#please include any i’ve forgotten

[it-wasntaphase]

moments from “dan and phil react to phan twitter 2” that i think we must discuss:

the way dan looked at phil when discussing the blonde era at the start of the video

“this has given you so much power, i’m scared”

“people say we’re very good omens coded anyway, do i need to go red now?” “you should go red!!”

the way they looked at each other when discussing the “back cushion” bar

“ours face each other”

the multiple reactions to sister daniel x blonde phil

them sitting on top of each other basically???

“will he ever meet sister daniel???”

“we’ve got a few things in our mouth at the moment” “we are a resource guarding labrador and y’all don’t want to know what the hell…” (???!!!)

“your arm does look meaty there”

“the bar is there to strap…” *both giggle* “…a back cushion to, but the back cushion i bought was too big” “…right”

dan referring to phil as a princess multiple times

[gor3sigil]

I’m going to get so much shit but this post but I don’t really care.

We know that transfems and trans women are hypervisible and are often seen as the “default” when people talk about trans people. And I’ve noticed that because of that, transmascs and trans men are not only forgotten from very real issues but also from what is considered as trans culture as a whole.

When people talk about trans people making art, science etc, it’s almost always transfems and trans women only.

And I’d like y’all to reflect on that and remember that transmascs and trans men have also contributed, and to include them when you talk about trans people’s contribution to the world.

A few example:

Music: Hyperpop is a trans subculture, and we love Sophie and 100gecs, but don’t forget about Dorian Electra, and, more recently, Tobre.

Science: there's a lot of names here but pleasd do not forget about Ben Barres, neurobiologist, the first openly trans scientist in the US Academy of Science. Alan L. Hart, who was a pioneer in X-ray photography used for turberculosis detection, and the first trans man to receive an hysterectomy.

And regarding queer history, please, for the love of God, remember Stormé DeLarverie. I still consistently see Marsha P. Johnson named as the one who started the Stonewall Riots when she has said multiple times that it wasn't her. It was most likely Stormé DeLarverie, a genderqueer butch and male impersonator.

I’m not trying to be bitchy, it’s just important that we do the work because cis people sure as hell won’t.

If you have any other names you’d like to add, please, please do !!!

[kissingmilfs]

⟢ 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 | 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂 ⟢

18+ minors and men please dni

content warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, clitorial stimulation, sex w/a strap, light choking/biting

⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ

you’d had such a wreck of a day at work. the files your boss spent all week waiting for never showed up. and naturally it became everyone’s problem. including yours. you don’t even work directly underneath her. but for the rest of the day you were somehow solving her problems while trying to get your own work done. overtime is generally something you avoid. yes, the extra few hundred dollars were nice but surely not at the expense of your sanity. thankfully tomorrow was saturday. thankfully you worked in a “swanky and up and coming” part of the city.

a bar, your co-workers recommended frequently, sat at the corner up the block from your office building. the sounds of your steps were swallowed by the traffic surrounding you and the other pedestrians having lively conversations. it took no effort to locate the bar. maneuvering through glass and gold trimmed swivel doors—your eyes were forced to adjust to the low lighting of the bar. it is not the usual dive bar of your somewhat forgotten college days. the bar glittered with gold and black accents. marble decorated the space tastefully and almost inconspicuously.

despite the upscale location and vibe, you prayed none of the white collar men would take it upon themselves to acquaint their cigarette breath with your personal space. the space was busy, but not crowded. you’d normally indulge in sitting at the far end of the bar. tonight such familiarity isn’t plausible.

you sling your coat over the back of chair before settling into it. your manicured clean cut nails tap idly on the bar top. most bars are sticky and smell painfully of beer. everything here is kept to fine precision. as you take in the rest of your surroundings, it’s clear the owner(s) took a keen attention to detail.

a voice breaks your train of thoughts and the silence. “anything to drink? or just looking?”

your eyes instinctively begin to roll but as you redirect your attention towards the voice—your innate reaction comes to a pause. if you lacked a little less decorum, your jaw might have hung open at the sheer amount of woman across from you. she absentmindedly polished wine glasses while awaiting your response. her grey eyes dont necessarily pierce into yours but she is carefully considering you.

the fingers tapping the bar top pause. “what’s good here?” it’s the only response you can muster.

the bartender laughs casually and effortlessly throws the drying rag across her shoulder. “everything and anything. i’m the best bartender in town.”

“not sporting that bourgeoisie, mixologist, tag then?”

she barks out another laughter. “no. i don’t need a fancy variation of bartender to prove myself. come on. what’s to drink?”

you sigh and shrug. “honestly i’m not sure. i’m a little exhausted making my own decisions. how about you surprise me?”

“surprise?” her eyes track your disposition and the pouty lips as your own eyes survey the entirety of the back wall of liquor. “any preference to our expanse of liquor?”

your index and middle finger wedge between your platinum black credit card and id in the chest pocket of your suit jacket. sliding the payment and identification across the bar smoothly until they’re grazing brown fingertips. “something strong. i’ve had a long day at work.”

the bartender is somewhat surprised by the confidence displayed. not that she had pegged you as a damsel in distress. a woman who confidently sports a tailored three piece suit with a complementary coat isn’t an unusual member of the bar. your air of nonchalantness and casual surveillance of your surroundings draws her in. and when you, oh so casually, mentioned zero interest in decision making…it was almost as if a trap was set. a game launched.

“one surprise me drink then.”

within seconds she has flourished away and her hands grab speedily at different shelves. your eyes remained intently focused on the blur of movements. you attempt to track the ingredients but it’s futile. after a few minutes, she pours a umber liquid into a whiskey glass. leaning over, you smell the notorious notes of expensive ass whiskey. and something sweet.

“what is it?” you inhale another whiff.

the bartender pours the rest of the contents into a shot glass and shrugs. “try it. see if you can guess.”

you lift your eyes through your eyelashes. “okay…” you cautiously wrap your fingers around the glass and take a diligent sip. the flavors tingle on your tongue. you were right about the subtle sweetness. the whiskey doesn’t have the usual warmth coating your throat. well, it’s not as noticeable. instead your skin intakes the warmth and the first sip is reminiscent of a rum cake.

“holy shit.” you exclaim with pure genuine awe. “okay, um, whiskey, yes?” the bartender smirks and nods. “okay…it’s kind of sweet. cinnamon maybe? or nutmeg?”

her smirk shifts into an authentic smile almost revealing one of her canines. “no, but close. we make our own vanilla extract. i might’ve indulged and scraped a tiny amount of the soaked bean into the shaker.”

your eyes widen with the revelation. authentic vanilla beans are expensive and hard to come across unless you know someone. “that’s…woah, okay. what else did you put in here?”

“a little of this and a little of that. continue sipping and think on it. i’ve got other customers.” she tips her head towards the end of the bar. you can tell her tone isn’t rude or one of dismissal. if anything you believe she’s almost overindulging you.

as you take deliberate sips of the drink, you find yourself unable to pull away from the sight of the bartender. your eyes drink in the way her muscles move as she tosses the ingredients in a shaker. they threaten to burst around the sleeve of her plain black t-shirt. she grips her instruments of choice with such suave and ease. using either elbow, flesh or prosthetic, to hit the edge of the shakers for that satisfying popped release.

by the time you’re finished with the drink—you’ve worked through countless cheesy pickup lines and flirty innuendos all in your head. but before you can grace your words on her ears—a woman—no a creation of the gods—commands the entire presence of the bar. she must stand far over six feet. her dark skin glistening with a sheen she must’ve taken precise effort to massage into her skin. her muscles are perfectly sculpted and crafted as if by a potter’s gentle touch. and the dress?

mothers above the dress. who was the lucky son of a bitch who wove that fabric around her shoulders and breasts? the deep red and luxurious cotton threatening to fuse with her radiant skin. she certainly is not a real woman. she must be an apparition of everyone’s mind. some ethereal being projecting an unattainable image for us. yet as she approaches the bar with almost a mission in mind—you come to the realization the only seats are opposite you. one drink of the glorious concoction isn’t enough to even allow yourself near her presence.

as you deliberate whether to flag the bartender down again, the goddess herself, encroaches on your space. her perfume twirls around your noise. the familiar scent of coco butter overwhelms yet comforts you. her hand on your shoulders almost produces an embarrassing moan.

“may i sit beside you, sweetheart?” her words are perfectly enunciated and in an unrecognizable accent. or maybe it’s simply the drawl of the words.

you nod without any hesitation. there’s no denying a woman such as herself. you could not fathom a world in which she’s ever heard the word, no. her smile is almost mischievous as she accepts the non-verbal response. you witness her dress move as second skin as she effervescently sits. her golden eyes meet yours with such intensity you hold a breath. her face spreads into such a wide grin. you hadn’t realized how audible your swallow was. you would not have caught on to it until much, much later in the future.

“ambessa. pleasure to meet you.” her golden bracelets jingle against each other as she extends her hand.

you stare dumbfounded at the hand before remembering. her name rings in your heard over and over. “pleasure is all mine. i’m y/n.”

ambessa regards you with a tilt of her head. you can feel each inch of your skin on fire where her eyes trail towards to then away. then she lets out a hum. a satisfied hum. “i see. i’ve yet to meet you before.”

“i’m usually more comfortable drinking a glass of wine at dinner than drinking at any sort of bar. but i must admit it…this isn’t your normal bar.”

“indeed it isn’t.”

your brain works far too hard to think of something else to say. instead you awkwardly sip the melted ice and last whispers of the drink. you cringe internally when it makes that god-awful sucking noise as it reaches the final drops. within seconds, the empty glass is swapped out with a new drink. two drink straws dangle from your lips as you look up at the hand replacing it. you manage a faint, thank you, smile.

without warning, the bartender’s fingers guide the straws out from the grasp of your lips. “i know we’re supposed to care about the environment. so i’ll let ya keep the straws if you’re feeling attached.”

your cheeks, without second thought, burn with the irresistible urge to break out into a smile and giggle helplessly. you’re not one to shy away from the advances of beautiful women. you’re confident in your abilities to flirt and flirt back. yet it’s something tonight…something you’re unable to place your fingers on.

“i’ll, uh, let you have it.” you shake your head instantly to take the words back. “throw it away, i mean.”

your bartender only graces you with a chuckle before departing again. the next thing she does—you are certain it’s a hallucination. without hesitation pops one of your used straws between her teeth. as if it’s a toothpick or piece of hay. your thoughts don’t have the opportunity to stray for long. ambessa’s bracelets summon you once again.

it’s not pathetic to mindlessly follow the sound of a gorgeously stunning woman’s bracelets. especially not when ambessa’s long finger is dancing along the rim of her glass.

“tell me…what exactly do you do for work? you surely do not seem like an investment banker.”

you crack a smile at the not-so joking remark as ambessa’s voice gains your full attention. “no, i am not. i’m essentially a glorified reader. i read all these grant proposals that come into our company. i select which ones are worth our time and money then i allocate the proposals to different teams within the company.”

“smart girl, i see.”

it’s the only note ambessa gives you but you cannot contain the growing smile at the genuine praise.

“thank you. i’d like to think so too. and how about you? what do you do for work?”

ambessa knows how to draw you in. there’s a twinge of a smile on her lips. instead of offering an immediate reply, she lifts her glass and swirls the contents around. “a little of everything, dear. one might call me greedy.”

“greedy? how so?” you find yourself inching towards ambessa. though it appears, or maybe it’s the trick of the light, ambessa is purposely drifting back to draw you close.

“how so…excellent question. i assume you’d know a little something about greediness though.”

you stiffen at those words. you’re usually quite adaptable in situations—never needing more than a few seconds to switch courses. yet ambessa’s words knocked your usual confidence out of you. greedy? of all the words and general assessments—greedy is never a first impression you’ve left. have you?

“i’m…unsure…of what you mean.”

ambessa’s laugh crackles in the air. the hairs on your arm react as if to electricity or physical touch. “ah. i see you’re not fully acquainted in the evident ways of your desires. both for myself and my lovely bartender, sevika.”

your throat shrivels up at ambessa’s blatant comments. it aches for an escape. or perhaps you need the quenching sacrament that is only offered after foolishly devoting your lust to ambessa. you force your gaze away from the trance held by golden embers sparked in ambessa’s eyes. it takes only one second to realize sevika’s paid close attention to the interaction at play.

the moment your eyes locked in with those glossy grey ones everything clicks in place. sevika cracks a smile around the straw, your used straw. ambessa’s finger never once stops moving around the glass. the condensation mimicked how you felt. slowly melting under the watchful gaze of two undeniably attractive women.

“you two know each other then?” the slight tremble in your tone is noticeable to you and ambessa.

ambessa, always cunning and quick wit, replies, “what do you think, sweetheart?”

with a pause, you let the interactions of the night wash over you. ambessa’s quick determination to touch you as she had approached. sevika spending a minute too long doting on you with the drink. offering a far too special creation. the sharpness of each of ambessa’s words towards you. both women had, not too discreetly, expressed their interest in you.

“what are you…to each other?” your eyes flicker between ambessa and sevika. sevika now closer. only a few feet at the sink idly washing her instruments.

ambessa scoffs. the sound makes you whip your head towards it. “what does it matter? i think it’s clear what we both desire.”

sevika chuckles at the subtle harshness in ambessa’s words. or maybe it’s lack of disinterest to further coax the truth into you. ambessa is patient but headstrong. flipping her shakers to dry, sevika closes the distance. creating a bubble between all three of you and the rest of the patrons.

“don’t make this difficult, doll.” sevika’s tone is much suave than before. “come home with us tonight. we’ll show you a good time.”

you cannot remember how or when you’d said yes to the proposition. it didn’t take a genius to jump on the opportunity either. all you could remember was sevika and ambessa sharing a grin. then with a snap of ambessa’s fingers—sevika switched spots with another bartender. another blur of time went on and were wedged between both women in the back of a black suv. sevika’s lips were attached to your neck while ambessa stroked her hand teasingly along your inner thigh.

ambessa cackled once you spread your legs open for more of her touch. it never came. it didn’t matter much to you in the moment. you were aware it wasn’t rejection from ambessa. the woman craved to have you all but salivating for her touch.

