trevor praised. “Can you take more?”

You nodded out of instinct, but the sensation made him garble out an unintelligible string of words. You sunk down lower on his dick, feeling your lips stretch as you take him down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling how he slid in and out of you. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting– salty and just so man. You moaned, the vibrations enveloping Trevor’s dick in a way that made him buck up into your throat. You gagged, a tear forming on your waterline.

Trevor grabbed your hair and pulled you up, just barely off the head of his dick. 

“You okay?” He asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you gag.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “You taste so good, Trevor.” Trevor’s jaw dropped at the tone of your voice, light and innocent and sexy because it was worn with use. 

“Fuck, suck me again, just take it,” Trevor encouraged, gathering your hair into a ponytail.

You lowered your mouth onto Trevor again, tracing your tongue over the vein on the underside of his dick. You used one hand to pump the part of his dick that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, covering your teeth as best you could, but Trevor relished in the ghost of a scrape over his member when you got caught up in the moment.

He was groaning, babbling above you, his abs flexing as he drowned in pleasure. His face was flushed and you whined when you saw the mark that you left on his sharp jawline.

“Baby, you’re so good,” Trevor groaned. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You reached a hand down into your shorts and fingered furiously over your clit, swooning with the sensation there and of the weight on your tongue.

Trevor leaned forward and spotted your movements, saw your hand moving from inside your shorts. “Oh my God, fuck, yeah, make yourself come, too, baby…”

You gave it your all, twisting your hand around the length of Trevor that wasn’t inside your mouth. Drool slid out of your mouth, offering plenty of lubrication for your hand, making it easier to jerk him.

“God, fucking– baby, let me come on your face. Please, wanna see it on you,” Trevor begged.

He said it right as your fingers teased your entrance in just the right way, and you came for the second time that night, kneeling on the carpet for your boyfriend’s pleasure. 

You pulled off of Trevor, but kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. He took his dick in his hand and jacked himself off quickly, hand flying over his length. 

“Close your eyes,” Trevor warned, panting like he couldn’t catch his breath. “Don’t– fuck– don’t want to get my come in your eye.”

You obeyed him, reluctantly losing sight of his figure. There would be plenty of other times where you could watch his face contort with the bliss of his orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his hot, sticky come fall on your cheeks before Trevor aims his release at your tongue. 

“God, Y/N,” Trevor groaned out. “I kind of want to take a picture of you like this.”

“Can I open my eyes?” You asked, “Wanna look up at you.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of you with his come on your face. When your eyes opened and met his, he felt himself starting to harden again. “Now I really want to take a picture.”

You wiped some of the come off of your cheek with your thumb before licking it off the digit. “Next time. I believe you promised me a home cooked dinner.”

notes: dear trevor zegras, i <3 you and think we could really get up to no good if you'd just give me a look. also, i wrote this at work. also, also, my coworker was sitting next to me and one of the elderly ladies asked me what i was typing. no comment.

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒖𝒎 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

Part One: VIP Access

Park Seonghwa X gn!afab!reader

Summary: Once again, you get railed by your boyfriend while he's still in his stage persona. This time, at Coachella.

WC: 4.8k

CW: (Filthy) smut with fluffy aftercare (teeth rotting fluff I got carried away)

Names used on the reader: Sweetheart, sweetie, gorgeous, whore, slut, bitch, baby (Please let me know if I missed anything)

Smut warnings: Voice/auralism kink, glove kink(?), kissing, marking (reader receiving), hair pulling (reader and idol receiving), grinding, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected PIV sex, nipple play (idol receiving), degradation, dumbification(?), overstimulation, creampie, reader experiences sub drop (Please let me know if I missed anything)

AN: I mean, come on, how could I not write about Seonghwa at Coachella?

It's not really a literal part two of VIP Access, but it is set in the same timeline (is that the right word?), so...I guess we're calling it part two, why not. I hope you all enjoy the (very self indulgent) filth I've cooked up. 💜

And @malldreamprincess helped with some of Hwa's especially filthy lines, so everyone say thank you to her. 💜

Tag List: @cherrycel @mxnsxngie @malldreamprincess @asjkdk

First it was the beginning of their world tour. 

Now it's Coachella. 

When Seonghwa told you months before that Ateez would be performing at the festival, you were over the moon for them. 

Your boyfriend and his group were the first K-Pop boy group to perform at Coachella.

The pride you felt was immense. They'd come so far in their career, and they’d only grow bigger and go higher from here. 

You were incredibly grateful to join them for their time at Coachella, being able to sneak in as one of their staff members to get premium access to see your boys on the big stage. 

And God, did they kill it. 

Every single one, brimming with confidence and raw brutal energy, walking, talking, dancing, singing, and rapping like the kings they were. 

From the outfits to the stage to the props to the set list, everything was as it should've been: Electrifying. 

But through it all, your eyes went back to Seonghwa. 

From his long wavy hair that looked like a lion's mane blowing in the wind, to his outfit showing off his chest, to the confidence that dripped from every word and movement, he'd never looked hotter. 

And that's saying a lot, because Seonghwa looks good and hot in every performance. 

You should've been focused on the music and the vibes. The screams of the crowd, the bass blaring from the speakers. 

But in the back of your mind, you were thinking about how badly you wanted Seonghwa to take you against a wall. 

Against a table, the floor, fuck, anyway he wanted, you'd take it. 

When Arriba came on, you started imagining being bent over that bar by him. 

Especially after their shots, God, could he ever be hotter than this? 

(Probably)

But Seonghwa’s voice?

You already adored his voice, you could listen to him talk about anything and everything forever. But his accent when he spoke English made you feel things. 

That coupled with his confidence and stage persona, you were thoroughly soaked by the end. 

When they finally concluded their set, you took off running to get backstage to see them. You frantically flashed your badge to anyone who tried to stop you as you made your way through the crowds around the equipment. 

Until your eyes finally landed on your boyfriend, who was also looking around for you as he was wiping the sweat off of his face. When you two made eye contact, Seonghwa’s face shifted into a sinister smirk that sent shivers all over your body. 

You ran the rest of the way to him and threw your arms around him to trap him in a tight hug. He returned it instantly, even if he was drenched in sweat and still out of breath. 

Honestly, the shine of his skin from the sweat made him look even hotter. 

“You liked the show, sweetheart?” Seonghwa asked you, reaching up to brush your hair back. You nodded as you looked up at him. 

“I loved it! You were amazing! You all were! I'm so proud of you!” 

And every word was genuine as you smiled up at Seonghwa. He shared it, as he too felt pride in his chest from the performance. It was a huge achievement to perform at a festival like this, and to have it go as well as it did? Even better. 

“Thank you.” Seonghwa kissed your forehead as his hand trailed down to your waist. He pulled you against his side as he began to walk offstage, bringing you with him. “I had so much fun, that was amazing.” 

“I could tell.” You leaned your head on him as you gazed up at him. All those sinful thoughts from before rushed back into your head. 

Especially as his gloved hand was holding onto your waist, your face right next to his exposed chest. Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined your face pressed right in the center- 

“I can’t wait to do it all again next week.” Seonghwa’s voice abruptly dragged you out of your fantasy, making you shake your head to erase the thoughts from your head. But Seonghwa saw how red your face is, and he knew it wasn’t just from the heat. 

You’d seen his outfit before he went on stage, and Seonghwa delighted in seeing your face flush bright red, even seeing it creep down your neck. 

He knew exactly how this night was going to end from the start. 

“My eyes are up here, you know.” Your face turned red as you snapped your head up to look at him. Seonghwa’s lips curled up in that damn smirk again as he held you tighter, pulling your face closer to his chest. “How rude, sweetheart.” 

You had no words as you looked at the ground, your whole body heating up and your stomach filling with butterflies. Seonghwa used his other gloved hand to hold your chin and tilt your head back up to look at him. 

“Let’s get back to the hotel quickly then, since you can’t seem to wait.” 

You nodded wordlessly, the lust and greed beginning to take over your brain. Seonghwa’s tongue ran over his lips as his thumb ran over your own. 

Even as you felt incredibly small and embarrassed next to him, this is exactly what you wanted. 

To have Seonghwa possessed by his stage persona and have his way with you. 

You walked into Seonghwa’s room first, leaving him to lock the door behind you. And as you turned around to look at him, he was staring at you like a predator who cornered their prey, with that devilish smirk still on his lips. 

You watched him as he slowly slid his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, tossing it onto the bed behind you, all as he stalked up to you in an almost feline way. Slow, calculated, elegant. 

Just like Seonghwa. 

His arms looped around your waist and pulled you against his body, and already, you felt his half hard dick pressing against his pants and up against you. 

Your arms shot up to hold onto his arms as he leaned down to capture your lips in a needy, bruising kiss. One of Seonghwa’s hands went up to hold the back of your head to pull you in more and keep you in place. 

As if you’d ever pull away. 

You happily let his tongue slip inside your mouth and lick all over, pushing his way around, letting you swallow up all his deep, animalistic groans. 

When you dug your nails into Seonghwa’s skin, a growl came from deep inside his chest, and you’d snapped the thin leash that was holding him back. 

He reached down and grabbed the backs of your thighs to pick you up and drop you down on the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist as he leaned over you, giving him premium access to grind down against your sopping core. 

