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

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

request: can you write one where the sister is newly 21 so she’s at the bar but she’s without her brothers because she decided to stop there last minute just for a drink. She ends up getting drugged and she rushes to the bathroom and calls her brothers for help. The guy ends up breaking the door down but before anything happens really, Sam and Dean rush in and take care of it. The drug is tripping her out and she throws up outside too. I know you’ve already kind of done these stories but I thought a mix of them box could be good. I don’t know I thought this could be an interesting story.

A/N: Hi!! I hope you like this! Even if I’ve already written something I’ll continue to write more if you request them— I don’t mind! This was a great request. Requests are always open!

Warnings- drugs/roofies, attempted SA,

Sam and Dean Winchester x sister!Reader

The neon lights of the bar buzzed faintly above you, flickering like the last remnants of the day’s energy. It was crowded, loud, the kind of place where people went to forget. You weren’t here for that—just trying to blow off some steam after the last hunt. But now, as you sat on a barstool, sipping your drink and scanning the room, everything felt off. The glass in your hand was suddenly heavier than you remembered, and your vision, sharp a moment ago, now felt blurry around the edges.

Focus, you told yourself. You needed to focus. But it was like someone had turned the volume down on the world, muffling the voices around you, the laughter, the clinking of glasses. Everything was... distant.

The man who had been sitting next to you moments ago was now gone, his seat empty. You didn’t even remember him leaving. That’s when you started to feel it—the overwhelming sense that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t the alcohol; it wasn’t the atmosphere. It was the weird, creepy sensation crawling under your skin, like a thousand invisible fingers skittering across your arms. Your hands were trembling now, and you tried to steady them against the bar, but it was no use. You were suddenly very aware of how heavy your eyelids felt.

The bathroom.

You needed to get to the bathroom. Now.

You lurched from your seat, your legs unsteady beneath you, and staggered across the room. Everything seemed to sway around you, like the world had gone drunk on its own axis. The door to the bathroom felt miles away, but somehow, you made it, your palm flat against the cool metal as you pushed it open. Slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.

Inside, the bathroom was a small, dimly lit space. The fluorescent lights flickered above, casting an eerie glow on the tiles. Your back was against the door before you stumbled forward, gripping the sink tightly as the nausea hit, a wave of dizziness so intense it felt like the floor might just swallow you whole.

What the hell was happening?

The panic started to creep in, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. Your heart thudded in your chest like a drumbeat, faster and faster, and your hands were shaking so badly you could barely hold onto the edge of the sink.

You didn’t know what was happening to you, but you knew it wasn’t normal. You knew you weren’t just drunk. This felt like something else. Something... worse.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

Your mind started to race—too many thoughts at once, too many wrong things. Your vision swam in and out of focus, the edges of the room blurring and then snapping back into clarity, only to fade again. A sick, icy dread curled in your stomach as you realized: you weren’t going to be able to get out of here. You were losing control.

No. No, I can’t pass out here. I can’t—

You fumbled for your phone in your pocket, your fingers slipping against the smooth screen. It took everything you had to unlock it and call the one number you knew could help you, the one person who could always save you.

Dean.

You dialed his number, your heart pounding so loud you thought it might drown out the ringtone. The phone rang once, twice, before it clicked, and his voice came through, sharp and worried.

“(Y/N), what’s up?” Dean’s voice was still upbeat, though you could tell he was trying to be casual, not knowing that everything inside of you was falling apart.

“D-Dean?” you stammered, struggling to get the words out as your chest tightened. You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, your voice trembling, but you couldn’t help it. “I... I... I don’t know what’s happening. Something’s wrong, Dean... I... I think I’m... I don’t know... I think I’m gonna pass out or something.”

“Hey, hey, (Y/N), what’s going on? What’s happening?” Dean’s voice was sharp, laced with panic and urgency. “Where are you? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Dean… I don’t know, I don’t know,” you gasped, your words slurring and getting caught in your throat. The spinning was getting worse. The walls of the bathroom felt like they were closing in on you. “I... I’m not okay. I... I don’t know… I don’t know what’s happening, I... everything’s spinning.” The words tangled in your mouth, and you barely recognized your own voice.

“Where are you?” Dean demanded, his tone growing frantic. “What do you mean you’re not okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I’m... in the bar,” you stuttered, gasping for breath between every word. “I don’t... I don’t know what’s going on, I feel... I feel dizzy, Dean, I feel so weird. I’m... I’m so scared...”

Dean’s voice faltered for a second, then snapped back, tighter, sharper. “Sweetheart, what do you mean? Where are you in the bar? Who are you with? Did someone...”

Your heart lurched, the word hanging in the air like a physical weight, but you couldn’t process it fully. "I... I don’t know... I don’t know who I was with..." You gasped, fighting against the overwhelming fog. “I feel like... everything is moving too fast… like... like I’m not here… I don’t know… I don’t know, Dean... I don’t know what’s happening...”

“Did someone drug you?” Dean’s voice was suddenly sharp, his words clipped, the panic now hitting his voice with force. “(Y/N), did someone drug you??”

His words made your chest tighten, but something inside of you clicked, like a terrible realization. You weren’t just confused. You weren’t just dizzy. Something wasn’t right. You weren’t in control of your own body, your mind was slipping away from you, and the terror of that realization set your heart racing.

“Wh-what?" Your head felt like it was swimming in an endless fog, and you couldn’t make sense of the words he was saying. “No... No, I’ve never done drugs... What... what do you mean?” You stammered disoriented.

“Goddammit,” Dean cursed, his voice breaking as he pieced together the worst possible scenario. “Someone drugged you, slipped you something in your drink. I’m coming, I’m coming to get you, kid. Stay with me.” Dean’s heart broke as he heard the confusion in your voice. He knew, though. He knew exactly what was happening to you. Someone had slipped something into your drink, and you were paying the price for it now. It made his blood boil, but right now, all that mattered was getting to you, making sure you were safe.