“you’ll beg us to stop touching you soon, darling.” ambessa purred near your ear before nipping at the soft flesh of the lobe.

no one said a peep as ambessa tugged you through the lobby of their penthouse suite. her fingers crushing the silk of your tie. the sight alone invoked a lowly moan in your throat. you were not embarrassed to admit, to yourself, you grew damper in your underwear.

nothing and absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the ways in which ambessa and sevika desired you. once your feet crossed the threshold of the elevator into the penthouse—sevika’s fingers worked in tandem to unbutton your dress shirt. it dawned you on far too late about your suit jacket discarded in the suv.

before you could even get a word in, sevika already sunk to her knees and maneuvered your pants and cotton underwear down to your ankles. it was a momentary lapse of awkwardness as you attempted to wiggle your feet out of both shoes and pants. within seconds of freedom, sevika’s face is buried between your legs. her tongue does not hesitate. an eager lick is taking of your folds—a warm tongue paired on your even warmer pussy.

“fuck…” you mutter with the sheer hunger and heat behind the first pass. you reach out for sevika’s hair to steady yourself from stumbling over.

sevika’s tongue moves with a messy yet deliberate rhythm. she moans into your cunt—savoring every last inch of you. you watch in awe as her eyes are closed and tongue exploring every nerve that makes you whine. her tongue delves lower—teasing your entrance only with the tip—before bringing it back to your swollen clit. you’re far too wet for sevika’s tongue to dissolve your juices rapidly. you feel her tongue spread your desire all over your clit before she sucks the bundle of nerves between her lips.

your nails scratch profusely at her scalp. any attempt from embarrassingly falling over as she eats you out. your moans turn more frantic and your whimpers more high pitched. before you can think to warn sevika—a commanding voice demands sevika stop. both sevika’s and your disappointment rings in the air. the woman on her knees grumbles into your cunt. you release a mewl of annoyance. sevika chastely adores your clit with a kiss before returning upright.

“don’t look too sad, buttercup.” sevika playfully nudges your chin.

before you allow yourself to respond, ambessa steps behind you and secures one arm around your waist. she molds your bodies together. the older woman is completely naked. her breasts press into your shoulders. her hips are positioned on your lower back. you tense momentarily feeling her breath on your skin but it dissolves immediately.

ambessa’s head dips to your neck and licks a strip of skin along the curve on your shoulder. “such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? so eager and willing for us.”

you forget almost instantaneously about your loss orgasm. sevika steps closer which graciously allows more support for your trembling body. both her hands grip into the ample, tender flesh of your hips. she smiles wickedly.

“come on, ambessa. you promised i’d have my fun with her.” sevika fakes a frown. despite her words directed to ambessa, her eyes remained on you.

ambessa chuckles lowly against your skin and her nose tickles as she nods. “very well. i’ll play nice for now.”

before you can catch the needy whine it slips out the second you’re deprived of ambessa’s warmth. she steps away with a pleased smile at your reaction. within a blink of an eye sevika’s scooped you into her arms bridal style and is following closely behind ambessa.

“i can walk, you know?” you mutter with a quiet tone as you position your arms around sevika’s neck.

“so? not enjoying the princess treatment?” sevika returns without missing a beat.

you scrunch your nose to starve off the blush threatening to bloom over your face. sevika only laughs knowingly. now as you’re in the bedroom—you don’t have much time to properly appreciate the deliberate decor and interior design. sevika carefully lowers you on the bed—treating you almost too delicately for your liking. ambessa situates her back flushed to the headboard.

ambessa spreads her legs a few inches wide and pats the space between them. “come, dear.”

with a deliberate nod, you crawl towards ambessa until you’re kneeling between her legs. she offers a genuine smile and a tilt of her head. a bashful feeling washes over you at her undivided attention. it takes a few seconds but then you understand the silent command. you sit between ambessa’s legs—your back leaned against her chest.

“i knew you were smart.” ambessa praises and her hands diligently part your legs until each one hangs over one of hers. “we like safe words around here, dear. as it is your first night we will start with the traffic light system. do you know what that is?”

“yes, ambessa.”

you cannot see it but you can sense another wide smile spreads across ambessa’s face. “delightful. let us put it to the test while sevika gets ready.”

one of ambessa’s hands cups your breasts and the other slides down your torso. fingers hovering over your mound before she speaks again. “what color, dearest?”

an immediate raspy whisper emits from you. “green.”

ambessa hums her acknowledgment then her fingers part your folds. the cool air tingles on your exposed cunt. you even hear the slickness as she spreads you apart. her hand on your breast gives a firm squeeze before palming at the flesh. your sharp breath causes ambessa to pause and you immediately reply with, “g-green…” her actions continue with the confirmation. ambessa rolls your nipple between two fingers as she ghosts the other fingers over your clit. your hips instinctively buck—feening for more friction. ambessa deviously chuckles near your ear. while twisting your nipple with a surprisingly delicate touch, ambessa’s middle finger draws circles over your clit. it takes almost nothing to tip your head back against her shoulder with a moan.

ambessa eagerly drinks in your approval and continues with the ministrations. the circles prove to only tease you and leave you leaking on the sheets. after a full minute passes, ambessa’s finger wanders lower. the same digit trails teasingly over your entrance.

“what color, sweetheart?”

you groan lowly. “green…please…green.”

as the last syllable leaves your lips, ambessa effortlessly drives two fingers into your waiting cunt. you both moan for the same yet different reasons. the two fingers curl expertly drawing another moan from you. it takes no effort for ambessa’s fingers to glide in and out of you without resistance. each movement filling your ears with the profane wetness between your legs. you whimper with your lips parted as she curls her fingers deeper and fucks you slowly yet deliberately. as if she’s waiting for something. or someone.

“she ready?”

sevika’s voice cuts into the sounds of your pleasure and ambessa’s fingers stretching you. with half lidded eyes you find sevika through the haze of lust glazed over them. on her hips hang a dildo of about six inches with healthy width of girth. the harness accentuates the dips and curves of her defined hips and legs. as you’re shamelessly checking sevika out—she is doing the same. her eyes trained on ambessa’s fingers expertly curling in and out of you.

your back arches as ambessa adds a third finger. ambessa drops her hand from your sensitive nipple and wraps her arm around your waist—pulling you back flushed against her body.

“she should be ready. are you, sweetheart?” ambessa lathers your neck with kisses after her question despite her fingers still moving steadily inside of you.

“yes…” your focus is split everywhere. unable to keep your eyes trained on sevika without moaning as ambessa stretches you further for what’s next.

nonetheless sevika finds herself in bed with you both. she inches forward on her knees until she’s in the space ambessa created between your legs. both her and ambessa exchange a look before the fingers inside of you slowly slide out. you whimper at the loss but know it’ll immediately be replaced with something bigger.

sevika’s hands soothingly massage the length of your thighs. her thumbs lightly digging into the flesh—easing any residual tension. you sigh out a moan as her thumbs move further up. they find themselves in the valley of your hips and legs working with more added pressure.

“please sevika…” you attempt to arch your back—desperate for more than teasing.

ambessa’s arm tighten its hold on your torso. “none of that, doll. you’ll stay still and wait for sevika.”

“ah, it’s okay, ambessa. she’s kinda cute like this.”

sevika positions her knees underneath ambessa’s thighs for leverage. her non prosthetic fingers dance and dip between your folds—ensuring you’re ready. she guides the head of the strap towards your hole. the tip nudges against your entrance. both you and sevika bite your lips in anticipation. ambessa’s hands are tenderly caressing your sides sending goosebumps everywhere.

with one swift yet deliberate thrust sevika has sunk the entirety of the strap inside of you. likewise a moan is buried in your throat wanting escape but unable to. you feel the roughness of ambessa’s hands settling into their positions. one hand returned to your breast and the other slithering down to locate your clit once again.

the moan finally releases once sevika cautiously grinds her hips down and ambessa applies a delicious pressure to your clit. you find yourself melting into ambessa’s arms as her lips idly kiss along your shoulder and neck.

“one last time dearest…what color?” ambessa mutters against your skin.

“green…fuck…green for the whole night…”

you hear both their pleased chuckles and a blush dusts on the apples of your cheek. the momentary embarrassment dissipates the second sevika lazily drags the strap out then thrusts it back inside of you. she repeats the action a few times—stretching you out before setting a pace. once sevika’s patience runs thin of the teasing, she grips your thighs and starts thrusting her hips. it’s a steady momentum and rhythm. you feel the veins of the fake cock sliding against your spongey walls. the slight curvature allows a pleasurable friction on your g-spot each time sevika drags the strap out.

your moans gradually grow more and more desperate the more sevika thrusts into you. ambessa’s firm circles on your clit accelerates the process of your orgasm. paired with the interchangeable stimulation of your nipples from talented fingers. sevika pants and occasionally grunts above you. she cannot decide whether to watch her cock disappear inside your cunt or the expressions on your face. her nails leave impressions of half crescent moons on your thighs.

“feels so fucking good, baby…shit…” sevika growls as she crouches forward. her forehead grazing only an inch above yours.

sevika’s hips begin to move with a little less grace. snapping into you with such an intensity you’re already preparing for the lingering soreness tomorrow. you cannot even get the noises of pleasure out from within. your head falls on ambessa’s shoulder—no longer able to support the weight. ambessa, always an opportunist, encircles your neck with her calloused fingers. the action draws a moan out of you and it’s immediately paired with ambessa adding more pressure to your clit.

“oh fuck…that’s…gonna make me…cum…”

ambessa’s squeezes the sides of your neck experimentally and the walls of your cunt flutter and tighten around sevika’s strap. it produces a series of tiny whimpers as sevika’s thrusting is unrelenting and ambessa fingers never once pause their careful, pressured circles on your clit.

“come for us, baby. you’re so pretty like this…so perfect…” ambessa whispers softly near the shell of your air.

you’ve never once came on command. you figured it was a myth. that is before ambessa cuts off your air circulation. before sevika manages to spread your legs wider and somehow move even faster. the fingers on your clit match the speed in which you’re being fucked. ambessa tips your head backwards so sevika can crash your lips into a heated and passionate kiss.

within seconds everything comes crashing down. your legs tremble from the onslaught attention. tongues messily clashing as you both moan into each other. the blood gushes rapidly in your ears drowning out the squelching sounds of your cunt being filled. you’re not even sure if you moaned or if it was a silent one. neither of them relent until you’ve limply sunk into ambessa’s embrace.

sevika draws back from your lips. smiling proudly as a string of saliva connects you both. ambessa’s hand encroached around her neck drops and starts caressing your trembling form. her lips return with more intent kisses anywhere she can reach. sevika’s hands carefully lift your legs off of ambessa’s and settle them on the bed after she draws the strap out of you.

you whimper with the empty feeling. despite the emptiness, your cunt throbs achingly around nothing. you hear someone ask you a question but you cannot determine from whom.

“did you hear that?” the voice asks and you shake your head truthfully. you feel the laughter rumbling on ambessa’s skin—must’ve been her. “do you need a break? or are you ready for more?”

“m-more?” you whine out as you half heartedly watch sevika loosen then step out of the harness.

ambessa bites gently into your shoulder emitting a tiny yelp out of you. “yes, more. you think sevika is the only one with all the fun? oh darling…i myself need to taste you and feel you come around my tongue, my fingers…maybe i’ll bring out a bigger toy. would you like that?”

“yes, ambessa…” the prompt answer is without hesitation.

ambessa licks the bite mark embedded in your shoulder now. she words settled deep into your core. “oh…you’re too perfect. i think we’ll keep you, pet.”

[ihangelic]

BOYNEXTDOOR FIC RECS

warnings. sfw & nsfw. legal line only. all categories sorted by oldest to youngest. this list includes my own works (i’m shameless). more works will be added overtime, so keep coming to look!

keycode. ⚠︎ = smut/suggestive, ☀︎ = fluff, ☾ = angst

✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note. if any authors tagged want their @ slashed or not be tagged again, please lmk! keep in mind this list is literally just my personal readings, so it’s not going to have an ‘even’ amount of anything.

under 1k:

☾, ☀︎ heartache by @zynz0 | contains. jaehyun x gn!reader, angst to fluff note. love me some satisfying angst

☀︎ we call it love by @nicholasluvbot | contains. taesan x fem!reader, fluff

⚠︎ untitled by @soobinskii | contains. sub!leehan x fdom!reader, smut note. author has written leehan exactly how i love sub!idols to be written: desperate, horny and adorable :(

⚠︎ untitled by @hazeytae | contains. stoner!leehan x afab!reader, smut

above 1k:

☀︎ ⚠︎ pretty boy by @hanfourz | contains. sungho x gn!reader, fluff, suggestive, christmas setting note. I JUST LOVED THIS IT WAS SO ADORABLE AND DOMESTIC IDK TT <3

⚠︎ baby blue by @camstqr | contains. virgin sub!sungho x fem!reader, smut, f2l note. this is 7.7k and i want to kiss author’s brain for it.

☀︎ evening glow by @loserlvrss | contains. riwoo x afab!reader, fluff, f2l note. this was written absolutely beautifully, author really knows how to paint a picture. also their backstory and coming to realize feelings and the decisions they made i found really relatable. there was just something so poetic yet raw about this work.

⚠︎ one more night by @heechwe | contains. ceo!jaehyun x fem ceo!reader, smut note. well written smut with a fun concept!

☀︎ forgotten grocery list by @loserlvrss | contains. jaehyun x afab!reader, fluff

⚠︎ ☀︎ kiss culture by @ihangelic | contains. jaehyun x afab!reader, clingy/sick jaehyun, fluff to smut, winter setting

⚠︎ ☀︎ pas de punk by @ihangelic | contains. punk!taesan x fem ballerina!reader, e2l, band au, smut, fluff

☀︎ almost, but not quite by @gluion | contains. leehan x gn!reader, fluff, s2l, university au note. i’m speechless while also having so much to say. this read like a coming-of-age movie, the scenes and choices of where to put a dialogue break— everything was so well thought out. (also, the moment i saw that author listed the marias and the neighborhood as the first two songs for the fic’s playlist, i knew it was gonna slap.) i was literally hooked on the first sentence— fish pun intended. the awkwardness was so endearing, how leehan constantly wanted to be around reader yet denied feelings, the ponyo references and fish/ocean analogies? a gorgeous, feel-good read.

⚠︎ sleepyhead by @blueberrybeomgyu | contains. sub!leehan x reader, smut note. THIS IS MY SHIT! SOFT SEX- like idek how to describe it but i love when writers can write smut that’s so fuzzy and soft and warm?? literally have admired this writing style of smut for years and i can’t seem to do it. incredible writing.