“Fuck, sweetie, you’re soaked,” Seonghwa groaned against your lips. “Is that all because of me? All for me?” 

You eagerly nodded, but Seonghwa clicked his tongue and gripped onto your hair, giving it a sharp tug. “Use your words, come on, tell me.” He leaned close until his nose was pressing against yours and his breath was against your lips. “Are you this wet because of me?”

“Yes, yes Seonghwa, it’s because of you,” you moaned out, still digging your nails into his biceps. You had a death grip on his waist to keep him where you needed him most. 

“Oh, it better be,” he mumbled as he leaned into your neck to suck a mark into your skin. Fire ran over your skin as his mouth worked to put purple blooms all over your neck. His claiming mark that you were his, all his. 

Your head was spinning as the pressure continued to build between your thighs from the constant friction on your clothed clit. You let out a strangled whimper as you reached up to pull on Seonghwa’s hair, forcing a groan out of him, along with an eye roll you couldn’t see. 

“Seonghwa, please, touch me,” you whined out desperately, trying to grind up with him for more. Seonghwa pulled back to look at you, his arms beside your head as he hovered above you. 

“But I am touching you.” His voice was low and breathy as he spoke, bordering on primal. Shivers ran across your skin again as his words invaded you and the feeling spread all over your body. 

“Seonghwa, I need you in my cunt.” 

“Isn’t that where I am already?” 

And he just ground into you harder, forcing even filthier noises out of both of you. A broken whimper shot from your lips as you pulled on Seonghwa’s hair again, throwing your head back into the plush hotel comforter. 

The pressure was only continuing to build, and it was slowly turning painful. Seonghwa knew it, because he was just as needy as you were. He was as hard as a rock, soaking his own pants through with pre cum, his whole body screaming with the desire to fuck you into the mattress. 

But Seonghwa wanted to hear you say it. He wanted you to beg. He wanted to hear how badly you needed him. 

“Please, take it off, fuck me, I don’t care, I need you so bad!” 

There it was. 

Seonghwa stood back up and gladly pulled your bottoms off, and before you knew it was happening, literally ripping your underwear off your body. 

At first, you wanted to tell him off for ruining your clothes, but at the same time, you couldn’t deny that it was incredibly hot that he was so desperate to have you, he ripped your clothes to get to you. 

And just like that, you were left bare before him. You nearly fainted when he looked at your cunt like it was the first meal he’d had in weeks, his eyes lighting up like stars and his tongue falling out of his mouth like a dog. 

God, you were so lucky to have a boyfriend who loved your cunt this much. 

You watched him sink to his knees in front of you, and he began to take off his velvet gloves, but you shook your head. 

“Keep them on,” you blurted, making him look up at you in surprise. 

“What?” He asked, not really believing what he was hearing. Your cheeks burned hot again as you looked off to the side. 

“Keep them on. I like them.” You mumbled the last part, but it was still clear enough for Seonghwa to hear. He still couldn’t really believe it, but at the same time, he didn’t mind it. 

“Alright, but you have to explain this to the stylists.” 

Seonghwa pulled the gloves on tighter before he wrapped his arms around your thighs. He yanked you forward so you were on the very edge of the bed, as close as he could get you. 

“Look at you,” Seonghwa murmured, “so beautiful. Aren’t I blessed to have such a pretty pussy for myself.” 

You could only whimper out his name as he licked from your entrance to your clit, taking his time to collect all your sweetness. His eyes rolled back into his head as he swallowed it, and tightened his hold on your thighs. 

“So delicious.” He went in for another long lick, closing his eyes as he did. “So sweet.” Another lick, this time focusing on your entrance to take in more. He groaned into your cunt before he swallowed again. “Fucking heavenly.” 

Even with the teasing licks, his voice was sending you to cloud nine. All his words, the tone of his voice, the breathy moans and groans, it was only making you even more needy for him. 

You reached down and gripped onto his hair at the roots, tugging gently, forcing another groan out of him as his eyes flicked up to you. Those damn siren eyes of his as his tongue was all in your cunt was enough to make you melt into a puddle. 

“Please, baby, don’t tease.” 

“Aww, am I making you wait too long, sweetie?” Seonghwa asked, almost in a mocking tone. Not quite, because you both wanted him to devour you as much as the other, but again, he loved to make you beg. 

You nodded shyly as you spread your legs wider. A silent invitation, and one that threw Seonghwa’s composure out the window. 

His gloved hands gripped onto you tighter as he dove back into your cunt, his mouth latching onto your clit and sucking harshly. A cry left your lips as you clung onto his hair and squeezed his head. 

He sucked like the last bit of air on Earth was inside you, desperately moaning into your cunt as he did. Just as your thighs began to shake, Seonghwa let go to use his tongue instead, flicking his tongue against your clit, watching your face as you clenched around nothing. 

You were crying out his name so loud, the members in the other rooms could hear you. He’d get an earful from them tomorrow, but that was for him to worry about later. 

Seonghwa let go of one of your thighs to reach up and slowly rub your entrance. The velvet against your core made fire race through your bones, and you clenched down instinctively. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk as he continued to rub up against you, going back to suck on your clit again, only making you clench down harder. 

“Seonghwa,” you whined, almost in frustration. Seonghwa let out a soft “hmm?” as he looked up at you, blinking at you innocently. You nearly wanted to smack that look off his face, but all you could do was give him your best puppy eyes. 

You were lucky he’d do anything for you. 

Seonghwa released your clit and slowly sunk two fingers into your cunt, taking his time to make his way in and stretch you out. The feeling of the velvet inside you made you melt, your head and eyes rolling back in tandem. 

“Aww, maybe I do need to keep these,” Seonghwa mused, admiring your face for a moment before he looked back at your hole that was choking his fingers. “If you like it this much, my little slut.” 

A weak groan left your throat as your thighs trembled again. You were clenched down so tight on him. His cock twitched in his pants as he craved for that to be inside you instead. His pants were nearly completely soaked through, almost making him feel bad for whoever would be washing his clothes. 

Seonghwa slowly moved his fingers inside you, watching your face and body for any resistance or hesitation. But when all he got was your soft needy moans, he gladly went back to where he was prior. 

His tongue went back to attacking your clit as his fingers sped up inside you, reaching back and curling up into that sweet spot inside you. He found it in no time, and when he did, he latched back onto your clit and smirked. 

Over and over, his name fell from your lips as you clung onto his hair like you’d disappear if you let go. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa!” as he sucked and licked at your clit, his fingers pumping inside you, slowly increasing his pace until your thighs were shaking around his head again. 

God, did he love that. His eyes fell closed as he worked on your cunt, savoring the taste of you, moaning at every tug of his hair and cry of his name. He could’ve stayed there all night, he could probably come just from devouring your delicious cunt. 

But Seonghwa couldn’t deny his precious little whore his cock. 

“Seonghwa,” you choked out, pulling him out of his thoughts. He flicked his siren eyes back up to you, not slowing down for a second. You opened your mouth to try and speak, but another tremor ran through you and cut you off with another cry. 

But you didn’t need to say anything, Seonghwa already knew what you were trying to tell him. He didn’t answer, he just kept at his pace to make you come all over his face. 

And in his head, he was saying everything he wanted to but couldn’t. 

Come for me, sweetheart, come on. Just for me, you can do it, drown me, pull my hair, hold me in, anything to make you come. Come on my face, gorgeous, please please please-

With one loud cry of his name, you squeezed his head as you came on his fingers, clenching down even tighter than before, pulling on his hair and keeping him where you needed him most. 

Seonghwa melted into your cunt with a whiny moan, fucking you through your orgasm, slowing down his movements until you came back down to Earth. 

He slowly pulled his fingers out and begrudgingly pulled away from your cunt. Part of him wanted to stay on his knees until they ached, making you come with his mouth and fingers until you saw stars and begged for the end. 

He’d done it many times before, after all. 

But he could feel the tiredness creeping up on him, and by the look on your face, you were feeling it too. 

So he’d save it for another day. 

Seonghwa slowly got up from the floor, and as you looked at him, shivers ran all over your body again. His mouth and chin were covered in your sweetness, glistening in the soft golden light of the lamps, his pupils blown out and his chest heaving. 

And as he looked down at you, his cock twitched with aching desire. You’re all spread out for him, your hair a mess, your face red, your pretty lips swollen. 

In that moment, you both got a sudden surge of energy, and you were back where you started. 

Seonghwa dove on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours, crawling onto the bed with you, one hand going up to cup the side of your neck and face, the other grabbing onto your waist and urging you up the bed. 

You grabbed onto the back of his neck as you kissed him back, moving up the bed like he wanted until your head was laid on the pillows. 

The kisses were pure desperation, teeth clinking against one another, spit all over your cheeks and chins, tongues wildly pushing and pulling against each other. With the savagery between you two, you couldn’t even call whatever you were doing kisses. 

All this while you were helping Seonghwa undo his belt and yank his pants down, just enough to free his cock, which was covered in pre cum with the tip an angry red. Seonghwa let out a soft whimper as the cool air hit him, his eyebrows furrowing in near pain. 

He pushed you back into the bed with a more firm kiss this time before he slowly sunk his cock into you, and you both let out cries of need as he did. 

Your eyes fluttered as your head hit the pillows, and Seonghwa’s face was nothing but relief as he slid all the way into the hilt, unsurprisingly, without resistance. 