“But… but I’ve never done drugs before.” You blinked at the confusion clouding your vision, trying to make sense of what was happening to you.

"I know you’ve never done drugs before, I know sweetheart, I know. Someone did this to you. Someone put something in your drink, okay? You’re gonna be alright though, I’m coming. Stay with me.” He said gently, trying to explain what was happening to you, though the pain in his voice was evident.

“I... no... I don’t... I don’t understand…Why...” You were gasping for breath, your words slurring more and more, the confusion twisting in your mind. “I don’t understand, Dean... I don’t know... What... what’s happening to me?”

Dean clenched the steering wheel in his car, his knuckles white as his heart pounded painfully in his chest. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay. I’m on my way. I need you to just stay calm for me, alright? We’re gonna get you out of there. Just stay with me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as the panic started to swell inside of you. You were slipping. You were fading. You could feel it, a terrible, unrelenting fog in your mind, and the thought of losing control—of passing out—sent a new wave of fear crashing into you.

“I... I don’t want to… I don’t want to pass out, Dean! Is… is someone going to hurt me.” You gasped, the words tumbling out in a frantic, terrified rush. Dean clenched his jaw knowing exactly why someone roofied you, but he couldn’t instill that fear in you. “Hey! No…No! No one’s going to hurt you. I’m coming to get you, I’m coming.” But your mind already connected the dots which spiraled you into a deeper panic. “What if... what if I can’t... what if someone comes in... I can’t... I can’t stop them… I can’t fight them, I... I’m not strong enough! What if—what if something happens to me?”

Dean’s heart cracked at the sound of your voice, so broken and terrified. He was practically yelling into the phone now, his voice rising with frustration, desperation, and worry. “(Y/N), listen to me. You’re locked in the bathroom, alright? No one can get to you. No one can hurt you. You just stay away from the door. You’re gonna be fine. I swear to God you’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m scared, Dean,” you whispered, so softly now that it barely made it through the receiver.

"I know, sweetheart," Dean’s voice cracked, like it was breaking apart at the seams. "I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Just stay with me. We’re almost there. Just hold on."

Your body was shutting down, your mind was swimming, and you couldn’t fight it anymore. You didn’t know if you could hold on, didn’t know if you could stay awake.

Everything was starting to fade.

You gasped again, your breath hitching. "I can't...

“I-I'm gonna-pass out, Dean."

“Stay awake, (Y/N). Don’t you dare let it pull you under,” Dean’s voice cracked as he gripped the steering wheel harder, driving faster, his own panic starting to bleed through.

Suddenly, you heard muffled sound in the background, a voice from the phone, sharper and more insistent. "Dean, give me the phone," Sam barked. "Give me the damn phone."

Dean grunted, clearly panicked, but he handed it over. Sam's voice cracked through the phone almost immediately, low and commanding, but so full of fear that you could hear it even through your confusion…

Sam immediately spoke into the phone, his voice soft and gentle, trying to ground you. “(Y/N), hey, it’s Sam. I’m here. Just... just breathe for me, okay?”

“Sam?” Your voice was thin, confused. “What’s happening? Why am I... What’s wrong with me?”

Sam’s heart sank hearing the confusion and panic in your voice. “You’re going to be okay. We’re coming to get you, okay? You’re gonna be alright. Just stay calm. I’m right here.”

You whimpered, your head spinning uncontrollably. “I’m so scared, Sammy... What if someone gets in? What if they hurt me? I don’t know what they want...” Your voice trailed off into another sob, and the fear that clenched your heart was almost suffocating.

Sam's voice softened, trying to soothe you as much as possible. “You’re safe, (Y/N), you’re locked in the bathroom. No one’s getting in. Okay? You just stay away from the door, alright? Don’t open it. Don’t even get near it. We’re almost there. Just stay with me. You’re safe.”

You could barely understand his words, the fog thickening, but you clung to them, trying to focus on the sound of his voice. The air was too thick, the silence too loud, and the weight in your chest was unbearable.

The sound of the door rattling suddenly shattered your fragile grasp on reality. The harsh knocking echoed through the room, sending your heart into overdrive.

“Sammy?” you whispered, barely able to speak. “Is that you? Is that you at the door?”

Sam’s stomach dropped at the sound. He could hear the panic in your voice, and he knew the door was no longer just a symbol of safety—it was a threat now.

“No, don’t open the door, (Y/N),” Sam yelled into the phone, his voice filled with panic. “Stay away from the door, alright? Don’t let anyone in!”

You could barely process his words, the terror drowning you. “It’s... it’s not you, Sammy... It’s not you... Someone’s trying to get in...”

The door rattled again, and this time, it sounded even more forceful. The fear was rising, thick and suffocating, like a cold hand closing around your throat. “No, no, no... I can’t... I can’t stop them...”

Sam shouted, his voice almost breaking, “we’re almost there, (Y/N), we’re coming!”

Another loud bang came at the door, the sound sharp and menacing, and your blood ran cold. Your eyes darted to the door, fear overtaking every inch of you.

“Stay on the phone!” Sam was shouting now, but the fear in your voice drowned out everything. “We’re coming, we’re almost there!”

Your body trembled violently, your knees buckling, and you fell against the wall as your thoughts scattered. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the terror from overtaking you. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to fight, but you couldn’t.

“I can’t... I can’t...” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I’m with you, (Y/N),” Sam’s voice came through, shaky but full of determination. “We’re almost there. Just stay with me, alright? Just stay awake, stay alert.”

Your eyes were starting to close, the weight of exhaustion pressing on your eyelids. But you couldn't let it happen. You couldn’t.

The banging continued, louder now, but through it, you clung to Sam’s voice, the only thing grounding you. You were barely hanging on and as you whispered one last plea for them to hurry, the door rattled again, louder now, the metal handle shaking as whoever was on the other side tried again. It sounded like they were getting closer, breaking through the frame with each hit. They were coming in.