⚠︎ mine to ruin by @ihangelic | contains. dom!leehan x fem!reader, smut note. one of my own works, but i really like this one! contains plushie humping and guided/mutual masturbation.

☀︎ more than a little bit by @jigeuminunbich | contains. leehan x fem!reader, fluff note. AHG I JUST LOVE THIS! the love confession was a great touch and was realistic and super cute to me!

⚠︎ distracted by @melohann | contains. sub!leehan x reader, smut note. i think this is one— if not THE first bnd fic i’ve ever read and it’s one of my favs. rather cute for smut.

⚠︎ wet the bed by @0310s | contains. leehan x gn!reader, smut

☀︎ love and suds by @bananielle | contains. leehan x reader, fluff, comfort note. perfect for when you have a bad day, anxious, or just need to relax.

[fellshish]

Do you have any go to Good Omens comfort fics?

i got u ❤️

stockholm’s other syndrome (T, 5k): aziraphale lets himself get ‘kidnapped’ by a demon. very cute and romcommy

sit tight take hold (E, 150k): formula 1 au that got me totally into f1 while i am not even a car person. the type of au that becomes its own thing and you love escaping to it again

where a canvas blooms (T, 3k): cuddle arrangement au with SUCH gorgeous art too it’ll make you feel so warm inside

manual handling (E, 8k): massage fic. ummm can an e rated fic be a comfort fic? sure why not. definite rereading material so

let me care for you (M, 1.7k) literal comfort — crowley gets cared for

big name feelings (E, 103k): fandom au and SO well done including the art. i followed this while it posted and it was so exciting

the gift (T, 3k): short & sweet they talk about the elephant in the room

my mind holds the key (T, 3k): aziraphale wants to know who the ‘best friend’ was that crowley supposedly lost. superbly written

one night in bangor (E, 17k): a classic and great on every reread. there’s a heaven-hell mixer and omg…. the careful, exciting, fluttering flirtation

slow show (E, 95k): i know i know it’s such an obvious one to rec bc it’s so famous but genuinely one of thee best fics and a lovely reread each time. actors au

empirical study on the principles of snake care (T, 2k): sorry to be that guy but sometimes i reread my own fics and i laugh with the little jokes bc i’ve forgotten them. aziraphale tries out some snake care tips on crowley

as always: begging people to add (self) recs to this post because i’d love to know what people’s comfort fics are. please share the joy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's hump day, my dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don’t see Bucky at all the next day. His motorcycle is gone when you leave for work and when you come back. You assume he has his own work to do, or some running around. He did just move in. You try not to take it personally but you are disappointed. 

This is a lot more fun than all those other times. You’re not as stressed, not as insecure. Maybe it’s because you’re not hoping for more. Because you took a page out of Angelique’s book and stopped caring. One way or another, you’re going to get rid of your v-card. It doesn’t have to be special, it just has to happen. 

On your day off, you decide to get rid of the prickly weeds around the front porch. It's the perfect opportunity for you to show off your shortest shorts and blast some tunes while you’re at it. You put on your rose gold headphone and the best of girly pop. 

You smell coffee but don’t see your neighbour. You don’t want to be too obvious. You get down on your knees and pull-on the dollar store gardening gloves. You’re not good at any of this but these damn plants keep scratching your ankles. 

Before long, your alternative motives drift away as you wrestle with roots. You yank free a particularly stubborn weed and send up a cloud of dandelion fluff. You sneeze into the back of the glove. A shadow passes over you and a gentle tap lands on your shoulder. 

You squeak and drop the leaves. You pull off your headphones and twist to look up at Bucky. Your shoulder tingles where he touched. It’s hard to think someone like him can be so soft. 

“I’m headed into town...” he crosses his arms, the cleft in his chin deepening as he mulls his words, “you said you wanted to test out the motorcycle...” 

“Oh really!” You exclaim as you look up at him. You focus on his face, even as you’re innately aware of how close your are to something else. “Oh, Bucky, that’s so awesome. I’ve been so excited for this.” You gather up the compost bag and he offers his hand. He hauls you up to your feet and reluctantly let go. “I’ve been so patient.” 

He hums, “you can’t wear those. You’ll get burned.” 

He looks down at your shorts. You giggle. You pull off your gloves and clutch them together. “I’ll get changed. I have the perfect pants!” 

He just nods. 

“I’ll wait,” he assures and points over his shoulder. 

You grin and spin to rush away, headphones bouncing around your neck. You dump the gloves and bag on the porch and clatter through the door. You stop to wipe the dirt off your knees and strip off your shorts before you get to the bedroom. 

You search out the fake leather leggings with all the fake zippers. The sun won’t be kind but you don’t mind. You slip into them and find a strappy red top with a bandana style cut at the hem. The bejeweled letters across the front read ‘sinful’. It’s cheesy but you love it. 

You find a pair of sunglasses with thick black cat eyes and trade your sandals for leather booties. You hook your purse across your body as you come out with a jangle of your keys. You zip those away with your phone as you come down the stair. 

Your chest jiggles with each step as your upper tummy peeks out beneath the fabric. Bucky looks over and arches a brow. You approach as he takes a helmet from the handlebar. 

“Found a spare,” he offers. 

You take it and thank him. His eyes skitter between you and the bike. You giggle and tap your heels in excitement. You're genuinely amped up for this. 

“It’s so cool!” You say, “oh, will you take a picture of me with the bike?” 

He squints and his cheek dimples. He shrugs, “sure.” 

“Amazing,” you unzip the small crossbody pouch, “here.” 

You unlock your phone, your background a picture of you, Angelique, and another friend, Tracy, your backscreen. You bring up the camera and hand it over. 

“Oh, can I get on or?” You face the motorcycle. 

“Sure, be careful.” 

You put the helmet on and let the straps hang loose. First you pose in front of it and cock your hip. He aims the lens, your flowery blue and purple case looks dainty in his large tattooed hands. Then you cautiously approach. He comes closer and puts his hand under your elbow to help you onto the backseat. You notice the backrest that wasn’t there before and the shining new chrome bolts that hold it on. 

You straddle it as he backs up. You stick your tongue out for another picture. Then you smile and give a peace sign. 

He lowers the phone and nears, offering it to you. You snag his forearm, “and a selfie? Together.” 

He twitches. “I don’t much like pictures.” 

“Just a memory. Promise, I won’t show anyone.” 

He growls and shows his palms, “what... what do you want me to do.” 

“Here, turn,” you direct him, “put your arm around me and get in frame.” 

You flip the camera and extend your arms. He moves stiffly and hovers his arm over your shoulders. He smells like oaky cologne. You smile as he growls at his own reflection in the phone. You lean into him and watch his features calm then snap the photo. 

“So cute,” you exclaim. “That’s my new wallpaper.” You tap on the three dots and quickly replace the pic of you and your girls, “see.” 

“Huh?” He stands straight. 

“Everyone’s going to think I’m so badass. I mean, I’m not, but they’ll think I am,” you chime. “Oh, uh,” the straps tickle your neck as you put your phone away, “Bucky, I’m so dumb. Can you help?” 

You pinch the straps and flick your lashes at him. He exhales again. You stare at the front of his plain black tee. It clings to his muscles and squeezes his thick biceps. He takes the straps and loops one through the metal ring. His fingertips brush your throat and chin. 

He slowly tugs it snug and his hands freeze. He stares at them and his gaze slowly crawls up to your lips. The air turns stolid around you. He winces and puts his hand on the helmet, wiggling it to test it. 

“Good to go,” he drags his hand off and turns his back to you.  

He grabs the other helmet and pulls it on over his hair. He slides on his sunglasses before he straddles the bike in front of you. He grips the handlebars and takes it off the stand, kicking it back as he easily supports the heavy beast of a bike. His strength is felt in the shifting axel. 

“Gotta hang on unless you want road burn,” he says over his shoulder. “Gonna be loud.” 

“I can handle it,” you assure him as you lean in and wrap your arms around his middle.  

You feel his stomach clench. He turns the key then brings his hand back to turn the throttle, making the bike roar. He walks it back and angles it down the street. He gets it rolling then puts his feet up, zipping off through a tunnel of wind. 

You let out a gleeful holler. The rush is unlike anything you felt. Your heart is pumping and your veins are on fire. You hug him tighter and laugh raucously. 

He stops at a sign and plants his boots, “you okay?” He calls over his shoulder. 

“I’m perfect. I’m-- I’m in heaven!” You answer and wiggle in the seat. 

He takes off again. You squeal and cling to him. You watch the smear of the buildings, trees, and pavement. You feel like you’re flying. Not to mention, you’re vibrating. You feel your leggings getting wet. This is more than fun, it’s fucking hot. 

At last, he stops and quiets the beast. You look around the plaza as he kicks down the stand. He waits and signals you off first with the tilt of his head. You get off and he follows. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says. “Boring stuff.” 

You look over at the organic shop sign. You laugh, “are you buying gluten free granola?” 

“Something like that,” he almost smiles. Almost. 

“Hang onto that,” he taps the helmet. 

You unloop the straps and hang it from your elbow, “yes--” you have to stop yourself from saying daddy. You’re not sure if it’s a joke or serious at this point. “Sir.” 

He eyes you then scoffs, “alright, then, doll, let’s go.” 

His cheek ticks and he looks away. He turns his back to you quickly and beckons you with his hands. You follow. 

“Doll,” you say. 

“Sorry--” he begins. 

“I like it. It’s cute! Like a Barbie, right?” 

He sniffs and opens the door of the shop, “sure, something like that.” 

Or a sex doll? You think to yourself. You nearly dance through the door. This is an amazing day. 

He enters behind you. You radiate to the rack of plant-based candies. They are all so colourful. He sidles along to the bin of trail mix. He takes a paper bag and dumps a scoop inside. 

“They have any with M&Ms?” You shuffle up next to him. He grunts. “Kidding.” 

“Good food,” he mutters. “Nice place.” 

“I’ve never been before,” you say. “You’re not vegan? That pie I made had real meat?” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “nah, just... try to appreciate the small things, these days.” 

“Right. Well, it’s a really cool place—oh, cookies!” 

You brush by him and snag up a box of the vanilla glazed shortbread. They look delicious. You turn to him and grin as you show him. 

“Small things, right?” You bounce back toward him. 

He stares at you a moment, “yeah.” He nods and folds over the top of the paper bag. “There’s... there’s a bar around the corner.” 

“Oh, a bar?” You chirp. “How about I buy you a round? For the ride?” 

“Mm, I was just gonna run over and deal with... talk to a friend.” He browses as he speaks. “Thought you could wait with the motorcycle.” 

“Oh,” you deflate, “whatever you like.” 

“Or... you can sit for a drink. Won’t be long,” he shrugs. 

“Bucky, I’m all yours. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

He coughs and grabs a loaf of ten grain. 

“One drink,” he grits out. 

👙

You buy your cookies and Bucky his small haul of groceries. He fits it all in his saddle bags as you watch. He comes around and points you around the other side of the plaza. He walks beside you. As you think about how you must look together, you get all fluttery. 

You’re tempted to grab his hand but you don’t want to spoil all your progress. After all, he invited you. And now he’s taking you for a drink. Sort of. 

He holds the door at the bar for you, greeting the bouncer with familiarity. You look around the dim space. It’s just after noon, there’s not too many people there. He points you to a table. 

“What do you drink?” He asks. 

“Do you think they have appletinis?” You ask. He blinks. You laugh at him. “Joking, I’ll have a light beer. Any brand.” 

“Right, doll, coming right up.” 

You sit and watch him go. He talks to the bar tender and points to the table. Then he walks up around the curve of the bar and into the backroom. You narrow your eyes curiously. Huh. 

The bartender pulls a tap and pours the pint. He brings it to you. “Miss.” He retreats as if he’s afraid of you. Before you can even thank him. 

You pull the tall glass close as condensation hazes along the outside. You taste the thin layer of foam. It’s a bit tangy. You peer around listlessly. This isn’t very exciting. 

This isn’t the typical sports bar. There's a pool table and a dartboard but no TVs for the games. There’s leather jackets and skull emblems and a few disarmed guns on wooden plaques. 

There’s a thunk from the back of the bar then the slam of a door. You peer over as Bucky emerges and stops at the bar. Without a word, the bartender pours him a dark glass of liquor. He grabs it and marches over to you. He sits and sighs. 

“Had to hit the restroom,” he says. 

“No worries,” you make yourself drink the beer. Wheaty. 

“You make up your mind?” He asks. 

“Hmm,” you wipe foam from your lip. 

“About the motorcycle. Still want one?” 

“I definitely want one!” You grin. He brushes his fingertips over his knuckles. They’re reddened. Is one of them split? Were they like that before? 

“It’s an investment. Those new ones are... well, if you’re looking for a vintage model, I know some people. I could do any bodywork you need,” he offers. 

“Really? Oh, Bucky, you’re so sweet!” You chime. 

His mouth slants, curving at one corner. He takes a swig of his drink. 

“Not really, doll,” he rests his chin in his hand. “But for you, I’ll try.” 

[aitafrog]

harry and tom|voldemort have been dating for years…right? so - why did tom|voldemort just confess that he likes him…???

a valentine for the iconic @tommarvoloriddlesdiary

“I can’t hide it any longer,” said Tom desperately, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. “I’ve tried to ignore my feelings, to move on, but…I have a crush on you. I understand if you feel uncomfortable, or hurt, or confused, but please, just give me a chance.”

Harry blinked in disbelief. 

Tom sat on their shared bed, in their shared apartment. He wore a locket that contained a lock of Harry’s hair. He had planned tonight’s date night.

And he was in his pajamas, too – including his sleepshirt, which said in loud letters “IF LOST, RETURN TO BOYFRIEND” (to match Harry’s, which read “I’M BOYFRIEND”).

“Did you hit your head?” asked Harry, disregarding the possibility that Tom was unaware they were dating – that would be ridiculous. “Are you okay? Do you remember what year it is?”

“Don’t mock me!” cried out Tom, standing up in rage. “I just like you, Harry! Don’t be so cruel as to call it insanity!”

“Tom,” said Harry, baffled. “We’ve been dating for years now. We own an apartment together. Have you forgotten that?”

Tom was silent, completely still – Harry could see his brain rebooting behind his eyes.

“Just a prank, obviously,” he said finally, straight-faced. “Of course I knew we were dating. I’m not an idiot. Ha.”