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered as he leaned his forehead on yours. You nodded wordlessly before you reached up to press your lips to his again. Seonghwa moaned as he returned the kiss, his hands locking around your hips as he slowly began to move his hips. 

Your arms went up and wrapped around his neck, holding him as close as you could get him. Seonghwa gladly melted into all your touches, and for those first few moments, you were thinking he’d be going easy on you. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

It didn’t take long before Seonghwa increased his pace, making sure he hit your sweet spot when he did. You broke off the kiss with a strangled cry and gripped onto his hair. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk as he looked down at you, letting out a breathless laugh. 

“That feels good?” He panted out. “Yeah? Tell me, sweetheart.” Seonghwa took one hand off your hip and propped himself up beside your head, leaning as close as he could so he could stare into your eyes. “Come on, I want to hear you tell me how much of a whore you are for my cock.” 

The sudden change in tone makes you choke on nothing as your eyes flick back to him. All words left your head, which only made Seonghwa want to fuck you harder. 

Seeing you confused, at a loss for words, or better yet, unable to answer him because the pleasure is too much, was such a delightful sight. 

Just to make it harder, Seonghwa took his other hand and grabbed the back of your head again and pulled your face into his chest, holding you right where you imagined being because of his goddamn outfit. 

And you melted right into him, one of your arms instead wrapping around his shoulder to keep your face right between his tits. 

“Aww, look at that,” Seonghwa panted, tilting his head back, his eyes rolling back into his head. “There’s my little whore, you-Oh shit!” 

He cried out when he felt your mouth on one of his nipples, licking and sucking on it, his shirt pulled to the side for access. His dick twitched as he looked down at you with your eyes closed and brows pulled together, moaning and whining as you did. 

“Fuck, you are just a little whore, aren’t you?” You looked up at Seonghwa as he spoke, and it took everything in him to not melt right there on the spot. You hummed in answer, swirling your tongue around the sensitive spot before going back to sucking on it. “God, you’ll be the death of me.” 

Seonghwa gripped your head tighter and fucked you faster, desperately trying to keep up his rhythm through this thick cloud of pleasure he’d wrapped himself in, whiny moans falling from his pretty plush lips. 

But he was a little too quiet for your taste. 

You pulled back with a soft whine, which prompted him to look back at you in confusion. “Talk to me,” you whined, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Please, I love your voice.” 

Seonghwa knew that good and damn well. You could never get enough of his voice, you were always asking him to say the filthiest shit to you while he was ramming his cock deep inside you. 

Especially tonight, something about his accent when he spoke English was special. 

And like the good boyfriend he was, he provided. 

Seonghwa leaned close to your ear and made his voice low, coming from deep in his chest: “My desperate little whore really wants to hear my voice?” Chills ran over your skin just from that, and you were about to answer when he continued. 

“Did all that fucking talking on stage get to you that much? Oh, I got myself a slutty little bitch who turns into a puddle when she hears me talk. Lucky me.” 

Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk when he saw your brain turn to mush from his words. He was about to mock you and comment on it when your started babbling back: 

“I do! I do, baby, I’m a slut for your voice! Everything you say, fuck-” And you were about to continue when Seonghwa leaned his forehead back on yours, staring back into your soul with a harder gaze than before. A cry left your lips as he began to ram his cock into you harder. 

“Yeah? You’re a slut period,” he ground out, letting go over your head to reach down to rub your clit. The velvet makes you yelp and jerk, but he keeps his thumb rubbing in circles. “A little whore for me, yeah?” 

“Yes,” you choked out, both your hands clinging onto his shoulders as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. Seonghwa pressed his forehead into yours harder, pushing you further into the mattress, pinning you down. 

“You're a disgusting cheap whore,” he spat, rubbing your clit faster. “A dumb fucking whore that only thinks about my cock and nothing else. Only wanting to milk me dry, yeah?” 

Your vision was growing blurry from tears of overstimulation, but you found a way to nod and cry out “yes” through it all. Seonghwa was panting heavily now, his words breathy and his hips starting to stutter. You were both growing closer, but you were closer. 

Just a little more and you’d tip over that edge, that sweet relief that was right there. From all your squeaks and cries, and the way your cunt was gripping him like a goddamn iron vice, he knew it too. Just a few more words, just a few more seconds. 

“You just want me to stuff you full until you break,” Seonghwa breathed, “making you a goddamn mess for me to watch. A pretty little fucked out mess.”

As the words left his hips, you tip over and fell head first into your orgasm, clawing his back as it washed over you, screaming his name loud enough for people on the other floors to hear you. 

Seonghwa choked as you somehow clenched down even tighter. That mixed with your desperate, animalistic clawing of his back and cries of his name as the tears finally spilled down your cheeks, he was done for. 

“Oh sweetheart, yes, oh yes! That’s my love, oh fuck!” He babbled out, his voice growing more and more choked until he finally came deep inside you, crying out your name as he buried his face in your neck. 

You locked your arms around him and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back as he slowed down to an eventual stop. 

And as your orgasm faded, so did the euphoria of the moment, and you crashed back down to normal. 

Tears quickly filled your eyes and a sob left your lips, and before you could stop it, you were crying into Seonghwa’s shirt. 

Your loving boyfriend quickly took you in his arms and held you tightly against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you clung onto him like a small kitten, crying for it’s mother. 

“I got you, sweetie,” Seonghwa whispered, one of his hands slowly rubbing your back while the other held your head against him. “You did so good for me. You’re the best baby I could ever ask for.” 

The praise made you smile, and the tears began to slow. “Thank you,” you whispered back. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” He kissed your head again, this one longer than the last. A more loving kiss. You just smiled bigger as you nuzzled into his chest. 

You both stayed silent then, basking in the afterglow, slowly letting your bodies recover and come back down to Earth. Seonghwa’s hand still rubbed your back, and you played with his long, wavy, gorgeous hair. 

Outside your room window, the city was still buzzing with activity. Coachella, in the distance, was still going strong. 

But for those few minutes, you two were the only people in the world. Just you two, in that little hotel room, in each other's arms. 

For those brief moments, life was perfect. 

Seonghwa eventually broke the silence as he pulled away from you. “I'm so happy you came to this with me.” He pulled you up and helped you out of bed, helping you stand on your still weak legs. “It wouldn't have been the same without you.” 

You smiled up at him, and you saw a flush in Seonghwa’s cheeks. He couldn’t help it when you were looking at him like that. 

Like you held the whole universe in your eyes. Like he hung all the stars and moons in the sky himself. 

He was truly, irreversibly, madly in love with you. 

You both helped each other clean up and get changed before you turned out the lights and crawled back into bed. 

You couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. In your Seonghwa’s arms, your wonderful boyfriend’s arms. The boyfriend who loved you more than anything else in this life, the boyfriend who dreamed about you being his forever. 

And you thought the same about him. As you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes, you thanked whatever higher power there was out there, the universe, whatever brought you to Seonghwa, for this life. 

“I love you, Seonghwa,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. Seonghwa smiled and kissed the top of your head again, squeezing you back just as tight. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

And again, everything else faded out, and you two were the only ones in existence. 

You were home. With him.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[binsito]

skz doing oral pls 🫣

my two most favorite things in the whole world 🤤

skz giving their s/o oral !

bangchan: he loves to take his time savoring you, burying his face in your cunt and humming softly. your pleasure comes before his so he'll make sure to make you cum at least twice ♡ you might have to reach for him and tap him softly, scared he'll suffocate himself with how far his face is pressed in. he loves complimenting your cunt, having a sense of possessiveness over it because that's his cunt and he's the one making it squelch and cream.

"pretty princess with a pretty cunt.. mm.. my cunt.. my hole.. all mine" he would groan as he licks his lips before he digs in, watching you spread your folds for him, sticky with arousal. he could go down on you for hours on end, you'd have to stop him because you'll become a whiny, overstimulated mess under him

leeknow: he likes to spit on your cunt so badly, likes how it makes you squirm when you watch his spit land on your clit. he uses it to make you all messy, fucks it into your hole with his tongue. he'll nip at your folds and clit playfully, watching your back arch at the sting. he finds your neediness amusing, how your little hole flutters when he pulls back to look at you. he can't wait to split you on his cock later, but for now, he's making sure he slicks you up with his tongue. he can't even tell what your arousal or his spit is anymore with the mess he's created. changbin: absolutely loves face sitting! mount his face and cage him in with your thighs, i promise you he will not let you go. he'll make sure of that by wrapping his big arms around your legs, keeping you still while he laps at you hastily. when he feels you buck your hips, he'll guide your movements and stick his tongue out, letting it brush against your clit. he giggles into your cunt when he feels your hips jolt, too much pleasure for you to stay still. he wants his face to be entirely soaked by you, gripping on to your asscheeks and kneading them while he makes you grind on his face. when he latches on to your clit and sucks, he might just send you over the edge, your body spasming as he grips you tightly, not letting you get away until you're crying over how sensitive you are.

hyunjin: he'd have you pressed up against the sliding door that lead out to his balcony, him between your legs, licking his fingers and pumping them into you while he buries his face in between your asscheeks. you were so breathtaking to him and he wanted everyone to see the pretty faces you were making because of him. he wanted to memorize this moment, so he would burn it into his mind to then turn it into a painting. he'd also enjoy giving you oral in the shower. easier clean up, he would say - only to continue for another round after you had both gotten out. he just can't help himself, he wants to live buried in your cunt, sucking on it and pleasuring you until you're a writhing mess.