“NO!” You screamed, struggling to pull yourself up from the cold floor, your hands shaking as you tried to steady yourself. The room spun even harder, your body swaying, vision blurring.

Then, with a final crash, the door gave way. The lock snapped, and the door swung open with a jarring screech, revealing the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. A stranger, tall and looming, his face partially obscured by shadows. His footsteps echoed loudly in the small, tiled room as he took a step forward, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. The fear in your chest exploded into pure, raw terror.

“No, no, no!” you whimpered, backing up against the wall as he stepped closer, your breath coming in shallow, frantic gasps. “Please... please... don’t! Please...”

Your words slurred, each one harder to get out, as the drug in your system weighed you down. You could feel the darkness pressing in on the edges of your vision, your mind trying to shut off, but the terror was still there, an open wound in your chest. You tried to scream, tried to get up, but you were too weak.

“Shhh... It’s okay,” the man cooed, his voice a low, mocking whisper as he took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with a sick amusement. “You don’t need to be scared...“

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Your brain barely registered the cruelty of it as he approached, his shadow casting over you like a weight you couldn’t escape.

“No... No... please...” You begged, your voice barely above a whisper, your body trembling uncontrollably. Your hand flailed around the bathroom floor, searching for something, anything to defend yourself with, but your fingers couldn’t grip anything. Every time you tried to move, you felt weaker, your body refusing to obey your commands.

The man grinned, a cruel smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “No one’s going to save you, sweetheart. You’re mine now. Just let go, it’ll be over soon.”

You couldn’t breathe, your chest tight as the fear suffocated you. You could feel the blackness creeping in again, and you knew—if you let go, if you passed out... he would have you. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself, to scream, to fight. Your limbs were too heavy, and all you could do was whimper.

“No! No, please!” You choked out, unable to move. The door had fallen open behind him, the sound of your brothers’ desperate voices rang through the air and with everything you had left, you screamed, as if your voice could somehow reach your brothers, stop him from getting any closer. But it was a weak cry, shaky and broken, too afraid to even believe it would be enough.

“Get the fuck off of her!”

Dean’s voice, filled with fury and rage, cut through the room like a sword.

In an instant, Dean was on him, shoving the man away from you with a brutal force that sent him stumbling backward. Your body, still weak and trembling from the drugs, barely reacted, but Dean's presence was enough to anchor you to the reality of the situation.

"I’ll fucking kill you!" Dean growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He charged, fists flying as the man tried to regain his balance. The sound of bones hitting flesh was unmistakable—loud, sickening, and filled with the fury that only Dean Winchester could channel when someone dared threaten his family.

Suddenly, Sam’s familiar face came into view, his expression tight with worry. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, his voice gentle but urgent, like he was trying to anchor you to the here and now. His hands, warm and steady, cradled your face, lifting it slightly so he could meet your gaze, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin as if to remind you he was there. His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of the haze that the drugs might’ve left behind, any sign that your focus was slipping away from him. "You're okay. You're safe, I promise. I’m right here with you, okay? We’ve got you. We won’t let anything happen to you."

His words were steady and warm, like a lifeline, but your body was betraying you. The drug had sunk deep into your system, and it was wreaking havoc in every muscle, every nerve, sending waves of strange sensations through you. Your chest tightened, and it felt like there was a weight pressing down on your lungs. You couldn’t breathe deep enough, and each shallow gasp only made it worse. Every breath you tried to take felt like it was being stolen from you. Your hands—your fingers—felt stiff and unresponsive, curling on their own, twitching with spasms.

“Sam...” you barely whispered, but your voice was weak, trembling, like it wasn’t your own. “I feel so weird…”

“I know, (Y/N), I know.” Sam said, his voice thick with emotion but full of that calm authority that only made you trust him more. His large hands were on your arms, trying to hold you steady, to remind you that you were here, you were real, you were safe. But your body wouldn’t stop jerking, twitching violently, like the drug was seizing control of your muscles. Your back arched involuntarily, and a choked sob bubbled in your throat.

The panic set in deeper. Your arms and legs felt like they belonged to someone else—heavy, uncooperative. You tried to move, but your body refused. The dizziness spun in your head, and the world around you was a blur. You felt like you were drowning in it. “Sam... Sam, I can’t...”

His grip tightened on you, anchoring you to him, and you could feel his breath close to your ear, his voice softer now but no less urgent. “Listen to me, (Y/N). I’m right here. I need you to stay with me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. The drug... it’s coursing through you right now, your body’s trying to fight it, alright? Stay with me. Stay awake.”

His voice cracked with raw emotion, but it didn’t waver. He was so present, so solid in this moment, even as your body continued to react violently. You jerked again, the spasms making you gasp for air as you felt like your muscles were locking into place. You didn’t have control over your own body. The feeling of being completely out of control overwhelmed you. You could feel your head spinning, your vision blurring more with each second, and that constant pressure on your chest that made it harder and harder to stay conscious.

“Just breathe with me, (Y/N),” Sam said, his voice steady, but his hands shook slightly as they gripped you. His hand moved to your back, rubbing it slowly, trying to comfort you through the chaos, but your body was betraying you in every way imaginable. The drug was taking hold, seizing control of your senses, your thoughts—your every nerve. You could feel it as your heart raced, pounding violently in your chest, like it was trying to break free from your ribcage. Sweat was pouring down your face, your skin slick and clammy, and your limbs felt like they were no longer your own—jerking and twitching uncontrollably.

You wanted to scream, wanted to beg Sam to make it stop, but your mouth wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t obey, wouldn’t form the words. Your chest heaved with each shallow breath, but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough to pull you from the panic. Every time you tried to breathe, the air felt too thick, too far away. Your vision blurred, and the edges of the room warped and wavered.