Honestly, imagining it as anything other than a prank was concerning, so Harry let it go, contenting himself with another night of snuggling with his beloved boyfriend of the past ten years, ridiculous sense of humor and all.

[mrscarpenter]

“We were always meant to burn together.” 2

Summary: cant think of one without spoiling everything 🥲

Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks.

🪐notes: its been a while since i’ve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)

Biggest thank you to my lovely hannah ( @just-some-random-blogger ) for beta-reading this <33

« “I am not going back to Oldtown with you, uncle.” »

« “Then where will you go?” »

« “i’ll be with rhaenyra.” »

Dragonstone ― Near the beaches...

Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.

As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece, you, had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by Rhaenyra, her children, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Daemon’s children, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys. 

The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest, who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, and was brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire. 

Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.

You, dressed in the traditional garments, looked back at everyone. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of your father, mother or siblings. They were not in attendance— a deep shame. You had hoped that they would be there to support you. 

You never wanted to be wed, you linked it with childbirth and after the late queen Aemma, and Daemon’s late wife, Laena; it scared you to no end. Your thoughts drift back to the day you and Daemon arrived at Dragonstone, and he had made the proposal. 

« “If you don't want Alicent to have any control over you anymore, you must wed me. A woman’s place is beside her husband. She couldn’t deny that.” »

« “I do not wish to be wed, Daemon— to sit around as a broodmare, my only purpose to produce heirs until I end like...” »

« " I know you are frightened, but I won't let anything happen to you.” »

Proceeding with the wedding, you and Daemon cut your hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed your blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on your foreheads.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Blood of two. Joined as one. the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzī. Prūmī lanti sēteksi. Hen jenȳ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozūndesi. Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo. Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast...

"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond... defiled. An outrage."

"Indeed," Alicent replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.

"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."

"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, she and daemon are another matter entirely. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."

"These are dangerous times."

"The day will doubtless come when House Hightower will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."

"I shall await your call, my queen. However..." Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain young princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."

Alicent raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but gulp. "My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Dragonstone

After the wedding, there was no bedding ceremony. As much as daemon had wanted to bed you, he knew it was not something you wanted yet, still far to scared of your duties as wife. Only you two would know that secret, to anyone else you had consummated.

You had avoided daemon after that night, trying your hardest to not speak to him, or to avoid his presence altogether. Having never been close with him beforehand, you didn’t know what to talk to him about. If you weren’t being a wife, what else should you be doing? You did not know.

The small folk and the fishermen looked up in confusion as you passed them, it wasnt a usual occurrence that a Targaryen princess such as yourself, walked along the dusty beach of dragonstone, in a fancy dress no less. You had wanted to clear your mind, you told yourself. But subconsciously, it might have had something to do with the sightings of a dragon near the beach the past few days.

Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasn’t obvious. “Princess, maybe we should turn back.” Ser Steffon spoke, gulping as he hears the screams of terror as a dragon is sighted flying towards the beach.

“If you want to return, you are welcome to do so Ser. I am staying.” Claiming a dragon wasnt the first thing that crossed your mind, you simply wanted to stay at the beach. And unlike the small folk, you were not terrified of dragons. But yet as the dragon flew over you, and the thought of claiming it did cross your mind, a small tingle of terror did run over your spine before you shook it off. You are a targaryen, this is your birthright. You tell yourself. Don’t be scared of what is owed to you.

You speed up to the flat lands where you saw the dragon land. You hadn’t seen what dragon it was, you had only hoped it was seasmoke, or any other dragon that wasn’t as scary, in your mind, as the wild ones.

After Aemond claimed vhagar, you were left the only Targaryen without a mount. It broke your heart when your dragon didn’t hatch in OldTown. Now that you had this opportunity in front of you, you weren’t gonna let it go to waste.

Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: “Prince Daemon is going to kill me.”

Now that you have the dragon in your full sight, you can finally see which one it is. You audibly gulp. “grey ghost.”, you whisper to yourself. It just had to be a wild dragon didn’t it?

You don’t let it deter you, slowly stepping closer. you were never taught High Valyrian in OldTown, you had only started learning with Rhaenyra when you first came to dragonstone. You hadn’t progressed far, so you tried your hardest to remember dragon commands. Lykirī, dohaerās, sōvēs, you recited over and over in your head as you stopped in front of Grey Ghost. He is a beautiful pale grey-white dragon, and if the stories were true, he blended in beautifully with the clouds.

It made sense that he was near the beach these past few days, according to the stories you had heard, Grey Ghost preferred fish.

“Beautiful”, you mumble to yourself, you were mesmerised.

“Princess! Please get away from that beast!”

You clench your jaw, “Dragons are not beasts, Ser Steffon, they are beautiful creatures. If you do not wish to be here, you are free to leave!” You yell at him over the wind.

You take small steps towards Grey Ghost, and he growls at you. “Lykirī, Grey Ghost, Dohaerās!”

You chant those two words over and over towards him, your hand held out as you step closer to his head. This is it, you think, this is the part where i get burned alive.

Eventually you step so close, your hand lands on his snout. “Kostilus” you whisper, please.

Grey Ghost turns his head away. You move towards the length of his body, praying to the seven you won’t get burned, or eaten.

You hear Ser Steffon running away, probably to fetch Daemon, or other guards. You dont know why, if this is when Grey Ghost decides to kill you, nobody would be able to stop it.

You slowly climb up, somewhat clumsily seeing as Grey Ghost has no saddle for you to climb up on, and you’re wearing a dress instead of the usual riding wear.

As you manoeuvre yourself on top, you settle down and let out a sigh of relief, It doesnt last long because you’re forced to lean forward and grab onto something, anything, as grey ghost moves. “Lykirī, Grey Ghost, sōvēs.”

With that, Grey Ghost takes off. Once in the sky, its hard for you to not panic. Not only is Grey Ghost very fast and very excited, you are also flying at a great height without a saddle, or reigns to hold onto.

You hear a loud roar and suddenly a red dragon flies beside you, caraxes. A smile blossoms onto your face as you follow the length of the blood wyrms body til your eyes land on your husband.

Daemon smiles at you, as he leans back in his saddle and spreads his arm wide. You’d do the same, but you are nowhere near as skilled at riding a dragon as he is.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Dragonstone —— DragonMont

Your feet touch the ground as you dismount Grey Ghost. You spent an hour in the sky, flying around with Daemon, before he led you to the dragonmont.

In the sky it was fun, but you knew that now you’re on the ground, you were in for a scolding. And as you approach Daemon, the stern look on his face proves you right.

He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. “Do you know how reckless and dangerous that was?”

You sigh, but dont say anything to excuse yourself, because nothing will excuse it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.”

You say nothing, you dont move and you dont speak, you only avert your eyes downwards. Daemon notices and pulls back slightly. He puts his fingers under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with him again. He leans slightly forward, and presses his forehead against yours for nothing more of a nanosecond before pulling away again and walking off, leaving you standing there.

Part 3, anyone?

explore post, masterlist

please comment & reblog if you enjoyed. <3

© mrscarpenter, 2025

[hangesfavles]

Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c 

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.” 

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling. 

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body. 

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you. 

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly. 

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream. 

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor... 

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still. 

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly. 

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

Perfectly Misaligned

Vi x reader

Summary: Vi has always been protective over you ever since you moved in next door to a less than savory part of town. Nevertheless though she still tries to play things cool though and not cross any boundaries. Whenever she hears the way your friend really talks to you though from the other side of the door, all bets are off.

Contains: very very au! still kind of new to the arcane/LoL universe so this will not be following canon or anything at all (obvs because it’s fanfic but still), sweet and soft vi, protective vi, depictions and discussions of abuse (physical and emotional), injuries, hurt x comfort trope, fluff fluff and more fluff!! <3

basically a vi version of my first jb one-shot but I still included some differences! once again my first time writing for her so please be gentle! i hope you like it 🥹🩵

(PSA: i’m writing this from experience! if you are in an abusive situation like this please take care of yourself 💙)

“Jesus, have you ever managed to recall a single thing right?!” My best friend seethed, someone who should’ve been my best friend at least as she slung an already chipped dirty plate across the dingy kitchen.

I should’ve kicked her out at the first sign of violence. I shouldn’t have even invited her over to think of it. Somewhere in my stupid brain I thought that talking about it in person would help us work things out more. Maybe because in some way I thought she was more biting over text messages so it wouldn’t hurt as much in person either. Every moment of rationalization got stupider by the second.

“That never happened! I never said any of that! You’re doing just what you always do! Pointing the finger and making me out to be the villian! You really think you’re the innocent one in all of this?!” I yelped as soon as she slammed her hand down on the emotional support water bottle I was currently clutching onto until it hit the floor with a loud thunk.

The sound of a knock on the door made me flinch again, the tears burning my eyes until they started to ache. “Hey, y/n? It’s getting kind of loud over there, are you okay?” The voice followed from the other side of the door. Violet, probably the best neighbor I could’ve asked for in one of the trashiest apartments. It was definitely a rough part of town we lived in, the only thing we could afford really. She always checked in on me though.

I hated how pathetic I felt hugging myself, eyes wide as I peered up at my ‘friend’ as if I was fucking asking for permission. Permission she clearly wasn’t giving me. “Didn’t know you two were so close. Is this someone else you’re hiding me from? Someone else you’re probably painting the worst picture of me to?”

“Y/n, I’m coming in.” Vi echoed, fuck I had almost forgotten I’d given her a spare key for whenever she needed it or just wanted company.

The moment the door swung open though I could feel the weight of my ‘friend’s push shoving me towards the ground. The sting of broken glass biting in my skin as I yelped in pain, bits of blood now streaking across the ground. And Vi had seen every second of it.

“Did you just put your fucking hands on her?” She practically growled as she made her way into the apartment, thick combat boots kicking aside broken glass to make a path.

“Oh c’mon, do I really look like I would hurt somebody? She clearly fell-”

“Yeah, you do. Because that’s all I’ve been hearing you do since the moment I came home and thank god I got here whenever I did-”

“Vi, please don’t-” I squeaked out with yet another wince of pain as I tried to push myself up to a sitting position. I knew how she was. The way she stayed bandaged up and covered in bruises didn’t hide exactly how she made her money. But I had never wanted to see that side of her myself. I didn’t think I could.

The words were lost to me though, lifting my hand as if to latch onto her own only to see a piece of glass protruding from the muscle below my thumb. Vi only took one wide look down at me before shooting a sea of daggers towards the culprit’s way. “I’ll give you a headstart before I break every last finger that you laid on her? How about that?”

“Vi-” I tried to protest again, but I should’ve known better than to believe she’d actually try and stand up to someone like Vi. Towering over both of us with a plethora of tattoos in black ink and enough muscles to put a bodybuilder to shame, she’d be intimidating to anybody. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had stumbled out of her apartment the day I moved in with a hopeful grin on her face as she offered to help me carry things upstairs I probably would’ve been intimidated by her too. But she had charmed me from day one.

“Damn it, doll, what’d she do to you?” She whispered, kneeling amongst the glass without a single care of it scraping her up too. “Is it safe to pull that out?” She wondered, bandaged and bruised fingers gently taking my wrist into her hand to examine the damage on my palm.

“I think so… it isn’t too deep.” I spoke, sucking in another yelp of pain as I yanked the glass from my hand and shakily tossed the now red piece aside. “It’s not that bad- she- she just pushed me.”

“No, y/n-” It was the first time she directed that glare towards me and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me wince at first. Only seconds later though I watched her icy expression soften with a shake of her head. “You can’t excuse it this time, doll.”

I didn’t say anything, even knowing she was right, she stared down at my scraped and cut knees while the tears dripped down my cheeks until they landed on the open wounds and made them sting. Knowing I would probably find some way, some reason to excuse what had just happened. I always did.

“C’mon, baby, let’s go over to my place and get you patched up.” She sighed, almost with a hint of disappointment before sliding an arm around my shoulders and another underneath my knees. I sucked in a breath of pain as I was separated from the pool of glass, microcuts now hitting the air as the pieces that had embedded themselves into my skin clinked to the floor.

My eyes felt heavy, my head already lolling to the side the moment I felt her sweeping me up with ease. My head ached from the amount of arguing, almost worse than the stings of the open wounds. Vi shoved open the door to her apartment next door, still the same chaotic mess it usually was whenever she invited me over. She never showed it, but sometimes I think she felt lonely. She was just the kind of person you could tell even by first glance that she had been through a lot. I never asked though. It never seemed appropriate to get too personal. She was a private person, and I respected that. Or tried to.

“This might sting a little.” She whispered once we made it to her tiny bathroom, leaving me propped up on the sink as she rummaged around for her first aid supplies. I tried to mask my expression of pain the moment she touched the antiseptic to my bloodied knees but ultimately failed as a whimper tumbled from my lips.

“I’m sorry.” I spoke through a sharp breath, “That y-you have to do this. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in our shit.” I lifted a shaky hand to try and wipe at my eyes, tears that seemed to have miraculously remained at bay until now.

“No, y/n, I got involved on my accord. Because it seemed like somebody needed to.” She shook her head, and I never knew that hands that looked so rough could be as gentle as hers were. Pulling them away from the wounds only to hold my chin in between her thumb and pointer finger. “Has she ever put her hands on you before, doll?”

I shook my head almost immediately, watching her expression harden, eyes icy enough to freeze. “Are you lying?” She asked again, a quiver setting into my bottom lip as she seemed to see through it all. Her anger was unmistakable, the way she pulled her hands away from me only to clench them into fists. Shoulders set like she was about to swing at something, anything. And still somehow I wasn’t afraid of her.

“Vi, Vi please… please don’t go after her right now. Please just- just stay with me. For a little bit, please.” I reached out to slide my hand around her bulging bicep just before she could put her fist through the wall.

I felt her swing around to face me, an arm sliding around my shoulder, fingers knotting through my hair as she held me to her broad shoulder. “You’re more important.” She finally spoke with another long breath that felt like she was loosening every muscle in her body. “She’ll get what’s coming to her though.”

“Promise you’ll be careful.” I begged into the fabric of her tank top.