han: his favorite form of oral is 69 ♡ nothing better than having a face full of cunt and a cute ass while he's getting mind blowing head. he's so squirmy, he'll keep making you gag because he can't keep his hips still - thrusting up and hitting the back of your throat while he fucks you open with his tongue. he also likes it very messy, lots of spit and ass grabbing. he'll even spank you a couple of times just because he likes to see his hand print and your ass jiggle. even after you've both cum, he'll be begging you to go again because he's incredibly pussy drunk and he hasn't gotten his fix just yet. so be good for him and let him go for another round or two before he's completely fucked out. felix: he'd have days where he would be very sensual giving oral, or absolutely feral with lust. on the days where he's gentle, you'd waken him up in the middle of the night after a wet dream. him being the most perfect partner ever, would get under the sheets between your legs and give you kittenish licks, lapping gently while he rubbed your clit. mumbling incoherent sweet nothings because he's so cute and sleepy but his baby needed him right then and there so he had to please her! but then there's days where your teasing goes too far, he had just had a long day and he can't take it anymore. he didn't care if he made it to the bedroom on time, he'd bend you over the couch and devour you on the spot, pulling your panties to the side and biting your asscheek harshly before prodding at your hole with his tongue seungmin: he likes having you stand up while he kneels from behind you, your back arched prettily as you try to hold yourself up with the wall. regardless of the position, he's anything but submissive. making you look back at him while he licked your cunt clean, his eyes locked on yours. he'd spread your asscheeks to make sure he got in there good, using his tongue to reach deep inside your walls and moaning at the taste. sometimes he'd even have you sit on the edge of the bed, him between your legs as he flicked your cunt with lazy licks. he loved teasing you and was refusing to flatten his tongue against you, only using the very tip of his tongue to give you any type of pleasure.

jeongin: he'd want you spread open on a counter, he might even feel a little frisky and pull out a can of whip cream, spraying a dollop on your cunt before he licks it clean off you, eyes rolling back at the taste. if he had gotten some on the corners of his mouth, he'd make sure to keep eye contact with you as he'd swipe his tongue over it, collecting the residue off his lips. you were his little treat and he loved to spoil you, making sure to tell you how sweet your cunt tasted and generously licking you. he loved to see how your arousal would pool down on to the countertop and how your thighs would get sticky from the whip cream

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[calqlate]

THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS AND THEIR KDRAMA ML COUNTERPARTS

INCLUDES: rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne

WARNING(S): might be ooc bc i don't really keep up with the lore so there might be some inconsistencies (oops) (pls be gentle) (it's 10pm here and my brain is running on adrenaline) + contains some canon lore drops ig

MASTERLIST

NOTE(S): i will never stop inserting my fandoms into kdramas bc i love seeing worlds collide. anw pls partake in this brainrot with me 🤩

— RAFAYEL

ryu sunjae from lovely runner - they are both absolute losers for their respective lovers. i can picture rafayel in that one scene where sunjae was blowing kisses towards sol's house. no matter how hard his beloved tries to cut him out from their life to save him, he will always find his way back into their life.

jeong guwon from my demon - similar to sunjae, guwon is also another loser for his wife. (tbh i can imagine rafayel as a down bad simp for his lover; cue thomas sighing and shaking his head.) i can picture rafayel in the scene whereby guwon and dohee were doing that tango while fighting off their enemies too?!?!

lee yeon from tale of the nine-tailed - continuing the loser boy train, we have yeon as the final dude to add in this group. (specifically yeon from s2, bc the way he wanted to go back to his timeline so badly to see jiah matches rafayel's "the only person i'll ever love is my lover" energy.) their backstories also match in the sense that yeon never stopped searching for jiah and rafayel never stopped waiting for his bride.

— SYLUS

myulmang from doom at your service - not me choosing myulmang bc they both made contracts to their beloveds [clown emoji]. but nonetheless they're similar in the sense that they won't think twice about eliminating someone who hurts their lover.

shin wooyeo from my roommate is a gumiho - again, another contract situation. wooyeo is a "classier" version of sylus imo, and one who uses less pet names. if sylus were the ml in this kdrama, he would defo keep an even more watchful eye on his beloved so that she doesn't go about losing his fox bead. (aur naur iw to write a gumiho au for sylus now...)

lee youngjoon from what's wrong with secretary kim? - similar to youngjoon, sylus will never let his lover leave. they want to leave his mansion? he will try 101 (legal) ways to make them stay. they will find snacks they like in their room more often. they will find new (and expensive) clothes in their wardrobe. heck, even an all-expenses-paid vacation! he wants to keep them close to him; he's afraid of them upping him to leave.

— XAVIER

goo yeonjun from a time called you - like yeonjun, xavier has literally went back in time to save his beloved. he wants to see then safe and sound, and as long as they're happy, he's happy. as long as they're alive and breathing, he's fine with not being by their side. just watching them live their life is enough for him.

haru from extraordinary you - totally not projecting my all-time fav kdrama on him (or am i?) but xavier and haru have similar mannerisms and personality traits. yk how in the first few episodes danoh was dragging haru around and this guy just remained silent and followed along until one day he just started speaking? yeah that's the same with this guy. the person he likes could yap all day and he would willingly sit and listen.

moon seoha from see you in my 19th life - similar to seoha, xavier loves once in his life and he will only ever love his little star. he would never get over their death and if he's the one responsible for their death, he would be all the more upset with himself. he would throw himself into work all day and refuse to love again, thinking he shouldn't be able to fall in love ever again since he took his beloved's one chance of staying alive and happy away.

— ZAYNE

moon suho from black knight - they're both so overprotective of the one they love. the way suho essentially told sharon that haera is the only woman he would ever love is something i can picture zayne doing. if someone is out there trying to harm his beloved, you'd best believe zayne would do his best to prevent that from happening, even if it means giving up his own life.

lee suhyeok from bora! deborah - when zayne loves, he loves hard. like suhyeok, he's clumsy at expressing his affections, choosing to keep everything to himself and wait until he's 100% certain it's the right time to say whatever he wants to say. and sometimes, that can lead to disastrous endings (see also: suhyeok getting dumped on the same day he went to buy an engagement ring for his girlfriend). both men are careful to a fault, all the more so with their beloved because they're scared of losing someone precious to them again.

yoo jihyuk from marry my husband - zayne, like jihyuk, would willingly stand aside and watch the one he loves fall in love with someone else. he would be supportive and wouldn't try to fight for their affection. his motto is "if they're happy, i'm happy" and he can live being an unmarried old man as long as he sees them happy.

© CALQLATE. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[princessfbi]

“What was that noise?” + polyfire

You should know in true us fashion I had a smutty idea and a whumpy idea for this one. Today smutty wins.

“What was that noise?”

Heat burned into Buck’s cheeks as he stared up at them. The humiliation started slow, spreading down his throat into his chest and up to the top of his head as he clamped his teeth down onto his lip. His body was slick with sweat and spit and blazing from the inside out but Tommy and Eddie were staring down at him like he was a wonder.

Their twinned stunned expressions morphed through a kaleidoscope of emotions and Buck could only hold his breath and wait. Wait for them to decide if they would spare him some dignity and pretend they hadn’t heard it. Or—

Tommy pinned down Buck’s wrists and Buck keened beneath the pressure. His back bowed off the bed as the inferno inside his veins surged and Buck keened. A mewling, pathetic sound that was the definition of desperate and not at all sexy but god he couldn’t help it.

Tommy eased his grip but didn’t let go. He got it first because of course he did. They’d been dating long enough to know each other’s in and outs but they hadn’t had a chance to explore… this. Not before they realized that every night they spent with Eddie just added more fuel for their desire to have him too. Even then, Tommy had always been gentle. A tender, world shattering mind blowing gentleness that made Buck nearly sob with how cared for he felt. No one had ever held him the way Tommy did. Like he was something to be cared for. Like he was something that could shatter and that was the last thing in the world Tommy wanted. Like he was to be treasured and loved.

It was a gentleness that swept into their new dynamic with Eddie. It started as carefulness, a considerate but curious hand that traveled along Buck’s body as Eddie explored. There had been a wonder too. Like Eddie didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to run his fingertips along Buck’s ribcage, taste his lips, feel the way Buck unraveled beneath his attention. Gentleness was at the very heart of Eddie’s nature and Buck didn’t know how he’d been so lucky to somehow be wanted by the two most gentle people in all the world.

Most days he felt unworthy of them. Those same days, however, they spent hours trying to change his mind.

“Oh,” Tommy said, his brow furrowed in concentration and Buck tried hide his face in his bicep before he imploded with embarrassment. Tommy squeezed his wrists again and Buck squeaked as he blinked up at them. “There it is.”

Eddie looked back down at him with an almost frown marring his expression before his eyes drifted to Tommy’s hands and then Tommy.

When he looked back down at Buck again, his eyes were smoldering.

“You like that?” Eddie asked, so very much the opposite of gentle hands grabbing onto his hips and forcing his legs even wider.

Buck stuttered out as gasp as he slid across the mattress, a pressure building in his shoulders as Tommy kept him pinned in place by his hands. The barest hint of Eddie’s nails scraped up the soft parts of his thighs and Buck trembled all over as he tried to close his legs. But Eddie was fitted in between them, holding them open and leaving Buck exposed.