And Sam… Sam could see it all in your eyes. The terror. He saw you struggling, saw the panic flashing in your gaze, and it crushed him. You could hear the sound of Sam’s voice rising, frustration and fear mixing in with his calm words. “What the hell did you give her?!” He suddenly screamed, his voice cutting through the room, filled with a ferocity that made you feel like it was cutting through the air itself.

He wasn’t just speaking to you anymore. The sound of his fury—his absolute protective rage—was directed at the man who had done this to you. You could feel it in the tension in his grip, in the way his hands clenched around you, holding you like you were the most important thing in the world.

But despite Sam’s rage, he never broke his focus on you. He didn’t leave you, not for a second. “Okay,” Sam said, taking a breath as if to calm himself. “Okay. I know you’re scared, I know. I need you to focus on me, alright?” Sam continued, his voice now a little softer again as his thumb stroked across your cheek, trying to soothe you through the convulsions rattling your body. “Your heart’s racing, I know. That’s the drug. That tightness in your chest? It’s normal right now. Your body’s in shock. It’s trying to fight the drug’s effects, but you’re going to be okay, trust me.”

The sensation of weightlessness was threatening to pull you under, and your body jerked again, making you gasp for air. But Sam was right there. His hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks gently but with purpose, forcing you to look at him, to focus on him, despite how blurry everything seemed.

"Don’t you dare close your eyes, okay?"

Your chest felt like it was about to explode, the spasms were making you writhe in his arms, but Sam stayed with you—his voice still a tether in the madness, guiding you through each second. Even through his own anger, his pain, his desperation—he was there for you, unwavering.

The sound of Dean’s voice in the background seemed muffled now, lost in the whirlwind of sensations, but Sam’s presence was constant.

He didn’t wait for you to reply—didn’t need to. He could see the way you were struggling just to breathe, could see the fear and confusion in your eyes. You were scared, but you didn’t need words to tell him that. His voice didn’t falter once as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and helped you stand. Your legs were unsteady, like they weren’t yours anymore, but he held you up—held you close as he guided you toward the door.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” Sam murmured, his arm supporting you as you stumbled forward. The world outside was a blur, the lights of the bar flashing in your peripheral vision. Your body was shaking with each step, still fighting against the drug, but Sam was there. Always there.

As soon as the cold night air hit your skin, the nausea hit you like a freight train. Your stomach twisted violently, and before you could do anything, the pressure built up—too fast, too strong—and you dropped to your knees, your body convulsing with a wave of sickness.

“Let it out,” Sam said immediately, his voice firm but full of empathy, the knowledge of what was happening to you clear in every word. “It’s okay, just let it out, (Y/N). You’re okay. Your body’s fighting the drug. You’re fighting it, alright? Just breathe. Let it out. You’re gonna feel better. I promise.”

Your body lurched forward as you threw up, everything inside you coming up in violent waves. You felt weak—so weak—your hands barely able to hold yourself up as your body continued to heave. The dizziness was making everything spin, but Sam was right there, his hand on your back, steadying you. His voice was a constant hum in the background, soothing, telling you that it was okay, that you were okay.

“That’s it, just let it out,” Sam said again, his hand still pressing gently on your back, keeping you grounded, keeping you steady as you threw up, as your body trembled violently. He was talking to you like he knew exactly what you needed, guiding you through the worst of it. “You’re okay, you’re okay, just keep breathing. Your body’s doing what it needs to. You’re okay.”

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but your strength was drained, your energy zapped, and your body finally stopped heaving, leaving you weak and trembling on the cold pavement. You were on your hands and knees, and the nausea still clung to you, but Sam didn’t let go—not even for a second.

And just as you started to collapse, your body exhausted from everything, Sam’s hands were there. He caught you effortlessly, pulling you into his chest as you slumped, your head falling against his shoulder.

“I got you,” Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re alright. You’re alright, (Y/N). I’ve got you.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you up, keeping you from crumpling to the ground. You could feel his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, and even though you still felt weak, you weren’t alone.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft now, a gentle comfort that you clung to. “You’re gonna make it through this. I’m right here. We’re gonna get you through it.” He kept you safe, kept you calm, as Dean took care of the man that attempted to do the worse to you.

His punches were swift and relentless, each one more vicious than the last. The man staggered back, but Dean wasn’t about to give him a chance to recover. With a final, savage swing, he sent the man crashing into the bathroom sink, the impact rattling the entire room.

Dean’s voice, sharp and full of anger as he finished dealing with the man who had dared to hurt you. “You don't even know how lucky you are that I don't have more time," he growled. "Stay down, or you won’t get up again." The stranger groaned, blood dripping from his busted lip, but he wasn’t getting back up—not for a while.

Dean didn’t even look at the man as he stepped over him, walking out of the bathroom and out of the bar. His face softened just a fraction as he saw you trembling in Sam’s arms, his voice turning gentle despite the fire still burning in his eyes. “(Y/N), hey... It’s Dean. We’re getting you out of here. Just hold on for me, alright?”

You could barely breathe, your body still too weak to function properly, but just hearing him calmed the chaos in your mind.

“Stay with us, okay? Stay with us, don’t fall asleep. We’re here. We won’t let anything happen to you.” He said as he rushed to open the car door while Sam held you up, but you could feel yourself slipping.

“No,” you whispered weakly, your hand gripping Sam’s jacket as you struggled to stay awake. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Sam said, his voice steady and warm. “I’m right here, and so is Dean. We’re getting you to the car. Just breathe. You’re safe.”

The door slammed shut behind you as Sam climbed into the car, cradling your trembling form in his lap. Dean slid into the front seat, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he started the engine.

“You’re safe, (Y/N),” Sam murmured, wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. “We’ve got you. We’re not letting go. Not ever.”

You were fading, the world slipping away as the last of your strength drained from you. But Sam was right there, holding you, comforting you.

“We’ve got you,” Dean added, his voice thick with emotion as he drove. “We’re not going anywhere.”

And even though you could barely hold on to consciousness, those words were enough. You weren't alone anymore. You had your brothers. And you would be safe.