“I can’t ever promise that, but I’ll always do my best.” The feeling of her fingers running through my hair was almost enough to pull the tears from my eyes again. Gentle touches I wasn’t familiar with. Gentle words I wasn’t used to hearing I almost couldn’t believe them. The feeling of safe muscular arms holding me to her warm chest as I clung onto her like I hadn’t ever done before. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I heard her softly shushing me from above, her chin propping up on top of my head. “Shhh, I’ve got you now. I’ve got you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

She was careful whenever she inched away, gently drawing my body from hers. Calloused hands drawing down my bare arms as if checking for anymore tiny cuts the glass might have left. “Let me finish patching you up, and then I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”

She wrapped my knees and hand in her bandages and placed little bandaids on every small wound. Whenever we made it back to my place though she didn’t hesitate to sweep up every last bit of the broken glass too before finally letting herself sit down.

“You didn’t have to clean everything, you know? I could’ve taken care of it.” I spoke into my lap, face drawn down as if in shame.

“I think you’ve cleaned up someone’s mess a few too many times.” Vi sighed before stretching an open arm out as if beckoning me in. “C’mere doll.” I was already moving into her arms, taking in her musky scent with just a tinge of iron that she always had whenever she returned from work. “I’m sorry I didn’t wash up first, I just heard the yelling and I came running and-”

“It’s okay.” I said with a shake of my head just before nuzzling into her chest. Her body could’ve swallowed me whole if she wanted it to, I felt like nothing more than a ragdoll curled up into her arms. And I normally would’ve hated it. But with Vi I felt like I could finally be small and sensitive and fragile and I’d be safe. It was just a matter of not having to be on guard 24/7.

Vi cleared her throat from above me, her fingers brushed underneath my chin as if nudging me to look at her. Blue eyes that I felt like were gonna send me into cardiac arrest, and with my hand bundled up into a ball against her chest I swore I could’ve felt her own heart kicking into gear. “Y/n, you know I really care about you, right?”

“After tonight, yeah, I- I think I do.” My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and all I wanted was to hide my face into her shirt again. But with the grip she had on my chin I knew she wouldn’t let me. “I- I care about you a lot too.”

“I know you do, I just feel like a lot of people don’t return the favor, you know? So I just… I want you to know that. I’ve got you. Regardless.” A long breath was shuddered from my lungs at her warm words. Feeling her cracked but soft lips drifting downwards to brush against my forehead just before she finally released my chin.

It felt like they held a lot of weight to them. Almost more than what they let on, than she wanted to let on. At least for now. They were enough though. Enough to get my eyes to tear up pathetically again as I burrowed my face back into her chest with a small sniffle.

“You’re my best friend, Vi.” I muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

She delicately slid her fingers around my wrist, softly stroking my pulse point until my teary eyes fluttered shut, “You’re mine too, darling.”

[susicheng]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices      l.mk

chapter 13 kissy kissy

warning: this chapter contains implied sexual content, including a semi-suggestive build up to the implied sexual content

a knock on the door. a hesitant sound, one that really screamed “mark.” it shouldn’t have made your heart race the way it did. when you opened the door, his breath hitched. you wore that familiar look—equal parts guarded and hurt—but there was still warmth in your eyes, even if it was buried beneath layers of doubt. mark’s heart ached at the sight of you, and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let this spiral out of control.

“hey,” he said softly as you stepped aside to let him in.

“hi,” you replied, your tone neutral but tinged with weariness.

mark stood in your apartment, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he glanced around nervously. the cozy warmth of the space contrasted sharply with the tension in the air. he didn’t know if you’d really hear him out. he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t. he’d already messed things up so badly. but he trusted that you had told the truth when you’d said you were prepared to listen.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the city outside filling the space between you. finally, mark broke the silence.

“thanks for letting me come over. i… i know i owe you an explanation.”

you folded your arms, leaning against the wall as you kept your expression steady. “i’m listening.”

mark exhaled sharply, his breath shaky despite the warmth of the room. “jaemin… he’s someone from my past, someone who… well, things ended messy with us. i thought i’d moved on, but when he came back, it threw me off.” he paused, searching your face for any sign that you believed him. “but it’s over. whatever jaemin wanted, it’s not something i can give him. not anymore.”

your gaze softened, but your stance remained firm. “then why did it feel like he still had a hold on you?”

mark winced, your words hitting a nerve. “because he used to. and maybe part of me hadn’t fully let go until now. but being around you… you’ve shown me what it feels like to want something real, something healthy. i’m not going to let jaemin take that away.”

you looked down, your fingers playing with the edge of your sleeve. “it’s hard to believe that when it felt like he could just call you and take your attention.”

mark took a step closer, his voice steady but filled with urgency. “you have my attention. you’ve always had it. jaemin… he’s not anything more than a fragment of my past, okay? and i should’ve been stronger, should’ve handled things better that day. but i don’t want him. i want you.”

your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his eyes. for the first time, you saw the vulnerability beneath his usual confidence, the raw honesty he was laying bare.

“mark…” you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“please,” he continued, stepping even closer. he hesitated, as if afraid of pushing too far. “tell me what i can do to fix this. i’ll do anything. i can’t lose you over something like this.”

you looked up at him, your resolve wavering as his sincerity pierced through the walls you’d put up. “i just… i need to know that you’re sure. that you’re not still tangled up in the past.”

mark didn’t hesitate. “i’m sure. more sure than i’ve ever been about anything.”

his hand reached out tentatively, brushing against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he took it as a sign and intertwined his fingers with yours. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your defenses crumbling.

“you mean so much to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “i don’t want to mess this up. tell me you believe me. tell me you…”

before he could finish, you closed the distance between you, your lips pressing against his. mark froze for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if anchoring himself to the moment. the world around you blurred, the tension forgotten as heat blossomed between you.

the kiss deepened, his hands sliding up to cup your face as he poured every ounce of his emotions into it. you felt the tension in his body, the desperation and relief mingling as he held you closer. when you finally pulled back, your breath mingling in the warm air, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“does that mean…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, a small smile breaking through. “i’m willing to try. but no more surprises, mark.”

“no more surprises,” he promised, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“we’re not official until you win me over with a real date, though.” you pulled back to level him with a serious look, being met only with his laughter.

“yes ma’am. i’ll plan a date more romantic than anything you could ever dream up.”

the moment lingered, the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet hum of your apartment a witness to your reconciliation. the air between you felt electric, charged with unspoken possibilities and the fragile hope of starting anew.

mark’s hands drifted lower, resting on your waist as he gazed at you with a mix of longing and tenderness. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice husky. his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your sides, sending a spark of warmth coursing through you.

“i missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely audible as your gaze flickered to his lips. he caught the movement, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.

“can i?” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your cheek. you didn’t need to ask what he meant. you answered by pulling him closer, your lips meeting his again in a kiss that was slower, more deliberate, yet no less consuming.

his touch grew bolder, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. the uncertainty from earlier faded entirely as the heat between you built, your heart racing as his lips trailed from your own to the curve of your jaw, then lower to the sensitive skin of your neck. your breath hitched, and you clung to him, your fingers threading through his hair as he pressed a series of lingering kisses there.

“you…” he began, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “you mean everything to me.”

the weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and the kind of yearning that felt impossible to ignore. you leaned into him, your forehead brushing his as your lips met once more, the connection between you deepening with each passing second, the world around you forgotten.

mark’s hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your skin with a featherlight touch that sent a chill down your spine. his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission as his breath grew uneven. when you nodded, his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that matched the intensity burning between you. his hands roamed your sides, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you, the heat building with every passing moment. the atmosphere thickened, every movement, every touch charged with anticipation, as if the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in this electrifying, intimate moment.

previous ꩜ .ᐟ             next ꩜ .ᐟ             masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: wrote this while looping baekhyun delight album.. 10/10 experience i highly recommend

© susicheng .. please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work

#: @hyuksworld @gela0205 @cyjzzl @mmjhh1998 @injvns @222brainrot @kittydollzz @tadadw @t-102 @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @nctrawberries @ryuvrsie @ttjisung @ddolbyong @purezitas @jae-n0 @ballsa420 @remgeolli @fullsungss @peterm4rker @autumngirlchim @holyhaech @njmluvr @choizzn @sewergirlfriend @ddolleri @toroufriteh @pickmedolls @haechansssun @yizhrt @haesluvr @ilovebtsomgie @seulpinkk @haechology @ant-onie @xuyiyang @alwahyeonie @nahyuckers @jich3nle @fae-renjun @jeongintwt

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - six (j.yh); section two

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. five | six (section 1); (section 2) | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: the end. thank you all so much for loving this story and being so kind and supportive. this fic has meant the world to me, and i hope you all are happy with the ending. there will be a short epilogue posted soon, but for now our story comes to a close.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, anxiety/nerves, some general angst and upset emotions, allusions to a bad household growing up and cptsd, very frank coversations about idol life, pr, etc. saesangs and saesang invasions of privacy, discussions about delulu both fun and not okay delusion, but then also smut! including…. oral m!receiving, throat fucking, messy oral, cockwarming, dom!yunho, sub!reader, actual d/s dynamics even if it’s kinda not defined, subspace but reader doesn’t know that’s what it is, fingering, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, light degredation, mostly praise, heavy on the good girls / pretty girls, cowgirl, absolutely intense multiple orgasms, creampie, dw they don’t need to wrap it up they’re married and in love

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 21.9k **note, this part was too long again for tumblr! please make sure you've read section one first! linked here!

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

You spend the day in a daze, alternating between naps and needy touches, almost every second spent in the sheets. Finally, Yunho pulls you both into the shower and makes you something to eat, leaving you with nothing to do but explore the house as you stay away from your phones. 

You find a little library, a private study, a few more bedrooms with their own luxurious tubs and views of the ocean. Eventually you stumble into a wine cellar, and Yunho jokes about popping what looks to be the oldest bottle of champagne you’ve ever seen. 

You settle on a more recent, modest looking bottle of white and hope no one notices it’s missing after you’re gone. 

With the sky finally dark outside, as Yunho uncorks the bottle and finds some glasses, following you out onto the patio. 

He pours you both a glass before he settles into his own seat next to yours, but then he sighs pleasantly, “The storm really cleared up,” 

“Mhm,” You nod towards the inky sky, “look at that moon,” 

His eyes follow yours to the wafer thin crescent that cuts a bright white shape over the water, “It’s so beautiful here,” 

“You can never see the stars like this in Seoul,” You let your head fall back to take in the lights above you. 

“We’re always in cities,” He says softly, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen stars like this.” 

“Me either,” You murmur, “I wish I knew any of the constellations,” 

He smiles, studying the sky, “I only know a few,” 

You turn to look at him, watching as he looks at the sky, trying to discern patterns from the dusky night above you. 

“There,” He stretches out a hand, pointing up, “my mother always talked about Lyra,” 

“Where?” You lean in, trying to follow his gaze. 

“The brightest one there,” He points, “and then there’s another bright one just below it,” 

It takes you a minute, but you see it, and you nod, “I got it,” 

“There’s two stars there, Vega and Altair,” He smiles softly, “Vega’s the highest one, the brighter,” 

“Your mother told you stories about the stars?” 

He drops his hand and turns towards you, a warm expression on his face, “Only this one, I’d forgotten about it until just now.” 

“What’s the story?” You ask, settling into your chair. 

“You know that old myth? The farmer and the weaver who fell in love at first sight?” He says, and you nod. It’s a famous myth, a sad one too. Two lovers separated by circumstance, cursed to meet only once a year, but still they can never manage to make it back to each other. Every rainy season is said to be their tears, falling down on the earth as they reach out for each other in the sky. 

“My mother always said that’s where soulmates come from,” He says warmly, glancing back up at the sky, “it’s God atoning for keeping the first soulmates eternally apart, and that they watch over all of us now from the sky.” 

Your heart aches, tears pricking at your eyes, “And that’s them?” You nod towards the two bright spots in the night. 

“That’s them.” He nods. 

“Well,” You soften, “I think your mother’s right, I think they’re watching over us.” 

Yunho goes quiet, nodding as he blinks back his own rush of emotions, “I like that idea,” 

“Me too,” You take his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. 

For a moment you both just listen to the waves on the rocks and the wind in the grass, the crackling stretch of the way the night moves around you, but finally he laughs softly, humorlessly, “We should just stay here forever, who cares about being an idol when we could be living on a beach and stargazing,” 

You give him a small smile and squeeze his hand, “I know,” you murmur, “but we can’t avoid it forever,” 

He nods, “I know,”

You turn towards him, “I think we should check on things,” 

His eyes stay on the sky, but he nods, “I think you’re right.” 

You could decide to live in bliss, shut your phone off completely for the few days you’re in Jeju, but there’s no point. The longer you wait to learn the fallout, the more and more the anxiety will eat at you. No amount of orgasms or movie nights or expensive bottles of wine can distract you from that forever. 

The pit in your gut started up again a few hours ago, and you both know it’s time. 

You dip back into the bedroom, grabbing both of your phones from their place on the nightstand and then walk back out onto the patio, setting them both on the little table between you.

“Should we do this?” He asks, nodding towards them. 

You nod, taking a sip of wine for courage before setting it aside, “Let’s get it over with.” 

You both pick up your phones, but Yunho secures his hand onto the leg of your chair and tugs you across the patio floor until your chairs are flush together, and you lean against his arm. 

“Together,” He says in a nervous exhale. 

He presses the side button on his phone and the screen lights up and you watch him grimace when he sees the sheer number of notifications. 

“God,” You breathe. 

“Let’s just,” He swipes them away, hesitating on his home screen to decide what to do, “I don’t know, let’s get the worst of it out of the way.” 

Your stomach tightens as he opens Twitter. 

It’s immediate. His name is a trending topic and reluctantly he clicks on it. 

The top tweet makes his hand tighten on the phone - What are we to do if idols can betray us like this now? Do you expect us to cheer? To care about streaming when we know it’s all for a lie?

Your eyes flick from his phone to his face, but he’s stoic, not a flicker of emotion. 

He scrolls and you take in a flurry of tweets as fast as your eyes will allow. 

Jeong Yunho, I really cared about you and this is what you do? Break my heart like this? 

Was every I love you a lie?

What was he supposed to do? Ignore his soulmate? Be serious, none of you would do that if it were you. 

He’s been lying to us for months. MONTHS.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and you look up. 

“It’s alright,” You murmur, “we knew some people would take it hard.” 

He doesn’t say anything this time, he just nods towards the phone and you feel a tender pull of anxiety inside you as you look back down. 

There, plain as day in a photo gallery, is your picture. 