“Is there something you’ve been wanting to ask us for, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, his voice dark and teasing as those nails dragged up his stomach and chest before sliding up to his throat.

He didn’t squeeze. But the weight was there. A promise.

Buck shivered.

“You want us to be a little mean to you?” Tommy asked.

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesyes!

Buck didn’t know how much he wanted that until that very moment but he wanted. He wanted it so badly he thought he would die without it.

It wasn’t his first time being adventurous in the bed. But it was the first time it was with two partners that could throw him around like he weighed nothing at all. Buck wanted it. Wanted to be like a rag doll between the two people who made him feel nothing but safe for his every breath.

Tommy yanked Buck’s hands further above his head as Eddie dragged his nails over the pebbling nubs of his nipples. White hot pain laced with the burning pleasure churning deep in his belly. It stole his vision away as Buck squirmed. He whined high and thin as he tried to get some more.

“Use your words, baby boy.”

That. That wasn’t something Buck knew would alight the already burning inferno inside him.

“Oh,” Eddie practically purred as he swept his thumb over Buck’s lips. “He liked that one.”

The heat in Buck’s face soared down his throat into his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut. Sparked dashed across his eyelids as he tried to will the racing of his heart down but it was no use. Not when the gentle fingertips from before were slowly but surely turning deliciously bruising.

“P-Please…” He breathed.

“Listen how pretty he begs.” Eddie praised and it washed through Buck like a wave that stole all the air from his lungs.

“I bet we could find some more noises,” Tommy said, his smile wicked and beautiful.

“If we work together,” Eddie said and Buck only barely opened his eyes to see Eddie surge forward to capture Tommy’s lips with his own.

[rubra-wav]

Hiya! I absolutely loved your posts about the HH main cast dealing with a sick reader and them being sick. You did a phenomenal job with them!

As for a request, what about Vox, hell’s resident bipedal tv, hc’s of him realizing he’s legitimately falling for reader?

Vox realises he has feelings for you

A/N : Thank you so much seriously!! 💛

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, suggestive comment at one point, angst-ish/ Vox coping

- It'll be a good long time before he realises he's fallen for you, and when he finally does, he's fully in it. There's no turning back and there's no backpedalling. He's absolutely whipped.

- It hits him one day like a train that he's actually in love with you all at once.

- He hung out with you the afternoon, and that night he's laying on his back with his phone gripped in his hand against his chest.

- It's been exactly 3 and a half hours since you were out together on a movie date at the VIP premiere. (as in in the ridiculously lavish movie room he had within Vee tower)

- He had been counting.

- You hadn't texted him back yet, and he was tapping his claw impatiently waiting for you to message him back with the world's biggest pout on his face.

- He'd already sent 4 texts, and none of them had been answered yet. He had to stop himself from sending more because he didn't want to seem too desperate. (Even though he was)

- He told himself he'd be mad that you had made him wait whenever you got back to him. He'd blow up over it.

- However, the second his phone buzzes and he sees the notification from you saying you had fun and were sorry you hadn't gotten back immediately it's like his dopamine receptors have been kicked into absolute overdrive.

- He's giddy. Warmth is flooding his chest, and he starts breathing heavier as the world's dorkiest smile spreads across his face.

- It isn't then that he realises exactly, but it's when you leave to go to sleep after texting him for a couple of hours with a flirtatious comment that has his head spinning and sparking.

- You were talking about how you'd washed your sheets that day and were making your bed. He acted like he was bored, and your next words absolutely took him out.

- "Fine. Next time, come over, and I'll spread you out on my bed then."

- When he calms down, it's messed up again as he's questioning himself.

- Why did I glitch out to them saying something that resembles a shitty pick-up line? Why did I count every minute that passed the second you went home? Why do I feel like I'm on drugs the second you pay me the slightest bit of attention.

- OH FUCK -

- He goes through all stages of grief as he realises he's in love with you in a single second and ends up causing a blackout in his bedroom in the process.

- When he roboots, he holds his head in his hands and chugs delulu juice instantly feels absolutely terrified.

- It's humiliating for him to have such delicate feelings, let alone for someone who surely doesn't feel the same way. His experiences with real, genuine romantic love for other people have hardly ended well.

- He likely tries to distance himself from you because he's scared of the fact he is so attached to you.

- It's been ages and ages of being attached to you but he's only fully realised - or at least fully acknowledged the extent of that attachment.

- His distance from you is shortly lived however as he craves you and your presence so badly he's disgusted at himself.

- He would not be the one to confess 9 times out of 10.

- Even if it's glaringly obvious you are also into him, he copes so fucking hard he's actually delusional with the excuses he makes about it.

- He basically friendzones HIMSELF.

- You could kiss him on the cheek or hold his hands in yours or cup his face lovingly and he would be there glitching while thinking about how you must just be like this with everyone else-

- He's charismatic, charming, and can often read everyone around him like an open book - analyse their behaviours, true intentions, expressions, thoughts under it all, etc.

- But he's so terribly stupid with love.

- You need to confess to him first most likely and he'll probably still think you're bullshitting him.

- Literally finds every reason of why you aren't in love with him and tries to twist everything that way.

- Even when he's in love, he wants it to be reciprocated obviously. The thought of it not being requited as he expects is embarrassing at best.

- But, he's genuinely probably even more terrified of what that means if you do love him back.

- It's easier if you don't love him back for him because he's scared of the way you might further bring out whatever imperfections and vulnerability he's shown you already after actually being in a relationship with you.

- He craves being in a relationship with you and the security you could bring him to expose those parts of himself he desperately conceals with masks resting on masks, but also its deeply unnerving to him simultaneously.

Infuriating watching the process of this man actually realising he's in love for real, honestly 😭

[wosoimagines]

Our Day - Alessia Russo/Reader

prompt: Alessia and R get married.

words: 4637

warnings: none

(Y/N) POV

“You going to tell me what’s up with you now?”

Of course, Alessia had picked up that something was wrong with me on the drive back to our place. I swore that Alessia knew me better than myself; she certainly knew how to read me better than my family did.

But she wasn’t completely out of line. Normally, when she picked me up from the airport after I returned from a national team camp, I had stories to tell her about everything I had gotten up to either during practice or in my free time with Sonnett and Rose since they were the two that I was usually spotted hanging out with since neither Christen nor Ali had been called up in a while. But I had been completely silent the whole ride home and even as we headed inside.

I looked over my shoulder at Alessia as she shut the door behind her. I didn’t say anything to her, but I did hold my arms out to her. I melted into Alessia’s arms as soon as they wrapped around me. Nor did I hesitate to jump up to wrap my legs around Alessia’s waist as she moved her arms to hook them under my thighs so she could carry me.

“I just really want cuddles right now,” I softly said.

Alessia wasn’t one to deny me cuddles. I don’t think she had ever denied me cuddles since our freshman year at UNC.

We were in our room and in our bed under the covers in no time. I immediately curled up against Alessia. This was exactly what I needed after how the end of my trip home had turned out.

The two of us stayed there as we just took each other’s presence in. I had really missed having Alessia with me.

“Did you end up going to see your family?”

I nodded because I hadn’t actually decided if I was going to the family BBQ my parents had been hosting until that day. It had also been the first time since Alessia and I had decided to join the WSL that I had been to see my family by myself.

Alessia had quickly learned just how bad my relationship with my family was once we started dating. I had been hesitant about taking her to meet my parents because I was sure that they were going to have a lot of backhanded comments either about myself or Alessia. I hadn’t been wrong. The amount of comments they had made about me had concerned Alessia enough that she had asked me about it once they finally left after one of our home games at UNC.

I had to explain to Alessia how growing up with my younger sister meant that everything I had done was never enough in my parents’ eyes. If I had better grades than my sister? How dare I make her feel bad about herself for setting unreal expectations. I won the World Cup in 2015 just before I turned 16? I was on the bench for most of it whereas my sister had managed to make the cheerleading squad while I was gone. I got a full ride to go to the University of North Carolina between my grades and my soccer scholarship? Good because they had to save up so my sister could have a college fund just in case she wanted to go, so they weren’t going to help me if I didn’t have it covered by scholarships.

Spoiler alert: she never did want to go to college, so our parents just handed her the money for her to blow through as she pleased. None of us were entirely sure what happened to all the money, we just knew that she had already used it all up without investing it into anything.

After I won my second World Cup in 2019, my sister had been so upset that so much attention had been paid to me from so many people who knew my family that I had gotten scolded as soon as I had gotten to my parents’ house once we got back from France.

That was the first time Alessia’s family had also realized how badly my own family treated me as they had been helping Alessia settle back into the apartment that the two of us shared with Lotte. I had called Alessia crying so she had made the eight-hour drive the next day to pick me up before taking me back with her to UNC. Alessia’s parents had assured me that should I ever need somewhere to go for holidays to avoid my family that I was always welcomed at theirs.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“I hate her.”

“Eve?”

Really Alessia didn’t even have to ask who I was talking about. I nodded my head in confirmation though as I buried my face in Alessia’s neck. The blonde striker threaded one of her hands into my hair as she started to massage my scalp.

“What did she do this time?”

“She wants our wedding.”

Alessia froze at that. I had the same reaction when I found out as well.