[10thmusemoon]

Title for the ask game!

"Good Graces"

lmao prim why does this feel like I'm seeing beyonce at the grocery store??? i love your fics!

okay hm content warning for angst, major character death, bad end

Shenbros that grow up alongside YQY and that somehow makes everything worse.

YQY still makes the unforgivable mistake of saving Shi Wu, Shen Jiu still steps in, but now he has Shen Yuan attached to him too. The two get taken into the Qiu household, QJL still develops an obsession with torturing Shen Jiu but now uses Shen Yuan as collateral.. If he doesn't behave, if he isn't perfect, well then, QJL will just see how his little brother does instead. Throughout this all, the two grow even closer, SJ doesn't let the resentment fester because SY is the only thing he still has, the only thing that keeps his sane. SY bandages his wounds in the night, holds him close, brings him into QHT's circle of safety with clever words whenever possible. He is the only good thing in the world now that Qi-ge is gone. They just need to wait for him to come back, and things will be fine.

And surprisingly, he does! This universe smiles down on SJ for once and shows him mercy. YQY looks like a prince standing behind his shizun, regal in his fine robes, and handsome in the way that well fed nobles can be. SJ tries to focus on the negotiations, but his eyes keep drawing back him yqy's face, awe and hunger at war. It's because of this that he misses the way SY goes stiff, head swiveling between the cultivators in silently growing horror.

The negotiations are easier than SJ ever thought they would be, his and SY's lives are traded from one hand to another like any dirty coin. The only difference being now they are indentured servants, their contracts having an actual time limit, the conditions of which only require them to be CQMS disciples until YQY becomes the new peak lord.

Which is...fine. More than fine, even! SJ is convinced that if he really wanted to, he could convince YQY to runaway with them afterwards. When he tells this to SY he's shocked by his insistent refusal.

"No, we have to stay at CQMS. No matter what."

Whatever.

For 15 solid years, SJ's life is good. He stakes his claim on YQY as soon as he realizes there are people interested in him, shamelessly making himself at home by his side. SJ excels at QJP, determined to be the one YQY can rely on. If SY insists on staying at CQMS, then SY will just have to make it theirs.

(years down the line is experiences gleeful joy at seeing people's face twist when it's revealed he's yqy's spouse.)

SY in all of this, is living in crisis mode! His brother is the scum villain and is going to get qi-ge killed! Why the FUCK did Airplane never mention any of this!!??? No matter how badly he wants to fuck off to the beast peak, he doesn't! He stays firmly on QJP, taking on all the duties that deal with the new disciples to keep them as far as fuck as he can from Shen Jiu's clutches!! When YQY and SJ finally ascend as peak lords, naturally he continues handling any responsibilities of SJ's that deal with one-on-one contact with kids. And honestly? That's the ideal! SY's cultivation has never been as strong as SJ's, he's not the one meant to be the protagonists' narrative foil after all! He can coast by on teaching the fundamentals!

In SJ's eyes, SY continues to be his filial younger brother, taking on the burden of the tasks SJ hates. He spoils him, when possible, in the way only SY and YQY ever seem to understand. They are the only two good things that have been and always will be his. He doesn't need anyone else.

And then NYY arrives, and no one is more surprised than he is that he looks forward to teaching her the guqin, delights in how quickly she picks up the erhu. He doesn't understand why SY looms nervously whenever she's near, is irritated when he starts to suspect why. It's their first huge blow up.

And then the boy arrives.

He can't explain why this particular disciple is so repulsive. Why the dirt seems to stick to him, no matter how clean he is. Filthy fingerprints on grasping hands. Wretched thing has a certain look in his eye, a hunger SJ knows will be ruinous, insatiable. Just the way he trails after SY is enough to make him spit! And SY has always been a soft-hearted idiot, falling for the urchin's sob story! Just as obsessed! If they don't nip it in the bud now, they'll be rumors about them. The kind of things that pull righteous cultivators down from the heavens!

YQY listens to all of this indulgently, combing oil through SJ's hair and kissing his temple. As always, no matter how hard SJ tries to hold on, yqy always manages to pull him from his mood.

"What's wrong with having a favorite?" "It's not the same and you know it!" "He's just a child, if you let Liu-shidi back on QJP, it won't even be an issue."

Lots of grumbling about toads wanting swan's flesh. They both know the root of the issue is just that SJ can't let anything that's his slip out of his grasps. His love is all consuming, kept close to his chest in the fear that it will be stolen away.

LQG is not allowed on QJP, instead, SJ starts to teach more. Tries to test LBH relentlessly, waiting for him to fail so he can prove a point. This makes things worse between the brothers, more and more arguments come up until they resort to childhood tactics of wrestling across the floor of the Bamboo house and ripping out hair. SY breaks a hair pin he knows YQY gave him, SJ tears one of SY's manuscripts on abyssal fauna in half. The fallout is ugly enough that Binghe and NYY run all the way to QDP, breaking past the sect leader's chief of staff about the impending death of YQY's husband and/or brother in law.

Kneeling in front of an amused yqy, bruised and with bald spots, both brothers Shen explain their case, each threatening YQY not to show favoritism to the other. The proposed solution is to have LBH spend some time on Qiong Ding Peak, at least until he's qualified to go on night hunts on his own. SJ is fully convinced he's won, is ready to smugly denounce any comments about Qi-ge's blatant favoritism.

Neither expect SY's eyes go wide, for him to lean forward until he's crawling to yqy's side in excitement. Luo Binghe's praises fall from his mouth like honey. SY's running to his room for a brush and paper, outlining lesson plans and tasks LBH can take on to learn about all the good CQMS does for the realm. To SJ's revulsion, SY badgers YQY until he promises to include one on one lessons. QDP already has a head disciple, there's no harm in it, right?

In Shen Yuan's eyes, a light from the heaven's has shined down on him. Invisible to all, the system flashes an exclamation point above yqy's head, offering an alternative option to saving the sect.