“Oh,” You breathe, “that was fast,” 

The sound of your soft voice breaks his concentration and he wraps an arm around you, “It’s okay, we’re okay,” 

You nod, but your eyes are still glued to the post. The pictures of you are clearly from moments where you were just any old staff member behind them. You’re working, face passive, half the time wearing a face mask, and almost every photo is grainy since there was never a photographer focused on you. It’s a strange sensation seeing yourself like this, encapsulated in a tweet and picked apart in the comments. 

You reach out a hand and tap the hashtag of Yunho’s name and yours together. 

“Oh, fuck,” Your breath dissipates in an instant, the top post here something you never expected to see. 

It’s a video, two clips side by side, both only a few seconds in length. They’re zoomed in shots from Incheon Airport, the day of your return to Seoul from the Europe tour. Perfectly clipped and positioned in frame is your fall, a loop of yourself being shoulder checked and falling forward to your knees. The second video is the same moment, but a wholly different camera, Yunho in focus, lurching forwards at the moment you drop to your knees, his eyes wide. San stepping into frame cuts off Yunho’s expression. 

It’s a thread, this moment clipped from different angles. Comments from all sides assaulting you at once. 

Ah!! Look he’s so worried!! I’d swoon if Yunho did that for me. 

K-drama in real life?? These men do exist??

This was months ago and they’re only announcing it now? Something weird is going on. 

Seems fake. 

How long has she worked at KQ?? They’ve been lying for years.

Is this her? Does anyone have other pictures? 

I’d kill for him to look at me like that.

You pull back from the phone, covering it with your hand and shaking your head, “I need a second,” 

His lips press to your hairline, “You’re okay,” he assures. 

“I know,” You manage, “I just… how do you stand it?” 

“The comments?” He rubs your back, “mostly I don’t look,” 

“I mean that was two seconds,“ You blink, “and everyone thinks they know something,” 

“They don’t,” He reminds you, “let’s be done,” 

He starts to tuck his phone back, but you shake your head and tug it back into your hands, “No, no, I want to know,” 

“y/n,” He sighs, “don’t, if it’s too much don’t. Things are always worse on the first day something gets announced anyways, we can wait to look,” 

You glance at him, reading his pained expression, but you have to keep going. 

You flip through tweets again, mostly the recycled takes you’ve already seen and reshared pictures. Your heart nearly stops when you scroll far enough to see a thread, higher quality photos of you, ones you recognize from your Instagram. Betrayal burns in your gut knowing that someone in your following list turned over photos of you the second they realized they could make a dollar off it, but that feeling snuffs out like a light as you see the comments, something more panicked coiling in your gut.

y/ln y/fn - What we know about Jeong Yunho’s secret wife. An ongoing thread, will be updated with more information as we learn it. 

Internally you try to scoff at the whole thing - but it’s hard to maintain that level of casual scorn when you actually see the information being shared. 

“Fuck,” Yunho’s hand rests on the back of your neck, “this needs to be reported,” 

Your age, your job title, how long you’ve worked at KQ. The name of your high school, the fact that you have one sister, the brief tidbit that you and Yunho are both originally from Gwangju. Photos of you are attached to each post, group shots with friends where their faces are blurred but not yours, mirror selfies, photos Iseul took of you on various tours when you were sightseeing. 

Yunho lets you keep scrolling despite the tense muscle in his jaw, but he loses any amount of his composure when he sees the top responses to the thread. The first comment has him yanking the phone out of your hands in hopes you didn’t read that far down, but he knows the minute he sees your expression that you took in every word. 

Not pretty, and so trashy with all those tattoos. Totally not his type, he must be so disappointed in his match. 

“Baby, no,” He drops the phone on the table and sinks down into a crouch in front of you, hands on your knees, “don’t listen to them,” 

“I’m okay,” You tell him, trying to work through your initial impulse to burst into tears. 

“They don’t know me,” He looks up at you, his face clear and determined, “they don’t know you, us. They’re jealous, they’re fucking idiots. You’re beautiful, you’re mine, you’re my girl,” 

“Yunho,” You try softly to interrupt, to tell him you really are okay, but he keeps going. 

“I could never be disappointed, never,” His hands rub back and forth over your thighs, “I was so fucking happy the second I realized it was you,” 

“Yunho,” You smile, “I know that, I already know,” 

He cups your cheek, “But,” 

“It hurt for a second,” You admit, “but you’re right, they don’t know us.”

His face softens and he strokes the side of your face gently, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “this is why I didn’t want you to see it. People are so mean for nothing,” 

“I’m a big girl,” You murmur, turning your hand to kiss his palm, cupping it to your cheek as you look back at him, “and they’re just words,” 

He nods. 

“Does it get easier?” You ask him, “People looking into your life like this?” 

He clears his throat lightly, “Honestly?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Not exactly,” He shakes his head, “and I know right now you feel like you need to read it all because it’s about you, but the only thing down that path is heartache.” 

You kiss his palm again, nodding into his touch. 

“The members and I,” He says, “we all learned young that it was better to leave what people say online be. We have staff to handle serious threats or issues, but we don’t search our names or scroll through comments on our posts, it’s better that way.” 

“I can see why,” You sigh. 

He nods, dropping his hands to your hips and pulling you forward on the chair a little until your knees are pressed against his chest, “Listen,” he murmurs, “they’ll talk themselves out, we just have to let them.” 

He squeezes your hips as you say, “Some people said good things,” 

He smiles, “Yeah,” 

“That’s good I guess,”

“Mhm,” He stretches his neck, connecting his mouth to yours in a quick kiss, “it’s really good,”

Deep in your gut you feel a relentless pull, something in your body wanting you badly to keep scrolling, to fall down the rabbit hole and dig into every little thing. You want to defend yourself, to set the story straight, even though you know you shouldn’t. Your eyes flick to the phone again and Yunho’s hands pulse on your thighs. 

“Babe,” His voice is low, serious, “let’s let it go. We saw it, we know enough for now.” 

“Kay,” You breathe, pulling your eyes back to him. 

He cups your cheeks, pulling your lips to his and then stands up, grabbing his phone off the table, “Go get comfortable, okay? Pick another movie, and I’ll see if they have any snacks in the kitchen,” 

“What are you doing?” You ask, studying his face as he types. 

“I need to call Gyu-uk,” He says honestly, “and message Harin. They probably know about the photos, but I want to make sure, and I don’t like that your personal information is getting spread around like that. It’s not long before it’s a phone number or something else, I want them to keep an eye out for your contact information, your address, and be sure we’re good here too.” 

Nerves bubble in your gut, but you nod, “Are you worried?” 

His eyes flick up, unsure how to answer. 

“I’m okay,” You remind him, “I can handle it if you are.” 

His jaw tenses and relaxes, and then he nods, “I’m worried because it’s you, but I didn’t see anything in the posts that made me worry more than I already was,” 

His honesty makes your shoulders relax and you nod, “Okay,” 

“Alright,” He breathes, dialing on his phone and leaning down to kiss the crown of your hair, “I love you. I’ll just be a few minutes,” 

He pads off into the house, the phone pressed to his ear. 

Alone on the patio, you settle back into the deck chair and draw your knees up, resting your head in your hands. The breeze from the ocean makes you shiver a little, but the quiet of the night is comforting. You can hear Yunho’s voice in the background, not enough to really make out his words, but enough to still feel him close. 

Your hands itch to pick your phone up and dive back into everything, but you trust him when he says the end of that road is heartache. It’s a fine line between curiosity and obsessive compulsion and you’re a little afraid you won’t recognize it when you step over it if you let yourself look again. 

Another minute passes, the niggling impulse still pressing at your mind, and with a sigh you grab your phone anyways.

You’ll stay off social media, that’s for sure, but a full day without your phone still leaves you curious about what’s going on in the outside world. 

The first thing you see is a notification from Instagram letting you know you have 719 new follower requests and you swipe it away with a little burst of panic. You avoid Twitter entirely, and open up your texts. There’s too many to wrap your mind around. Messages from friends you haven’t spoken to in years, a few distant relatives, and you mark those as read and dismiss them with ease.

Iseul sent you a simple message to let you know she was here when you finally looked at your phone again, and you resolve to call her tomorrow. You have kind and encouraging messages from all of the members, which warms something in your chest, knowing that they’re supporting you both, but it’s Hana’s texts that you open up and read in full. 

She’s written a string of messages, all separated by random amounts of time. Some hours, some minutes, and you smile as you catch up on her stream of consciousness. 

Yunho’s post was perfect. If you’re reading this, put your phone down and get back to your honeymoon. 

Fuck anyone who says you two aren’t meant to be. 

This industry is insane, you were right. I’m about to ask Em to start hexing people. 

Sorry - I shouldn’t be telling you about that bad shit. If you’re looking at your phone you’ve already seen it, I didn’t mean to add to that. 

Okay wait - there’s a bunch of good stuff too. I feel like I can tell you about that? These girls on Twitter are Yunho fans, they’re saying you’re really pretty and this whole story is like that one K-Drama? The one with Lee Dong Wook - the one you like. 

“I bet he’s so in love with her if he made KQ announce it” - These girls are good.

You burst out laughing at that, and then keep reading. 

Okay you’re probably having a great day with your new husband and that’s exactly what you should be doing, but let me know when you do see these. I just want to know you’re both doing okay. 

OH AND

Other idols are commenting on Yunho’s post. You’ve got a lot of people in your corner, so stay strong. 

Anyways text me when you can. 

Her last text is a few hours old, and you wonder if Em physically removed the phone from her hands to keep her from frantic scrolling and deep diving. You’ll call her tomorrow too, but for now you tap out a simple message. 

We’re doing our best to stay offline, so just seeing these. All okay here, just focused on enjoying our time and pretending the internet isn’t tearing us apart. I’ll call you tomorrow, but I love you so much. Thanks for being my best sister.

It’s a little joke you two always used to say to each other, calling each other your best sister even though you only ever had each other. All the times you had to be there for each other when no one else would have your back, all the times it was just the two of you against everything. It’s been a long time since you’ve said it, maybe since you both lived with your parents, and you hope she reads it and knows exactly what you’re trying to say. 

You let your phone drop back into your lap and take a deep breath, looking back up at the stars. You’re not a praying person, you don’t believe in saints, but if Yunho’s mother is right, you think you could believe in stars. 

With a silent thought up to the constellation above you, you make your peace with the chaos surrounding you both, and then you take your wine glasses with you as you walk back into the warm house, following the sound of Yunho’s voice. 

As you round the corner to the kitchen you hear his hums through the receiver, acknowledging whatever Gyu-uk is saying on the other end. He’s leaning up against the far wall, his head hanging as he listens, nodding to himself, and you smile at the sight of him. 

For a split second, the image of him in this kitchen is more domestic than being actually married. If you forget about the circumstances, he just looks like a husband, your husband, in what could be your kitchen. You’ve known him for years, but he’s never looked more like a man than he does right now, dressed casually in gray sweatpants and a black tank top, his bare feet on the kitchen tile, wedding ring on his finger, barefaced, his black hair messy and unstyled. 

“Well that’s good,” Yunho says into the phone and you wait in the doorway to avoid interrupting. 

He listens some more, nodding to himself again. 

“She’s good,” He smiles, his eyes still downcast, “she’s handling it better than we did as rookies,” 

Warmth curls in your belly at his words. 

Yunho laughs at whatever Gyu-uk says, straightening up and catching sight of you finally. He smiles at you as he replies to Gyu-uk, “That’s for sure,” 

Now that he’s seen you, you step into the kitchen properly and set the wine on the counter, moving around the island towards him. 

“We will,” Yunho says, reaching for you as you get closer, “thank you,” 

As he tugs you into his chest you hear Gyu-uk’s reply, “We’re handling it, don’t worry, Yunho.” 

“I’ll try,” Yunho says honestly, dropping his lips to your hair, “thank you,” 

“Alright, kid,” Gyu-uk says with a sigh, “I have to go. Stay positive, and go spend some time with your wife, okay?”

“Mm,” Yunho acknowledges, and the line clicks dead. 

You give it a few minutes, letting the silence stretch, but then you nudge him, “We’re okay?”

He nods, head bobbing against yours. 

“What did he say?” You ask. 

“The usual,” He admits, “they’re taking care of it, Harin’s team is already aware, we should stay offline and enjoy the sunshine.” 

“Did you tell him it rained all day?” 

Yunho snorts a soft laugh, “I should have,” 

With your arms wrapped around him, you rub his back and press a kiss to his chest, “Hana said there’s a lot of positive comments too, and a lot of other idols saying supportive things on your post,” 

He nods, “Harin says the response is better than expected,” 

“That’s good,” 

“Did you talk to Hana, how is she? How’s Em?” He asks. 

“Just caught up on her texts,” You pull out your phone and open the messages back up, passing it over to him, “I’ll call her tomorrow.” 

His eyes skim over the messages and you watch a smile spread over his face, “I love your sister,” 

“Same,” 

Yunho nods, kissing your forehead as he passes back the phone. 

You sigh into him, “Let’s do more movies, let’s relax for the night.” 

“Just us,” He murmurs. 

“Just us.” 

He holds you a little longer, needing you close after everything, “We’re going to be alright, I think,” he finally says. 

“Yeah?” You nod into his chest, your face tucked against the warmth of his soulmark.

“I have you,” He murmurs, emotion thick in his throat, “my heart, that’s all that matters,” 

Tears well in your eyes, and let your lips linger on his chest. 

He rocks you gently, whispering promises against your hair, nothing in the world so important as his skin on yours, his body and your body right where they’re supposed to be. 

When the wave of emotion passes, you leave your phones in the kitchen, and spend the night just the two of you. The couch piled high with blankets as you cuddle close, catching up on all the movies you’ve missed constantly touring. You stay up late, what would be too late on any other night, but tomorrow is just another empty day of possibility. You fall asleep with him on a couch so big it wouldn’t even fit through the door of your tiny studio apartment, your lives completely different than they were this morning. 

In the morning you wake up in his arms. 

The sun shining brightly through the wide windows, the storm having washed away any trace of clouds. 

It’s been a while since you’ve woken up without fear or anxiety or creeping loneliness, but somehow, you both know that part of your lives is over, and with deliberate slowness, you stretch into the day.

You did the hard thing. Now, you just get to live. 

With a new lightness in the bond, you leave the house. 