“She wants to have the same exact wedding as us?”

I shook my head as I tried to keep the tears at bay. Alessia reached up with her hand that wasn’t threaded in my hair to wipe away the tears.

“She wants to literally take our wedding. The date, the venue, and all of our vendors. She wants us to give it to her,” I said, causing Alessia to pull me closer to her. “And my parents are taking her side. It’s supposed to be our day and they all just want us to give it up like we haven’t been planning this since the Euros.”

“It’s okay, love,” Alessia softly said. I buried my head into her neck again. “It will be our day. You think any of our teammates will let them ruin it?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if our teammates were more excited about our wedding than we were or not. Honestly, hearing Tooney talking about it with Alessia always brought a smile to my face. Not to mention that my own teammates were great at making sure that I never got too overwhelmed with all of the decisions that Alessia and I had to make. I think Sonnett had been the most excited for it outside of my team moms, but I also think it had more to do with her wanting to finally officially meet Tooney after all of the stories she heard me talk about what Tooney and Lessi got up to.

Alessia just held me as I tried to calm down. She would often softly whisper reassurances that everything would be okay, and we would have our day. I wasn’t sure how long the two of us laid there wrapped in each other’s arms, but I did know that I would always have Alessia.

“Why did Eve want to take our wedding?” Alessia asked again to break the silence.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I didn’t even know that her and John got engaged.”

I hadn’t either. It was obvious that my parents had known because they didn’t seem surprised like the rest of the family had been when Eve announced that they would be getting married soon.

“She said she wanted it before she started showing and so she wouldn’t have the stress of planning a wedding while she was pregnant,” I explained. It made no sense of how her decision would be fair to Alessia and I who had to be strategic about planning our own wedding to make sure that it wouldn’t clash with our WSL schedule or the NWSL schedule. But we had to be careful to make sure that we wouldn’t miss any callups to our respective national teams, especially considering that a huge majority of the people who would be attending were on our national teams. “As if we wouldn’t have to wait until 2026. But none of them are using their brains. As if Eve and John would get everything prepared to be married here in England? And the trips that they would need to be planned? Not to mention the amount of people who have already made arrangements to be here for our wedding.”

“John was on board with the idea?”

I understood why Alessia was asking. John and I had actually gotten along quite well. Alessia had gotten along with him as well. He was probably the only reason we had originally invited Eve and John.

“No, he seemed hesitant when Eve brought it up,” I admitted. John did seem genuinely uncomfortable when Eve had turned to me and even asked her to sit down. “He texted me later on and said that Eve had talked to him about it earlier, but he didn’t agree with asking me since they knew just how much planning it took for us to make sure that everyone we wanted to be there could. He also explained that he didn’t think Eve was going to bring it up or he would have warned me.”

“What did your parents say?”

“My dad asked why it mattered where we got married when I brought up that if we wanted to use the same venue we’d have to wait until 2026. And my mom told me that it was selfish because we weren’t expecting a child.”

“Why should it matter where Eve and John have their wedding then?”

“That’s what I said!”

“And why exactly can’t they wait until after Eve gives birth?”

“I don’t know.”

Alessia pulled me back into her side. It was all just so frustrating that it seemed like everything they were asking of me didn’t apply to my sister as well.

“You know we can always uninvite them, right? And we’ll let security know so that they won’t be allowed into the wedding.”

I knew it would be the next logical step for us. And it would have to be one for us to pursue to make sure that our own wedding didn’t get ruined because my family favored my sister more than me.

“Don’t worry, love,” Alessia said before she pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m going to make sure that no one ruins our day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh once Alessia’s head came up from the bowl that her head had been buried in. Her face was covered in the whipped cream that the bowl had been filled with, but she was the first out of the group to blow a bubble with the gum she had gotten from her bowl. She sent me a grin as I shook my head before I headed for the front door once I heard the knock. I was hoping that it was the delivery driver here with our pizzas finally.

Alessia and I had been so busy figuring out games and practicing and wrapping up the planning for our wedding that we both had forgotten to figure out what we were going to prepare for dinner for the team. It was Leah who suggested that we just order pizza for the team and neither of us were going to argue against pizza.

“How much do I owe‒”

The smile immediately dropped into a frown when I cut myself off when I realized who was on my doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I didn’t miss the way the woman winced at my tone. “Did being uninvited to the wedding not convey the message enough?”

I pushed the two further out onto the porch so that my teammates wouldn’t have to hear any of this. They were all quite aware that something serious had happened while I was visiting my family in New York, but Alessia and I had been entirely forthcoming about the situation.

“(Y/N), we need to talk to you,” Mom said.

“No, you need to leave. I have guests over.” I couldn’t believe that this kind of a move from my parents surprised me this much. “I don’t want to see either of you unless you are going to sincerely apologize for trying to hijack my wedding so that Eve could have it.”

“You need to prioritize your family,” Dad said as he pointed at me. “We all have to make sacrifices for our family. And this is a sacrifice that you need to make for your sister.”

“Oh, we all have to make sacrifices?” I asked. I shook my head as I let out a laugh at the thought. “And please tell me what kind of sacrifices that Eve has ever made for me?”

Both of my parents stood there in silence, and I wasn’t surprised. I knew that Eve had never done anything for me. I knew that Eve would never do anything for me either.

“That’s what I thought. Because she’s never done anything for this family. I never had anything growing up except for soccer and I barely had that because Eve was so jealous of my success with the one thing that I really loved that you two nearly forbad me from playing,” I pointed out as I shoved my finger into my father’s chest. I was tired of letting my family step on me. “The amount of times I had to share my birthday with her when her own is in the winter and mine in the summer? All of my presents that you would get that were for her and never me? When does it all stop being about her? Because now I have my own wedding planned out and you want me to give it to her! So, when is it going to stop?”

“(Y/N), this really isn’t fair,” Mom pleaded. She wanted to talk about being fair? To me?

The door behind me opened and I tensed as I looked over my shoulder. The last thing I needed was for it to be one of my teammates, all of which I knew could get overprotective fast. But it was just Alessia, and she could get overprotective fast but at least she knew everything that was going on.

“You’re taking too long bringing the pizzas in,” Alessia said as she wiped at the whipped cream that was still on her face. I sighed as she looked up only to freeze when she realized why it was taking me so long. “Not pizzas. Much more understandable why it’s taking so long.”

“Oi, Russo! What’s taking the missus so long?” I groaned because the last thing I wanted to add to this was our team’s card leader. “Oh, I didn’t know we were having others over.”

“Macca, just go back inside,” Alessia said.

“Why? Is everything okay out here?” Katie asked.

I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. While I normally appreciated how quick Katie was to befriend Alessia and protect the blonde striker, I really didn’t want to risk adding her to the dumpster fire of an argument that was about to happen on our porch.

“No, it’s not,” Mom said. My head whipped around as I glared at her. She hesitated as she fidgeted under the glare. “(Y/N) is being selfish and refusing to help family.”

“Oi, come one, (Y/L/N),” Katie said as she nudged me. I only groaned as pretty much the rest of our team had come to see what was happening. “You gotta help out family.”

“No, you both need to leave,” Alessia cut in. Katie’s eyebrows shot up as she glanced at Alessia. This is how I knew that Alessia hadn’t told Katie the full story yet even though they had gotten close to each other. “You both know what it is we want from you, and if you can’t give us that then you need to respect our wishes and leave us alone.”

“No, (Y/N) needs to make a sacrifice for this family because family is important,” Dad said.

“Make a sacrifice? You want me to give up my entire wedding! For a sister who has never cared about me and always been put ahead of me!” I snapped. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who knew the truth. I’d rather people pity me for how I was treated growing up than painted as a villain in front of my friends. “She doesn’t just get to take our wedding because she’s pregnant! Alessia and I have put so much time and effort into making sure our day was going to be perfect for us! We didn’t do it for Eve! We did it for us! If Eve wants to get married so badly before the baby is here, then she can take John to the courthouse and get married and then have a ceremony for everyone to go to later when it won’t be so stressful for her!”

“(Y/N), calm down,” Alessia softly said as she laid a hand on my arm.

“No! I’m tired!” I broke down as I looked at Alessia. My shoulders slumped forward because I knew that Alessia was aware of how I felt, but I had never once vocalized it to anyone. “I won’t play second fiddle to Eve anymore. Not when we are talking about one of the most important days of our lives. The fact that either of you are taking her side is insane! I know you both prefer her over me, but you know that we had to be so careful about the timing of our wedding because we are both professional players and so are all our friends and no one has the same season schedule so we had to be careful to make sure everyone could come! You both know that!”

“They’re calling you selfish because you refuse to give away your wedding?” Caitlin asked.

I didn’t even bother looking at my teammates. I knew that they would be on my side, but there had been that small voice in the back of my head telling me that none of them would actually support Alessia and I and our stance on this.

“Dude, that’s majorly fucked up,” Jen said.

“Language!”

“No! You don’t get to come here and scold my friends!” I said as I rounded on my mom. “I don’t want to see you anymore! You are not invited to the wedding! Dad is not invited to the wedding! Eve is not invited to the wedding! None of you are really my family! If you were none of you would have ever asked me to give up the day I get to celebrate my relationship with Alessia! My real family is the one I’ve gotten to build since I joined the national team in 2015. So don’t call me. Don’t text me. Leave Alessia and I alone because neither of us want you in our lives.”