[MISSION OBJECTIVE: SHIBOS GOOD GRACES]

[DO YOU WISH TO ACCEPT? Y/N ?]

It's perfect! No matter how much SQQ hates LBH, the combined forces of SY and YQY will stand united against him! The sect will be saved and SY will never see his white lotus darken! Maybe, and he's nearly salivating at this point, LBH might even consider staying at the sect and becoming the next QJP lord! It will take, of course, years to soften up SJ to that point. But really, when has he ever said no to SY when it truly mattered? He just needs to suck up and live in Shen Jiu's pocket for a little, it's fine! This will be easier than the time he accidentaly came back with several short haired monsters after a mission with LQG and needed a place to keep them! And now they farm them for brushes!

SY sleeps soundly for the first night in years, comforted in the knowledge that LBH's work ethic and stubborn tendencies will surely endear himself to YQY eventually. And then, one day, he knows with certainty, that if he's not there to protect LBH, YQY surely will.

The Immortal Alliance Conference is as disastrous as it was always going to be. There is a countdown floating ahead of Shen Yuan that only he can see. Sweat is pouring down his face as he fights his way after demons he once dreamed about. SY lost track of his brother ages ago, the two separating to different crisis points to save as many disciples as possible. At the three minute mark, bright blue laughing kaomoji offer their congratulations, informing him that the inmun requirements for SHIBOS GOOD GRACES have been met.

SY nearly collapses with relief, his steps slowing down a fraction, just enough to catch his breath. Fuck teaching the fundamentals to scholars nerds did not help him retain cardio! The times is in it's final seconds when he makes it into a clearing, eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief when he passes Xiu Ya embedded into the forehead of a Black Moon Rhinoceros Python's skull. Then, just further ahead, Shen Yuan's heart falls nearly out of his chest.

There are tears streaming down Luo Binghe's face as he tips backward off the cliff. The huadian beneath his messy hair shines a bright red, the soft glow reflecting off Yue Qingyuan's black pauldron. The sect leader, his da-ge, is slumped against Luo Binghe, arms in a tight embrace, an unfamiliar sword piercing him in the back as the two tumble towards an abyssal rift.

The wail of a dying beast pierces through SY's stupor, SJ stands with a blackened hand outstretched, only steps away from following the only man he's ever loved. Shen Yuan moves faster than he ever has before, half blinded by notifications he's never seen before. Something about heartbreak points, swords, and narrative foils. He doesn't care! He doesn't care! SJ is writhing in his hold screaming like a madman, over his shoulder Luo Binghe is getting smaller and smaller, Yue Qingyuan's robes fluttering around them like broken wings. Screams echo through the clearing long after the rifts have closed.

"I'M SORRY I'M SO--"

"QI-GE YOU BASTARD! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T LEAV-"

-

Five years later, Luo Binghe returns to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, notably missing the great Xin Mo sword. The protagonist kowtows in the bamboo house, forehead touching the floor and arms extended out to present a mahogany box of bones and a long sword with a plain scabbard before an alter. Shen Yuan kneels next to him, chest shaking with labored breaths, he follows suit with is forehead pressed to the floor. From his peripheral, he can see the way Binghe's shoulders have started to shake, a puddle of tears collecting just beneath his face. A tally of points starts to flash above the boy, Shen Yuan closes his eyes, another useless apology passes through his mind.

"Gege was right, Qi-ge came home."

[nameuserlee]

Sylus — Night of Secrecy 💋❤️

❤️- Screenshots -❤️

❤️ - Kindled scene below the cut + my thoughts/rambling -❤️

.

.

.

Uhm. Wow. Just, wow. My sincere congratulations to Sylus and MC, the kiss card finally came and so did they, hallelujah.

I still can't believe this card is real, though. I'm genuinely dizzy, and I mean that in the best possible way. Because it’s sooo perfect. 10/10. No notes. Would swipe for again in a heartbeat.

I didn’t really know what I wanted their first kiss to look like. But I know that whatever I could’ve imagined wouldn’t have been nearly as good as this was. Now let me yap about this!

MC finally gets to bring Onychinus' leader to her place! After learning he needs a place to crash for 3 days before leaving for “business”, MC very generously offers her apartment as a safe house, both to keep him close and to figure out where he’ll be going since he won’t tell her (for her safety, of course).

And my god, these 3 days of them living together are the cutest, most domestic thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to read.

Shopping for groceries together, getting him his own pair of house slippers, him using (all of) her body wash. Sylus being in her space feels right, despite the smaller doorframes and treacherous bathroom cabinets.

(Grown ass man needs us to blow on his boo-boo. ADORABLE.)

But nevermind how cute this is, the situation is still unusual. Sylus and MC’s worlds kinda clash, despite how well they now get along and how much they care for each other. They are both aware of this, and no matter how fun this little play-pretend is, it’s going to have to end soon.

On their drive to the supermarket, Sylus prompts MC with a question: “When you’re in danger during a mission, do you think of anyone?” And the exchange that follows means a lot to me.

“But after my dirty work is done, I’ll wash my hands before going home.” I need this line tattooed across my forehead.

Sylus can’t leave his life back in the N109 zone, but he also doesn’t want to give up MC. And above all else, he wants to keep her safe. He tries to keep her away from his actual “business” as much as he can (which explains why he refuses to tell her where he’s going after their 3 days together).

If it weren’t for the N109 zone being risky for him to stay in right now and MC very conveniently proposing her place, he definitely would’ve found somewhere else to crash.

And so his best way to protect her while indulging their desire to see each other is to promise to “wash his hands before going home.” Whenever he gets to come back to her, he is not bringing his work to her. He will not allow himself to carelessly “taint” her life with his lifestyle. Very sweet, very thoughtful, very mindful (are we still saying mindful in 2025?) .

I’m gonna fast forward to their last night together/the kindled scene because I fear I could talk about every single line in this card.