Without masks or disguises, you walk down the street hand in hand. You take the little path to the sandy beach a few blocks over from the house and walk down to the water together. Despite the unseasonable warmth, it’s still quiet, just a few older couples walking along the shore. There’s not a soul around that would recognize him, but you still feel weightless, free. 

At the water’s edge, Yunho wraps his arms around you from behind, his hand in yours, wedding rings nestled together.

To anyone watching you’re sure you look like just another young couple in love. 

In a way, that’s all you really were from the start.

Your heart and his, one steady beat. 

Everything else, background noise.

No world but yours.

No wonder but yours.

[faithisyours]

Blanket Fort

Vi X Fem!Reader

Ch 3 of The List

Other chapters: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 4

Summary: you and Vi build a blanket fort

cw: pure, unadulterated fluff

word count: 1.4k

an: Howdy y'all! I humbly present chapter 3. Hope you enjoy it. Next chapter I'm gonna keep a surprise, but it includes some familiar faces ;) It also might take me a wee bit longer to write, but I’ll try to get it out within the week. And a big thanks again to my beta reader @mythsretriever, check her out, she’s pretty cool. Also, I’ve been requested to start a tag list, so let me know if you want to be added! And finally, if you have any requests for fics or ideas for this one, or just want to chat, I’m all ears! (Please, I want more friends on this app). Men & minors dni

The apartment windows rattled against the heavy rain and rolling thunder raging outside. Lightning lit up the stormy evening sky, casting flashes of light into the apartment. You and Vi were hauled up because of this, but it didn’t matter much to you. You were happy to be home with the love of your life for a night off.

You were in the kitchen making dinner (it was your turn), Vi sat watching you from the kitchen island. You were making soup, one of your specialties, because Vi was feeling a bit under the weather, having been fighting a small cold for the past couple days (more than likely caused by the fact that she had just been naked in a lake on a chilly fall night with you a little less than a week ago). You felt slightly guilty, considering you were the one that had taken her to go skinny dipping, as well as the fact that you had not gotten sick at all. You resolved to make her soup; it was the least you could do.

Vi was still keeping the list close, although she had shared some of her ideas and asked you for some more recently. It was a good thing, too, because you had started to think she was instead just writing a novel.

You were adding the last of the spices to the pot of soup in front of you when Vi asked, “Have you ever made a blanket fort?”

Caught slightly off guard, but recovering quickly you answered, “I have…���

“I know it’s not a very teenager thing to do, but I’ve never made one and I added it to the list a while ago,” she said, eying you hesitantly.

“... so you want to make a blanket fort?” you asked, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“Ya, and I thought maybe today, since the weath-”

“Sold!” You cut her off.

“Dinner first, of course,” Vi reassured.

You shot her a smile over your shoulder. “Of course.”

You ate at the kitchen table, the soup being accompanied by garlic bread. Vi practically moaned around her fist bite, which made your insides feel fuzzy. You talked about upcoming plans, errands you both needed to run, shows you wanted to watch together; just mundane, domestic things. When you both were done eating, Vi helped you clean up the kitchen, growing more and more antsy by the second. She was practically jumping off the walls by the time you finished wiping the counter down.

“Hmm,” you looked around the kitchen, tapping your chin with your finger, “I feel like I forgot to do something.” Of course, you had forgotten nothing, and instead were prolonging Vi’s anticipation for your own enjoyment. She caught on when you couldn’t keep your sly smile contained.

“You forgot nothing, it’s blanket fort time!” she practically screamed. She grabbed you by the arm, pulling you towards the living room, but eventually stopped, realizing she didn’t actually know what she was doing. She looked around, looking a little hopeless, then turned her eyes on you. “Okay, tell me what we need,” she prompted, her hands open in front of her, ready to grab the first thing you say.

“Well, we’re gonna need blankets, sheets probably, the kitchen chairs, pillows, maybe some books, and the broom, probably.” She stared at you blankly for a second, processing, then leapt into action. Vi ran in the direction of the linen closet, so you went over to the kitchen to collect the chairs.

You were arranging the chairs in front of the couch, two on each side facing away from the space in the middle, when Vi came back with more than an armful of blankets and sheets. It looked as though she had ransacked the entire apartment, taking blankets from anywhere including your bed. You giggled at her overzealousness, and moved quickly to help take some of the blankets she had gathered.

“Looks like you found every blanket and sheet we own,” you said, amused. “That's good, though. We’ll probably need them all.” You set them down in a pile in front of the area you had designated to be the floor of the fort, which was in front of the couch and directly in line with the TV. Vi surveyed the space, nodding, then looked towards you for the next step. “Okay, first we should cover these chairs with sheets to make our walls. And we might need something heavy like books to keep them in place,” you said. It had been quite some time since you built a blanket fort, but it was all starting to come back to you now.

Vi got right to it, pulling one of the sheets from the pile and draping it over each pair of chairs. You went over to the coffee table (which you had earlier pushed against the wall to make enough space for the fort) and grabbed the books that sat atop it. You put a book on each seat, which held the sheets in place and prevented them from slipping. It was all coming together nicely.

Catching on, Vi asked, “Should we put some blankets down on the floor to make it comfy?” you nodded, happy she was starting to get it. Arranging a sheet down first over top of the area rug, you then layed down two comforters and lined the makeshift walls with pillows, making sure the biggest and comfiest went against the foot of the couch. You both added some extra blankets to snuggle up with once you were settled in the fort later. And then it came time for the roof. Working together, you pulled sheets across the chairs, using multiple to make sure there were no gaps and to ensure the fort was dark inside. Adding some finishing touches, like some electric candles and a small camping lantern, as well as a couple more pillows and blankets, the fort was complete. It wasn’t by any means the best blanket fort ever made, but it got the job done, and by the grin on Vi’s face, you'd say it was basically perfect.

“Ready to get in?” you asked Vi, who didn’t even give you an answer before launching herself into the fort. You couldn’t contain your giggle as you followed her in, albeit more calmly. It was a tight fit, but curling yourself up around Vi created some wiggle room. Vi threw a couple blankets across your tangled legs and settled into the pillows, pulling you closer by the waist.

The top of the sheet roof plus the angle you were positioned made for a perfect view of the TV, which was exactly what you had hoped for.

“Want to watch a movie?” you both asked simultaneously, which then made you laugh. So predictable.

“I chose last time, so it’s your turn,” Vi offered.

You thought for a second. “Pride and Prejudice (2005),” you said. Vi had already thumbed through and pulled it up on the screen.

“So predictable,” she whispered, shaking her head as a crooked smile appeared.

You gave her a playful shove in the side. “You know I like the classics. And anyway, Mr. Darcy reminds me of you.”

She scoffed. “How so?”

“Well, he’s proud, loyal, charming in a goofy way, and I find him rather pretty, especially when he smiles. And you share all of those traits,” you said. “But I will say your hands are much hotter than his.”

Vi attempted to play off your words, but a small blush crept across her cheeks. “Alright, let’s just start the movie,” she said, nodding towards the TV.

You kissed Vi’s shoulder, smiling up at her. “This was a great idea.” you said, and then proceeded to sneeze.

“Oh no, I gave you my sickness, didn’t I?” Vi looked at you apologetically. You just shook your head, snuggling back into her and turning your attention to the movie. It didn’t matter to you if Vi got you sick. You’d happily get her germs if it meant getting to also snuggle up with her to watch a movie while it stormed outside.

Eventually, though, and rather predictably, the combination of the movie, the storm, Vi’s warm body beneath you, and the comfort of the fort all lulled you into sleep. It looked like you’d be sleeping in the living room tonight. And there was nowhere you’d rather be.

Ko-fi

Tag list✨: @usuck @saqqarasdissent

[gilverrwrites]

Against The Wall (/Bathroom Door)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/AFAB! Reader

Feminine pronouns used.

Plot: Dean and the reader are unable to keep their hands off each other during dinner. They sneak off together for a 'quickie' in the restroom.

Rating: M/18+

This is a re-written/edited fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted tumblr. If I recall correctly, it was originally a request for 'against the wall' sex.

Please remember: to be kind to yourself.

Content: Swearing, (really cheesy) flirting, established romantic/sexual relationship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, clothed sex, size difference, biting, (non-sexual) peeing.

Excerpt: "Give me rough and ready any day.”  “Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

“Why are we staying here? Why didn’t we check in to that place down the road?” You groaned. You couldn’t help but feel like a sore thumb, as you needlessly examined the well-dressed wait staff and their high society patrons. If the side eyes, and tight smiles they shot back at you were anything to go by, they also thought your table stood out.

Attempting to avert your gaze, you glanced over the menu and had to stifle a gasp. Tired and sore from the hunt, you’d collectively decided that it would be faster and easier to just dine at the hotel’s restaurant, but $37 for a burger, FRIES NOT INCLUDED! Daylight robbery! In hindsight, you wished you’d bothered to walk the extra 10 minutes to the nearest greasyspoon, just on principle. Besides, the motel down the road was next door to a pizza joint, double whammy. “It would have been a helluva lot cheaper.”

“Because it was full up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate somewhere a little more sophisticated.” Dean replied. If the grin on his face, and the hand on your thigh was anything to go by, he didn’t really care where he was, he was just happy for the food and the company. And to be done with the ghouls you’d been hunting down all week. He winked at you as he leaned in and snatched the menu from you, and you giggled when his brows shot up. Likely also outraged at the price of a burger, WITHOUT FRIES.

“Deano, sophisticated; we, are, not.” You stated as matter-of-factly as you could, trying to ignore his hand as it inched higher and higher up your leg.

“Speak for yourself Sweetheart.” He quipped, locking his eyes with yours and wiggling his eyebrows, “I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life.”

“HA.” You deadpanned, but he didn’t budge. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a purr. “Well, not me. Give me rough and ready any day.”

“Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him, had the sound of Sam clearing his throat, signifying his discomfort, not distracted you both. Embarrassed at having forgotten his presence you both leaned back in your chairs. Dean promptly placed both his hands on the table and shot Sam a very unserious thrown.

“Sorry, Sam.” You extended a brief apology and the three of you sat in awkward silence until someone came to take your drink orders.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” You announced shortly after the waiter had left. “10 bucks says this place has attendants.” You joked as you stand from the table and walk away.

“Wait up, I gotta take a leak too!” Dean declared. “If they come back for food, just order for his. No green shit.” He instructed his brother before wrapping an arm over your shoulder and following very, very close behind you. You really did need to pee, but if Dean had something else in mind, you wouldn’t object.

Together you manoeuvred your way through the labyrinth of busy tables and ‘atmospherically’ dim hallways until you found a vestibule of doors labelled ‘la toilettes’.

Dean held you at arms-length as he poked his head through one and looked around. From what you could see, it seemed to be a single occupancy bathroom. “Score!” Dean turned to face you as he backed the rest of his body into ‘la toilette’, pulling you in with him. “Plus, no attendant, you owe me 10 bucks.”

The moment you heard the lock click behind you he pounced, arms either side of you, fingers against your scalp, caging you between his firm chest and the door. Your lips crashed together; a shiver ran up your spine as he groaned into your mouth. It wasn’t a soft kiss, it was harsh, demanding, just how you liked it. You snaked your hand under his shirt and ghosted your fingers up until they rested on his chest, there you could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

Briefly, you felt high on the effect you had on him. The moment abruptly ended when he snatched your waist, twisting you around, and pushing you face first against the cold wood.

In this new position, you could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your ass, instinctively you reached an arm back to rub against him.

“F-fuck.” Dean spluttered, grinding into your open palm. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You replied, “But can we get a move on please.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He rasped, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your shoulder. Strong hands begin roaming your body. One hand skirts along the curves of your upper body before gliding back up, beneath your shirt, under your bra and begins squeezing at your breast. His calloused fingers pinch at your sensitive nipple, rolling it between the tips of his fingers.

His bite softens, and his tongue flicks against the tender skin before he begins to ghost his lips over your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, marking. Meanwhile, his other hand deftly works on your belt, whipping it open in no time, he nabs the hem of your jeans and yanks down, forcing them down to your knees, underwear following soon after.

You sucked in a breath and arched your back against him when you felt a finger begin running against your slit. A second finger quickly joined, and you withered at the feel of his coarse digits splitting your lips open. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit, sending a shockwave through your body, two fingers gently prodded at your entrance, but he didn’t push in straight away.

Needlessly you rocked against his hand, hoping to garner some friction against your clit, trying to sink yourself onto his fingers, but you just couldn’t quite hit the right spot.

“Dean stop!” You whined. “I need you.”

“Need me?” He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and he was lucky you were too needy to care. “Need me to what?”

“Need you inside me.” You whispered back to him, cheeks ablaze. “Need you to fuck me.”

You felt your hole slowly spread open as his fingers inched in, stretching you around them, but no sooner had it started when he halted again.

“Dean, please!” You begged, and seemingly that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Within seconds his long fingers were buried inside you. Leaving no time to adjust he started pumping in and out, scissoring your insides, while the heel of his hand massaged your sweet spot, both actions sending an unbearable pressure through your body.

It wasn’t long before he slid in a third, and you were seeing stars, panting and rutting as a tight knot surged in your core, your climax was fast approaching, tittering on the edge when Dean abruptly pulled himself from you.

An exasperated cry leaves your lips as you attempt to reach for him, to pull him back but you’re barely able to brush your fingers against his arm. Accepting failure, you spin around to face him, ready to pout at him, to demand an explanation but before you open your mouth his hands are cupping your thighs. He lifts you off your feet, forcing your arched back against the door once again. With some shuffling he managed to bring your knees up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders, his face embedded in your concealed cleavage.

“Hold still.” He instructs, balancing your weight between one hand and the door, as he makes quick work of his belt, jeans, and boxers. You bite your lip, repressing any instinct to wither or jerk as his cock springs free.

“Ready?” He asks, his half-lidded, lusty green eyes gaze up at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

“Ready, and very, very eagerly waiting.” You confirm.

You suck in a breath as he enters you all at once, relaxing his grip on your body slightly so you sink down, taking every single inch of his shaft.

“Fuck.” He shudders against your body, his eyes rolling back already. His voice to low and guttural. “You feel so good. So fucking wet.”

Hands gripped tight against the wall for support, ankles firmly angled against his shoulders, you roll your body, grinding your pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dig tight into your thighs, surely leaving bruises as he savours the feeling.