We all stood in silence for a moment as my parents stared at me. I ignored the tears that were threatening to spill down my mom’s face. And how my dad’s jaw had slacked slightly. Neither of them deserved to be sad or shocked at my reaction, not after how they had treated me for so long.

“It��s time for you both to leave,” Kim spoke up after a moment. I recognized the tone she was using too. I had been on the receiving end of it enough times over the years to know that she was serious. “And for your sakes, I’d stay away.”

“Yeah, mates, come near either of them again and we’ll be the ones setting you straight,” Leah added on.

My parents stared at me for a moment longer before they both were heading down the road. It only took Alessia a second to wrap me up in her arms before she took me back inside.

I knew that we couldn’t avoid explaining everything to our teammates, but I just wanted to enjoy the night playing games and eating pizza with my friends. No, with my family. We could tell them everything tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You guys didn’t have to come.”

The two women who were sitting across from me both raised a brow. I knew that they both had their own problems to deal with.

“Alessia had to call me and Tobin just to tell me what was going on,” Christen pointed out. Had it been before this previous year, I wouldn’t have hesitated to talk about the problems I had been having to either of the women sitting with me. “You used to tell us everything and lately it seems like you haven’t been sharing anything with us.”

“You both have your own stuff going on. You don’t need my dumpster fire of a family added to that.”

“You are family to us,” Ali said. I only gave a small shrug to that. “Hey, no. The stuff you’re going through is important to us, (Y/N). We want to know what’s going on with you.”

“It isn’t fair that I burden you guys with my drama too. I mean, Christen’s trying to rehab from a fourth surgery, and you’ve been dealing with your family stuff and the whole situation.”

Christen sighed as she reached across the table to grab a hold of my hand.

“Just because we have our own stuff going on doesn’t mean you’re a burden. It’s honestly worse when you don’t tell us what’s going on. Especially since Alessia was the one to call us and tell us that we should come see you cause you were struggling.”

“It’s fine. Just my parents choosing my sister over me again. Nothing I’m not already used to.”

Christen and Ali both looked at each other. They were both well aware of the problems I had with my family considering they frequently ended up stepping up when my own parents couldn’t be bothered to help me.

“Alessia didn’t tell us much. Just said that you should be the one to explain everything to us,“ Christen added.

I only gave them a little shrug. I still hated that all of my Arsenal teammates were aware of the situation. I really didn’t want to drag more people into the depths of it all. Especially since I knew that I would get questions from my national teammates as to why my family wasn’t at the wedding anymore.

“They wanted me to give the wedding to Eve,” I admitted after we had sat in silence for a moment. “I told them no, but they came out to try and convince me again. I snapped at them in front of the team.”

“Do we need to talk to them?”

I shook my head at Ali’s suggestion. I was tired of trying to convince my parents to finally choose me over my sister. If they wouldn’t choose me for the most important day of my life, then I wouldn’t choose them anymore.

“I uninvited them to the wedding.”

“Good.”

I still felt a little guilty about it. But that was mostly because of the number of messages that I was getting from everyone in my family telling me how low it was for me to keep them all from such an important event.

“I did want to ask you two if you would take my parents spots?” Both of the older players across from me froze. “Neither of you have to. “But you both treat me like your kid more than my own parents do.”

Christen and Ali shared another look.

“(Y/N), we’d be honored,” Ali said as she reached out to grab my free hand. “You’re always going to be our kid. You moving overseas and playing for Arsenal never changed that. But if you pull any stunts with Alessia like she-who-shall-not-be-named, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“I won’t,” I assured Ali. I knew that everything had been really rough for her lately. It had been especially frustrating that I hadn’t had the time to fly out to visit her due to my schedule. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’d have to fight with every single Lioness and Gunner to get to me first. And you’re already barely holding it together chasing after all the twenty-year-olds in the NWSL.”

Ali rolled her eyes at me. I knew that Ali would make it her mission to get her hands on me first even if she was at the disadvantage of living overseas from me.

“So, what are you wanting us to do in the wedding?”

“I’d love it if you guys would walk me down the aisle. And the dances. Oh, and we’re gonna have a private ceremony where we sign the marriage license. I’d love for you two to be there, and for the wedding pictures.”

“We would love to.”

I softly smiled at that. It really did mean a lot. Alessia and I hadn’t really had much of a chance to talk about any of it yet, but I knew that she was prepared to ask her parents to skip those parts of the ceremony or if they could do the dances privately so that I wouldn’t feel left out.

“The father/daughter dance is to Wildflowers by Tom Petty. And the mother/daughter dance is to Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift,” I told them as I looked between them. “I don’t mind who dances with me for each of them. I would really like to share one of them with each of you.”

“You’ll get a dance with each of us. Promise,” Christen said as she grinned at me.

“Now, do you think Alessia would like it if I asked her to be a godmother for the kids as well?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know Ali asked me if I wanted to be a godmother?”

I couldn’t help but grin as the two of us swayed together as we watched where our friends and family were dancing in front of us.

“She might have asked if I thought you would like it.”

“I loved it.”

I gave her a soft hum of acknowledgement. I knew that she would, and I had told Ali as much. Alessia had fallen in love with Sloane and Ocean the first time she met them.

“What did you think about our day?”

“It was perfect,” I assured the blonde striker. I turned to look at her as I pulled her face to look at my own. “Everyone that I wanted to be here was. I got to dance and celebrate with the people who I consider my real family.”

“No regrets about…?” Alessia trailed off.

The two of us had been avoiding any and all talk about my biological family. We had reached out to all of our vendors as well as security to make sure that none of them could ruin our day, but today had gone off without a hitch.

“None. I think it was the first time in a long time that I’ve been happy not to have them around for such a big milestone in my life and I think it’s because it was my choice.”

While Alessia and I hadn’t made much of a mention of my biological family, it didn’t mean that my therapist hadn’t helped me through it. But I was truly at peace with the situation.

“I’m happy to hear that, darling.”

“Besides, I got to marry the love of my life.”

“There’s nothing I would trade to marry you.”

“Not even a World Cup?”

“Not even for a World Cup. Much rather would be known as the wife of (Y/N) Russo rather than have a World Cup.”

“Careful there, Russo, your WAG is showing.”

“Let it. After all, it’s our day. We’ve got everyone we want here. And we’ve got each other for the rest of our lives. Nothing can ruin it for us.”

[satyricplotter]

pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened.  for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.               

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films?  he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of  a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else.  in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

[gatitties]

Hi🤗♡.

Can I request teen!fem Reader with the (strawhat pirates & kid pirates & heart pirates)( the older version of them please in there 40 or 60).

The Reader got hurt very badly and she was in coma for month.

But of course everything was fine when the Reader wakes up and everyone is happy♡.

P.s : take your time okay :) .

─Strawhats, Kid Pirates & Heart Pirates x teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: A life-threatening attack hits you and everyone is worried about your condition

─Warnings: the characters are older, like in those 40/60 year old drawings (reference)

─ You are the little light of the group, being the youngest everyone was always watching you in battle, they had full faith in your abilities, but they would not stop being worried.

─ But you're not always in a completely accessible place, the others also have their own fights at the same time so the world seems to stop when the sound of your body hitting the ground catches Nami's attention. "Oh- No- no- my god, Chopper!"

─ Usopp, who was the one who had only been running and launching light attacks, was the first to approach your body, noticing a large pool of blood around you and a big blow on your head, he turned pale when he saw you.

─ He easily carried you in his arms and took you to a less dangerous place while Chopper rushed to finish off his own opponent, he was with you in just a couple of minutes, he could be older, but he won't stop losing his nerve when he has than treating a loved one, "A doctor! We need a doctor right away!" "You're the doctor?!" "Oh right!"

─ While the others finish as quickly as possible to know if you are okay, you are treated emergency, managing to stop the bleeding and stabilizing your vital signs.

─ The problem was that you spent one day sleeping, two, three… and it became the longest week for the entire crew.

─ Everyone was impatient and uneasy, they would not forgive themselves if something happened to you, they knew that you would wake up sooner or later, they would just wait for you.

─ Chopper checks on you daily, Sanji puts a glass of fresh water on the nightstand every day in case you wake up and no one is there at that moment, Luffy and Usopp will sit down to play any board game to keep you company, Zoro will take some occasional nap on the floor (chopper puts some pillows and blankets there because age doesn't forgive back pain), Nami and Robin will talk to you as if you were gossiping with them on a normal day, Brook will sing something at night so that in your sleep better, Jinbe and Franky stop by from time to time to see if you're awake.

─ Everyone's spirits fade when the second week passes with no indication that you will wake up and they think the worst, however they cling to the fact that your condition is stable, you are healthy and you are much younger than them.

─ A month later, Luffy had fallen asleep resting his hand on your shoulder, he didn't give you time to open your eyes and you already had your captain hugging you. "Hey, it's been a while, I don't even sleep that much after a good meal!"

─ You laughed confused because you obviously didn't know how long you had been out, and it didn't take long for the others to find out, you were surrounded in a big hug although Chopper scolded everyone because he still had to do one last check before letting you walk freely.

─ This team fights with everything it has and you were not going to be less, although much younger, you were much more energetic than that whole group of old men, as you affectionately nicknamed them since they sometimes called you kiddo or child.