Where to even begin.

BEST PROMPT IVE EVER SEEN ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

MC initating the kiss means everything to me. Thinking back to their first meeting, it’s him forcing her to resonate with her. Now, she’s pretty much the one who sets the pace in their relationship, which leads to this beautiful first kiss. It’s just too good.

“You really don’t want me to leave?” NO SIR SHE WANTS TO CLIMB YOU LIKE A TREE SHE WANTS YOU BAD and there’s no more denying it. She’s been worried sick throughout the whole card about him, trying to make the most out of their time together, and now that it’s down to the last hours, she wants it all.

And when things start to get heated, our consent king doesn’t only ask her once, but TWICE if she wants to do it.

And it’s soooo HOT!

In the kindled, he hopes MC hasn’t changed her mind, since she kinda nudges him away right after saying yes. He wants this to happen just as badly, but no matter what he’s always, always going to put her first, and so he checks in again with her.

Is this the bare minimum? Well yes! But I still think it’s worth noting. Especially if, again, we compare to how cold he was with her at the beginning of the relationship and how he was forcing her to go along with what he wanted.

Consent is sexy, asking for confirmation is hot as hell. 12/10 would smash again.

[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”

——

[lowdownlolo]

ohhh my favourite fred fluff scenario please i need to see your take on it PLEASEEE

fred and reader have been in a secure relationship for months, they're so healthy and so trusting and comfortable. there's a gryffindor house party that fred most definitely goes to, though reader stays in their dorm (homework or just tired or whatever reason).

some other girl has polyjuiced herself into reader and tries to make fred jealous by making out with other guys or trying to break up with him, all the while posing as the reader.

fred sees through it immediately cause wtf this is not my love? whomst are you and how quickly can you run because when they find out about this you better have left the country.

fred is possessive of them, obviously, but he also knows that they are just like that about him. there is not a force in the world that could drive the two apart, especially not some random person at a party.

feel free to change anything you wish oh but PLEASE i wanna see your spin on this so badly pleaseee

꧁✬◦°⋆⋆°◦. 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝒸𝓀ℴ𝒻𝒻 | 𝒻𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓌ℯ𝒶𝓈𝓁ℯ𝓎 ◦°⋆⋆°◦✬꧂

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥?..

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐣𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮(𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡!💋), 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝’𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐥𝐨 𝐥𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬: 𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬! 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, (𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨!) 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @kisses4fred 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 💋💖

Fred Weasley had been in high spirits when he left your dorm that evening, the usual buzz of a Gryffindor house party calling his name. You’d waved him off with an indulgent smile, telling him to go enjoy himself while you stayed back to catch up on your homework—or possibly just to enjoy a quiet evening without the noise and chaos.

“Try not to blow up the common room,” you’d teased, glancing up from your parchment.

Fred had laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead before pulling back to study you with a warm, fond expression. “Blow it up? Love, I’d never leave you homeless. I’ll keep the chaos contained.”

“Sure you will,” you’d replied dryly, your lips twitching into a smile.

Fred had left reluctantly, glancing over his shoulder one last time before closing the door. He didn’t particularly want to go to the party, not when you weren’t there, but George had insisted. “You’re already an old married man,” George had teased. “Come on, live a little.”

The party was as wild as expected. Gryffindors packed the common room, music blaring, butterbeer and firewhiskey flowing freely. Fred, as usual, was in the center of it all, orchestrating pranks, laughing with friends, and keeping George from getting them both banned from the tower. But no matter how much fun he was having, a part of his mind always wandered back to you. He wondered if you were still working or if you’d fallen asleep on your books, and he caught himself glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes until he could sneak away and return to you.

That’s why, when you walked into the common room, Fred’s heart stuttered for a second.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You’d said you were too tired to deal with the noise, too swamped with work to join. But there you were, standing at the edge of the room. Fred’s initial surprise melted into confusion as he watched you move. Something wasn’t right.

You didn’t carry yourself the way you usually did. Fred was used to your quiet confidence, the way you moved like you belonged anywhere you chose to be. But this version of you was stiff, hesitant, almost awkward. It was subtle, something most people wouldn’t notice—but Fred did. He always noticed you.

Then came the real blow: you sauntered over to some Ravenclaw bloke and laughed at whatever drivel he was saying. It was a loud, shrill laugh—one that didn’t belong to you at all. Fred frowned, his hand tightening around the butterbeer he’d been nursing. His confusion deepened, but he didn’t feel panic. He trusted you implicitly, knew that whatever he was seeing couldn’t possibly be real.

And then you kissed the Ravenclaw.

Fred didn’t feel heartbreak or betrayal. Instead, he felt something colder, sharper. He set his drink down slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the scene in front of him. The way you moved, the way you kissed—it was all wrong. Whoever this person was, they weren’t you. They didn’t know how you leaned into Fred when you kissed him, or the soft little sigh you made when you pulled back. They didn’t know you well enough to even pretend to be you convincingly.

Fred’s lips curled into a smirk, dark and dangerous. Whoever had done this—whoever had dared to steal your face—was about to learn why you didn’t mess with a Weasley, especially not his person.

He pushed through the crowd with purpose, weaving between dancing students until he stood just a few feet away from the impostor. His towering frame and piercing stare were enough to draw attention, and the room began to quiet as people noticed him.

“Well, well,” Fred drawled, his voice carrying easily over the muffled music. “What a surprise, love. Didn’t know you’d decided to master time travel and personality swaps tonight.”

The impostor froze, their back stiffening as they turned to face him. Their expression faltered for the briefest moment before they forced a bright, nervous smile.

“Fred! I—uh, I thought you’d be happy to see me!”

Fred tilted his head, his smirk widening as he stepped closer. His eyes were sharp, glittering with something that made the impostor shrink back slightly. “See, I am happy to see you. But there’s just one problem.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. “You’re not her.”