“Fuck me, Dean.” You plead, rocking on his dick once more. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How could I say no to that.” He groans, adjusting his grip on you, slipping his hands up until they’re wrapped tight around the back of your knees. He slowly leans back, sliding his cock out until only the tip remains inside, before brutally slamming back in. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, slow, hard, and so fucking deep.

If he registers the creak of the old wood supporting your back, he clearly didn’t care. Neither of you had really made an effort to disguise what you were doing, why start now?

You were soon twitching at the feel of each thrust, murmuring his name. You didn’t expect to last long after he’d brought you so close once already, and you were right. He rebuilt that tension almost instantly, you felt dizzy, hot and wet. Barely able to feel anything but the throbbing, burning heat between your legs. With one last strangled moan, you tightened around him as you reached your climax.

Dean soon followed behind, the feel of your cunt tightening around his dick setting him off. His muscles clenched around your body, and his pace slowed as he released inside you, grunting with each spurt.

Flushed and panting you both remained in your positions as you came back down. Cum began to seep out of you as Dean softens.

“That was….” Dean pursed his lips as he searched for the right word. A smile spreads across his lips as he seemingly finds it. “That was, awesome.”

“That was awesome.” You reiterated as you began lowering your body. Dean's firm hands steadied your feet return to the floor. He reached down to pull your jeans up for you, but you stopped him, shooing his hands away.

“I really do need to pee!” You answered his puzzled look as you waddled over to the toilet.

“Right!” He laughed, as he pulled up his own trousers. “Plus, you should always pee after sex, right?”

You nodded affirmatively as you did your business. There was something weirdly intimate actually urinating in front of your boyfriend without shame. You really did have nothing to hide, he knew every gross detail.

“We should head back out there.” You said as you finished up. Readjusting your clothes and washing your hands. “Sam will probably think we fell in or something.”

“Nah, he may look it, but he's not that dumb.” Dean joked. “He better have ordered something good, I need more than rabbit food after that.”

“Agreed! Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?” He answered as he drapes his arm over you.

You press your head into his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. “Round two after dinner?”

“If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”

[keigotakamiii]

Right! So hello, how you doin? Just came across your page, I love your writing :))

can I pretty please request a Hawks x model reader, they’re already in a relationship but there relationship is semi private, semi rumours because no one has ever actually seen the two in the same room but thing they would have chemistry if they were.

maybe Hawks accompanies reader to a photo shoot? Complimenting her left right and centre in good old Hawk fashion.

but you can add or remove from this at your will xxx

oouh this had me in a CHOKEHOLD

i didn't know what else to do with myself other than write something spicy

let me know if you want me to redo it or change up some things i will do so just for you !

Off the Record

Keigo was used to keeping secrets.

Being the Number Two Pro Hero meant keeping his private life locked up tight, and that included his relationship with you—a rising star in the modeling industry. The two of you had agreed to keep things quiet, to avoid the media storm that would come if people found out. He was fine with that. At least, that’s what he told himself.

But today? Today was a different kind of challenge.

“Come with me to the shoot,” you had said that morning, flashing him that sweet smile that always made his heart skip a beat. “It’s private, just a small team. No press, no outsiders.”

He should’ve known better.

Now, sitting off to the side of the studio, Keigo was doing everything in his power to keep his cool. His jaw clenched as he watched you move effortlessly in front of the camera, posing in one barely-there swimsuit after another, your skin glowing under the soft lights. The photographer directed you, adjusting angles and lighting, completely oblivious to the way Keigo’s golden eyes darkened with every teasing tilt of your hips.

Shit.

He wasn’t the jealous type. He trusted you. But this? Watching you smirk at the camera, arch your back just right, run your hands down your own curves in a way that had his mouth going dry? That was a different story.

His wings twitched, feathers ruffling as he shifted in his seat. His fingers curled into fists against his thighs. He was overheating, but he refused to look away.

Then you caught his eye.

And you knew.

Your lips curled into the faintest smirk before you turned back to the camera, striking a new pose—one that was definitely not helping his situation.

That was it.

The second the shoot wrapped, he was on his feet, guiding you out with a firm hand on your lower back. You barely had time to say goodbye to the team before he ushered you into the car, shutting the door behind you with a sharp click.

The moment you were alone, the air between you shifted.

Keigo exhaled slowly, his head dropping back against the seat. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white. “Do you have any idea what you just did to me?” he muttered, voice rough.

You bit your lip, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

His golden eyes snapped to yours, dark and burning. In an instant, he was leaning over, one strong hand gripping your thigh, his breath hot against your ear.

“You wanna play that game?” he murmured, voice thick with restraint. “Fine. But you’re not getting out of this car until I’ve had my fill of you.”

His lips crashed into yours, hungry and desperate, his hands trailing fire across your skin. The windows fogged up almost instantly, the city beyond them forgotten.

After all, this? This was off the record.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dearly Beloved 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, allusions to abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After spurning one too many suitors, you wind up with the worst person you've ever met.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: inspired by the ask about a reader that wears skirts all the time but Lloyd discovers she wears shorts too and it challenged to get past them.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe the wand against your lashes one last time and shove it back into the tube. You sit up as you check the overall effect. Nothing too much. You like a dewy look, natural but glowing. You have to at least look like you care about today. 

The knock at the door is like clockwork. You’ve done this too many times. You expected your parents to give up by now. All the men did. 

You yawn and set the mascara back in your makeup case. “Come in,” you call dully. 

You watch your mother enter in the mirror. She’s in one of her stiff tweed jackets and a matching skirt. If she took a few inches off the skirt, it might be cute. 

“Waiting on you,” she tuts and crosses her arms. 

“Oh, are you?” You shut the case and stand. “I must’ve lost track of time.” 

You stand and smooth your dress. The little bow accoutrements long the shallow slit of the short skirt add a touch of sparkly to the navy blue. You’ve paired the dress with beige heels and thick gold hoop earrings. You look exactly to her standards and yet there’s disappointment in her eyes. 

“He will not like you being late,” she girds as she crosses the room and reaches for you. You stop her from touching your hair. She always has to fix what doesn’t need to be fixed. 

“Mother, it’s not on purpose. I only want to look my best. As you said,” you tilt your head coyly. 

“Don’t,” she frees herself from your grasp and points at you. “I need you to start taking this seriously. You are twenty-five.” 

“An old spinster,” you sigh dramatically, “how many is this now? Eighteen? You think this one will bite?” 

“If you would try, perhaps. Don't think you are so clever,” she bristles. 

“Mother, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me too. I’ve been on my best behaviour but you simply can’t force love,” you insist. 

“Dear, I do not know why you do this. Your father will blow an aneurysm if you keep this up,” she hisses. 

“Oh yes, the steam came out of his ears last time,” you chuckle. 

“It isn’t funny. This is our legacy. You are our legacy.” 

Your smile falls. Why you? It was her choice not to have any more heirs. If they are so important, she should have, right? Why must it be you? 

“Mother, can it not wait longer? A few years?” 

“This is not a seller’s market.” 

“And I’m not property. I’m a person. Your daughter.” 

“Mm, well, a few more years and there would be concern. For... fertility,” she sniffs. 

“Yes, I am cattle. Forgive my mistake.” 

“Please, I am not—if you tried to get along, you might find a good match,” she snips. 

“They are all snobs and terribly boring. I’ve tried.” 

“You are late. You are catty. And you roll your eyes,” she sneers. “How about a smile and a ‘yes, mother’.” 

You hold back your agitation. You get your stubbornness from her but that only seems to irk her. She didn’t raise you to be a pushover but that’s exactly what she’s telling you to be. 

“Yes, mother,” you smile and flutter your lashes, “I will try to increase my price so that you and father can go on your....” you count silently on your fingers, “twentieth honeymoon?” 

“You--” she begins and makes a fist. You lean away. She glares at you. “Rein it in.” 

She spins and stomps to the door. You exhale as your cheeks pinch painfully. At least she thought not to mess up your makeup. 

You follow her into the hallway. You’re silent. You know better than to keep on when she gets to this point. You tell that crying little girl to go back to her corner and once more paint on a smile. 

You follow her down the curling stairs and your heels echo through the foyer. She takes you to the sitting room and steps back to let your through first. You barely look at the man sat in the centre of the settee. 

“She’s here. Apologies for the wait, she was having a bad hair day,” she preens. There’s silence. “Well, then I should leave you to introduce yourselves.” 

She pulls the sliding wood doors from another era. You huff, “as if. My hair is perfect.” 

The man laughs. His sole scuffs as he stands. He says your name. 

“Mm, let’s not pretend here. We both know what this is.” 

“Straight to the point,” he remarks with a snort. “Should we exchange measurements and decide?” 

It takes you a moment to get his meaning. That’s disgusting. You face him with lip curled. “I think I can guess pretty easily,” you look him up and down. You arch a brow. “Oh, well...” 

His lips thin and he squints. The crinkles around his eyes deepen. You want to wipe off that silly mustache above his lip. 

“You’re a bit older than I expected.” You shrug. 

He puts a hand on his hip, “experience. Means I know what I’m doing.” 

You smile again, only to keep from laughing. You dig a heel into the floor and check your nails. “Sure, well, we should waste about half an hour and then we can send for my mother.” 

He clucks. You look at him, your elbow against your side as you keep your hand up. His brows knit then lift. “Lloyd Hansen.” He offers his hand, “billionaire, with a whole lot more coming to me.” 

“Right,” you look at his hand and turn away. You strut around him, “look, I’m really not looking to get married. I’m just doing what they tell me so I wouldn’t bother. Save your energy.” 

You flop onto the settee and hook one knee over the other. You rock your foot as you cross your arms. He slithers after you, stopping by the arm rest. 

“Oh, I got lots of energy,” he scoffs. “Well, half-an-hour, I can think of a few ways to pass the time. I’m not really the sort to wait until marriage.” 

You grimace at him, “no thank you.” 

“Well, aren’t you a treat? I heard about you but I thought all those guys were cucks,” he snorts. 

“Heard about me?” You repeat. 

“Sure, frigid bitch it what they’re saying,” he snickers and turns to sit beside you, “but they didn’t say anything about those legs.” 

He stretches his arm across the back of the couch above you. He tries to drop it onto your shoulders and you catch his wrist and shove him away. He chuckles again and tugs on your hair. You swat him. 

“Hey, no touching,” you snarl. 

“I like this,” he pinches the little ribbon button along the skirt, “it’s cute. Nice little peek of thigh.” 

Before you can stop him, he shoves his hand through slit of the skirt and squeezes our thigh. You yipe and you grab his other arm. He pushes up against your shorts. He frowns. 

“What?” He pinches the edge along your thigh. 

“Chafing,” you push him off of you. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m here to buy. I wanna know what I’m paying for,” he sneers. 

“Ew, ew,” you shove him again and stand, storming away as you shiver in repulsion. “Ew. Firstly, you’re too old. Second, your pervy little mustache is gross. Third, you’re nasty.” 

“You haven’t really given me a chance. One, I might have a few extra years under my belt but that means I know what I’m doing,” you face him as he holds up a thumb. “Two, this mustache is there for her pleasure. Yours, if you play your cards right. Three,” his other hand rests on his thigh as you glimpse the twitching in his cream coloured pants, “tell me how nasty to be and I’ll gladly fuck that rod out of your ass.” 

“Wow, you are repugnant,” you scoff. 

“I got some extra flavour,” he leans forward, his elbows on his legs as he clasps his hands together. “Those other guys, I know they came in here like simps in their bowties, tryna lube you up with those puppy dog eyes. Well, I’m here for business. I don’t have time to waste on games and you don’t seem to like playing. It’s perfect.” 

“It couldn’t be less awful,” you assure him. 

“Right, I’m sure you’re having the time of your life with Mommy Dearest there. Does she have wire hangers? Don’t answer that,” he laughs and sits back, leaning his arm on the cushioned rest. “At least I’m honest. I’m not gonna sit here and lick your asshole. Not figuratively. I got shit to get done, namely, getting married, and you seem, well, to put it in your language ‘so over it’,” he puts on a trite voice. 

“I’m over you,” you insist. 

“I don’t mind a girl on top,” he winks. 

“Ugh, maybe you should meet a few divorcees. They might just be desperate enough.” 

“Tried that game. She cried after. Was really awkward.” 

You glare at him. He really is gross. You’re not a prude by any measure but this is supposed to be an introduction. He’s supposed to at least pretend to be gentleman. 

“I’m done with this conversation, so you can entertain yourself,” you dismiss with a flick of your fingers. 

He chortles as you turn your back to him. You clomp over to the window and distract yourself with the hedges and the sparrows rustling within. Your mother will be upset but he’s the last of the...however many men you’d choose. 

“No wonder you got them lined up, sweet cheeks, you fill out that dress real nice,” his soles scuff on the floor. “It’s cute but I’d suggest something with a bit less at the top. I’m sure you got a nice balance.” 

You ignore him and shake your head at the panes. You listen to his slow approach. You tense as you sense him right behind you. 

“You’re not the first I’ve met either, you know? The rest of them are so... flighty. The last one had a list of demands. A fucking bride price. Chanel everything. Boring,” he says. 

You wince as he touches your back. He drags his fingers up your dress and you snarl as you go rigid. He gets even closer and hums. 

“Let me pet the kitty and then you can decide. You really can’t make a clear decision if you don’t know how a man--” he snakes his hand around your neck and you dip your chin. You bite down on the webbing between his thumb and index. 

He yowls as you clamp down on him. You let him go and he staggers away. You face him and watch him with a smug smirk as he shakes his hand. He cradles it and hisses. 

“You little...” he snarls through his teeth as his eyes blaze at you. 

“I warned you already not to touch me,” you insist. “The next time, they’ll be blood.” 

He holds up his hand and examines the red bite mark. He scowls and lowers it. His glare meets yours hotly. He squares his shoulders and narrows his eyes. 

“Oh, baby girl, you don’t know what you’ve done,” he spits. 

He turns and strides to the door. You cackle as he tries to pull them inward first, then figures to slide them apart. You stay as you are as you hear his footsteps reverberate around the foyer. You turn to face the window again. 

He marches down the long stone walk toward the arched driveway. You’ve never chased one out before. To be honest, all the others were too shy to get that close. He waves at Carmen, the valet. You tisk between your teeth and shrug as you spin back. 

Your mom will probably let her fists fly now but it will be worth it, so long as you never have to see that man again.