─ The problem is that sometimes you were somewhat impulsive, and that's why you attacked too quickly. Kid smiled, seeing himself reflected in your recklessness, although he scolded you. "Don't get ahead, these guys aren't as weak as they seem."

─ You turned a deaf ear since you had advanced well in the attack, but in an instant everything had gone black for you, a fatal blow to the abdomen left you completely out of combat.

─ "Oh fuck, the kiddo is hurt, shit- like, really screwed up, needs medical attention right away!" Heat is the one closest to you and the one in charge of protecting you until the bloodbath ends, which they do more quickly.

─ Killer knows that you won't wake up today because when they sewed the wound you didn't wake up because of the pain, he knew that you were very complaining about pain of any kind despite being a teenager.

─ The tension grows as the days go by, uncertainty because you don't wake up to joke that you've knocked down more guys, they are mentally torturing themselves even though they don't let it be seen.

─ Wire will talk to you to tell you all the gossip you miss, Killer will stop by every morning before starting the day hoping to see that you are standing, Heat will sleep next to you some days and Kid will not visit as often because he is venting his discomfort in his workshop.

─ Kid has been in a worse mood the last few weeks because you were the person with the smallest hands and he needed your help with some screws that were too small, which delayed his project, he missed your annoying little presence making jokes about his old age .

─ Killer had full faith that you would wake up sooner or later because they had treated you on time, it just made him nervous not knowing when it would be, "I will make your favorite food if you wake up today…" he always said in the hope that the food would open your eyes.

─ A month later when everyone got used to the lack of a gremlin running from one place to another (they didn't get used to it, that's what they want to think), you woke up, there was no one there at that moment so you got rid of all the cables, feeling good.

─ "Hey child- holy shit! you're awake, hey- what are you doing up?! You need to get checked before you walk around again" "I'm fresh as a lettuce captain! I can't say the same for you… but uh-" "I'm glad to see you're okay." He put his only arm over your shoulder and squeezed you like in a wrestling hold, roughly rubbing your head.

─ They used you as an excuse to have a party, although you didn't care much because you also celebrated and ate your favorite food.

─ Law was going to kill Shachi and Penguin because you got hurt on a mission with them, you took several hits, which exhausted you, and what you thought would be a nap back on the submarine ended up being something worse.

─ They tried to keep you awake while they used what Law had taught them about minimal care, but you couldn't continue.

─ They didn't even set foot in the submarine and you were already in a bed in the infirmary, the smell of blood gave away your condition, "I want a report on what happened and the area of the body that was most beaten, we will talk about your punishment later", both swallowed, knowing that their captain did not like to see his comrades injured but above all, to see someone with so much life ahead of them injured.

─ You are treated immediately and quickly, Law knows that you will not wake up for at least a week due to the blows and your condition, but you would get out of this, that does not prevent him from feeling an emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

─ Bepo will be in your room most of the time, reading out loud so that according to him, you wouldn't get bored in your dreams, Shachi and Penguin got some free time (because they were forced to clean the entire submarine until it shined) to apologize to you.

─ Ikakku stopped by from time to time to check your vital signs and tell you some things that had been happening.

─ Even though they knew you would wake up, not knowing when the moment would be made the entire crew impatient, although Law detected some changes in your condition after a month, he knew when you would finally open your eyes, which reassured him.

─ "What the hell…?" You mumbled when you woke up seeing that your arms and legs were tied, "I'm glad to see you awake" "How are you glad if I'm tied to a bed? Oh don't tell me, have you finally lost your mind and going to dissect me?" He sighed "Security, I knew you were going to get up as soon as you woke up and I want to do one last check" "Sure…"

─ Everyone found out later because you started screaming as if you were being tortured just because had to supply something with a syringe, at least you prolonged your hug with Bepo because of that.

─ Shachi and Penguin apologized to you again, but you downplayed it, right now what mattered most to you was having a good meal, you were hungry and Ikkaku had the solution to all your problems.

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

Strap in if you dare, I’m going to talk about Riko.

Yes, he is a Bad Person. Nothing I’m about to say counters that. However… evil isn’t always so obvious as to dress in black and torture everyone you love. Evil is insidious and nuanced - it can creep in when you aren’t expecting it and have no defences. We’ve been given this incredibly complex and interesting example of it, and we’ve been given it for a reason. Riko is a character worth trying to understand.

Could Riko ever have been saved, and if so what would it have taken? What if he’d been able to follow the Fox path to redemption instead of the Ravens to perdition?

Except both Foxes AND Ravens were traumatised… the thing that ruined Riko was power. Lincoln said it: “nearly all men can stand adversity but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” Who was Riko without power? It’s hard to see.

So I’m fascinated by a different question - how did Riko see Riko?

We know how the Foxes saw him: a low-functioning sociopath with zero coping skills and the personality of a cat trapped in a wall cavity. Presumably that’s not how he saw himself. What kind of headcannon did he construct for himself, what was his own personal mythology?

We know he wanted his father’s approval, he wanted to be number one. We know how badly he dealt with those desires being thwarted.

I know how it feels to be an abandoned child. You feel like the outer edges of a person, with this gaping hole in the centre. It’s not just that you lost a loved one, it’s - how can I say it - it’s like the clasp that lets you hold on to people has been torn out too. Everyone will leave now, and you know it.

(I didn’t cope by turning my bedroom into Abu Ghraib, though.)

It’s the worst of both worlds. His father is far enough away to cause that gaping wound, yet not sufficiently gone for it to ever close over and heal.

But… despite his impossible situation, Riko wasn’t withdrawing into himself. Resentment ate away at him and he liked doing side-projects of revenge, but it was hope driving him on. I see Riko as someone with a very hot flame in them, someone determined to succeed (like Neil). He was driven, even if the goal he chased so eagerly was an illusion. I think he saw his situation as a challenge, an opportunity to prove himself and eventually take his rightful place at his father’s side (surely that’s what Kengo really meant, surely this was a test, a test he can pass if he just wins one more time...)

Imagine something like… the second son of a Roman emperor, sent to some far-off outpost to get him out of the way subdue rebel tribes. A chance to make a name for himself, an opportunity to create an elite unit where violence and skill are everything, where winning is everything. A challenge he accepts with savage excitement.

And the world views them with the kind of awe once reserved for ancient Sparta. Unsurpassed warriors, impossibly focussed. Yes, they endure conditions no one else could even consider but they always win, and everyone loves winners. They are the legends of legends. Surely his father will see.

Kevin was his Lancelot, his shining sword, his right hand. Kevin added to Riko’s status, assured him he must be a hero if he had such a splendid champion at his side.

But Kevin is beautiful, so perhaps Riko’s feelings were more complicated than that, perhaps they were feelings he couldn’t admit he had. He could still work those feelings into the overall picture though… it’s all part of Kevin being his beloved champion.

Until the champion started edging him out of his own story and had to be sacrificed. A necessary sacrifice, but losing Kevin struck a huge blow to the mythology Riko built up about himself. He could no longer look in the mirror, side by side, and see Kevin’s glory (and, yes, Kevin’s dad) reflected back as though it belonged to him too.

Despite this Riko finds a way to keep winning, even without his champion. Surely that is even more impressive? Can his father see that?

Still no response. In the story Riko constructs for himself his father does no wrong, so this towering rage he feels has to crash down on someone else. He tells himself he is punishing his troops for daring to be unworthy.

Then there is Jean, someone from a caste so low as to be unclean, even subnormal, someone it would hurt Riko’s prestige to treat with any kind of respect. But Jean is also beautiful, and those feelings can’t be worked into the myth. Their outlet is the darkness behind closed doors, along with all the other feelings that don’t fit the story of the hero.

Harming his people, his intimate possessions, was Riko’s coping mechanism for rejection and humiliation the way self-harm in many forms is to many others. (Are you hearing me if I say hurting yourself is hurting your own Perfect Court, and there is collateral damage even if you think it’s just you, because people love you and suffer because of it? Are you hearing me if I say stop being Riko to yourself?)

And maybe his enjoyment of that cruelty was, deep down, a form of denial that the cruelty arose from anguish. ‘No I’m not upset, I’m not a loser, I’m in control, I’m doing this because I like it…’ Maybe even to the point where rendition becomes sexual.

But it’s starting to unravel. He’s lost his only friend and can no longer unleash his mounting frustrations on Jean the way he wants to; he’s running out of pieces for his board.

Then he finds the fugitive his family were chasing for so long. This is his big chance. He’ll have a brand new champion for his stable or a valuable offering to please his father, he wins either way.

He captures this feral child who tells him there is no empty throne waiting by the side of the emperor, Kengo never mentions his son’s name, Riko is nothing more than a joke in that far-off capital. So much scorn in those words that the carefully constructed mythology withers before it.

First the would-be rook took the queen, then the wild-card knight escapes again, and now the whipping boy / concubine / bishop is taken by a girl with a cross around her neck. The king has lost all his men… because that’s your REAL story, isn’t it: everyone leaves you.

And then… Kengo dies.

Yes, Riko is a Bad Person. No, I do not like him. But Nora gave us two boys who met their brother for the first time, two boys who cried out their brother’s name only to see their hopes shattered. And in that moment they were one, so I cannot dismiss this monstrous, horrible abomination no matter how hard I try.

I can however dismiss anyone who says Nora is not a goddess of writing.