The impostor blinked, their smile faltering completely now. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m—”

Fred laughed, the sound cold and humorless. “Please. You think I wouldn’t notice? I know every inch of her, every look, every move. You? You’re a cheap knockoff.” He leaned closer, his tone darkening. “Whoever you are, you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I make you wish you’d never set foot in this tower.”

The impostor’s eyes darted around the room, clearly realizing they were cornered. The real you wasn’t here to see this, but Fred knew you’d be livid when you found out. And Merlin help whoever had done this, because Fred was possessive of you, sure—but you were just as protective of him. There wasn’t a force in the world that could drive the two of you apart, and anyone foolish enough to try was playing a losing game.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the impostor stammered, but their voice wavered, betraying their panic.

Fred didn’t even blink. “Run,” he said simply, his tone low and menacing.

The impostor didn’t need to be told twice. They bolted for the door, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste. Fred watched them go, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and fury. He’d deal with the details later—figure out who they were and how they’d managed this stunt. For now, all he wanted was to see you.

When Fred reached your dorm, he knocked lightly before stepping inside. You were exactly as he’d pictured: curled up in a blanket, your quill in hand, looking up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“Fred? Back so soon? What happened to the party?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. You let out a soft laugh, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

“Fred, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice muffled against his jumper.

“Nothing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Just missed you.”

You pulled back slightly, your brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay? You’re acting… weird.”

Fred smiled, his usual playfulness returning as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Weirdly in love, maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile softened. Whatever had happened at the party, you didn’t need to know all the details. Fred was here, with you, and that was all that mattered.

taglist: @wingyattium @ivyinthesun @georgeplease @kisses4fred

taglist is open if you wanna be added loves! 💖💋

[pico-farad]

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

More Secret Identities AU

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.

[celuere]

when our hearts break

interlude for Tangled Hearts

pairing: arlecchino x fem!harbinger reader

cw: arle pov time chat, massive hurt with 0 comfort, yearning lesbians, roughs sex, strap-on, pathetic arle, she is very bad with feelings your honor, maybe a lil ooc 

everybody go thank della for inspiring me to write this totally not heartbreaking piece! this is also just a short interlude chapter ncjdwkbnfkjnvnvrj

“lady arlecchino, your skills on the dancefloor are truly remarkable…“

“is that so…? you flatter me, lady isabella…“, snaking one hand around the woman‘s hips, the harbinger led todays target over the dancefloor as if it were her last. the only reason why the knave bothered to even be near another woman on one of the fatui gatherings was simple. intel. lady isabella was none other than the little sister of one of nod-krai‘s most influential men. and she needed those informations. badly.

the bitter looks you threw into her direction almost every few minutes did not help masking the bitter taste on her tongue. the taste of betrayal. you did not talk ever since your… „break up“ three weeks ago. if you could call it that.

she will never forget how the light left your eyes on that very day.

she will never forget how the children‘s shoulders sagged in disappointment at the information of your sudden dismissal. and she never hated herself more for it.

oh, and don‘t forget the looks of disapproval she has to endure from tartaglia.

„i… was wondering…“, placing a hand into arlecchino‘s neck, isabella slowly leaned in, lips nearly away from touching.

„what has been on your mind, doll?“, calling anybody else by that name who wasn’t you felt like dagger being rammed right into her spine.

„my hotel is just down the street…“, crimson x‘s following isa‘s finger running down her chest as her mind grew quiet.

that was actually not part of her plan at all. but given her situation… blowing off some steam…

her eyes found yours for the last time this evening, eyes wide as if you heard every single bit of their conversation. 

„what is your room number.“

a shiver was sent down the knaves back at the nails dragging over her skin. the naked woman underneath her moaning with each drive of her hips into her. my god, you were taking her so well with your leg thrown over her shoulder, one plea after the other spilling from your lips as she made sure the tip of the dildo was kissing your cervic with each thrust of her hips against yours.arlecchino‘s moved instinctively to your thigh to rub over the scar that graced this part of your body from an injury when you were still just teenagers under „mother‘s“ care.

you loved it when she cherished your scarred body, taking her time time to kiss and caress each one of them.

„[name]… fuck…“, you were taking her so well, moaning right into her mouth as your lips clashed together.

but the skin where your scar was supposed to be was as smooth as silk.

„hah… b-but my name is isa-“, those pair of teary eyes also didn‘t belong to you.

her arousal vanished as quickly as it came at the cold realization of the reality she found herself back in as she angled her hips for the tip of the strap to hit the woman’s sweet spot and shut her up for good.

„you must have misheard me.“, the taste of her still lingered on arlecchino’s tongue and she hated it. she hated how it wasn’t you she was currently fucking. it wasn‘t you was moaning her name on repeat. but she needed to somehow relieve herself. as long as she could somehow delude herself that she was indeed having sex with you, the world was alright. 

arlecchino pulled out of the lady underneath her, drawing a pained whine from her as she flipped her over onto all fours. she couldn‘t stand to look at this strange face any longer. she ignored the missing beauty mark scar on her back. ignored how high pitched her voice was compared to you. a problem that quickly resolved as arle scolded her to tone it down. despite how hot her blood was running, the knave felt as cold as ice. at least she didn‘t complain about her fast pace.

soft, calm breaths filled the room behind the harbinger as she was sat on the edge of the bed, her bottom lazily covered by the blanket a she stared daggers into the wall.

a gaping hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.

never wanted she someone to slap some sense back into her so badly. at least she got the intel she needed from isabella, gotta think positive or something like that. celestia held her for a fool for good.

you might hate her.

but she will always hate herself more.

[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.

[aarchengel]

Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊

Apology

Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience

1.5K

A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!

Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader

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Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.

But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!

Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.

You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.

Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.

You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.

Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...

Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.

She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.

Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.

He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.

He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.

"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.

You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.

He was here. He was here, you realised.

"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.

You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.

You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.

With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.

"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.

"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.

You wiped them away and hugged him close.

"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"

"Yes!"

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[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.

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