#I am deeply sorry for how I've acted

[musical-chick-13]

This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:

Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.

[ranvwoop]

i try to avoid my acc being Just vntposting . in this world. but man is it going

[sheerioswifties]

.

[deathbxnny]

Loved your writing of arcane characters saying things they regret during an argument. Would you be willing to do a version with Jayce, Viktor and Silco? I apologize if you don't prefer to write about these characters, you can ignore this

Arcane men saying things they'll regret during an argument. | Viktor, Jayce, Silco x Gn!Reader

Oh, I absolutely am willing to do that, Anon!! These are going to be pretty irredeemable, though, so there is not going to be a part two to this... anyways, enjoy!!<3

Content: Season 2 spoilers!!, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, break ups, swearing, gaslighting, toxic behavior, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

"This... isn't you anymore, Viktor. A-And I refuse to keep lying to myself like this either!" You hissed out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. You were losing your mind in this compound of his, unable to understand how seemingly no one was able to recognize how wrong everything was. People who were "healed" by him weren't the same after. They turned into robotic and uncanny husks of their old selves.

A terrifying sight that unnerved you deeply. And only you here.

The nail in the coffin was perhaps the skeptical appearance of Councilor Salo. Never in your life had you ever seen him give a damn about anyone but himself. He lived a life of riches and materialism, far from the selfless and minimalistic lifestyle found here. But after your boyfriend healed him of his inability to walk, he suddenly preached the same ideals that everyone else did.

Peace, love, and community.

Those were the important pillars of this idyllic place Viktor had created, and yet you couldn't see past the clear red flags that weaved themselves in their white attire. You were never much of a genius like he was, but it didn't take much brainpower to understand that this was not a great place to be in. No matter how hard he attempted to convince you of that.

"... I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm afraid I can not follow your reasoning for this claim. I am myself... just someone greater. More meaningful. Isn't that beautiful?" His voice was so gentle and patient in comparison to yours. Something that wasn't unusual to him. But the way he used that tone now made you sick. "Terrifying is a better word, actually... Why can't you see that this is just wrong? You're not healing anyone-" "-But I am. Look around you. Is that not enough for you to finally believe me, my love? I want to create a better world... one in which we can live freely together." Your mind spun, his words ringing in your head dangerously. And you hated every second of it.

This isn't the man you loved anymore. He must have died that fateful day when the sky fell from above, and he covered you with his body to save you. His last act of kindness as your boyfriend and lover before he perished and left behind whoever he was. And you'd be damned if the last good memory got tainted too.

"No. I will not let you play with my mind anymore. I've had enough." You pushed past him, wanting to finally escape this borderline cult. Originally, you had only followed after him because you couldn't bear being without him. Jayce was right, though. He really was different now.

"Hm... it seems like I was right about you after all." You stopped in your tracks yet didn't dare face him. "You truly are not worth saving... you can't grasp the beauty of what I have made. I suppose everyone's claims for your low intelligence were, unfortunately, right. What a shame." How could a devil have such a soothing, loving voice? Why did the monster that now lurked in your shadow have to have your lovers face? The cruelty was too much to bear.

Who would have thought that you'd finally leave him for good after all the years you've taken care of him? This moment felt so surreal and yet ironically freeing as well. The end was near. "Did you... ever even love me?" You asked aimlessly, but didn't wait to hear his answer.

Perhaps if you had, however, you would've seen that sudden spark of surprise in his eyes, as you slipped out of his fingers for good at last.

》JAYCE

You had looked everywhere for him. And after also asking everyone under the sun if they had seen your boyfriend, you had eventually determined that he must've somehow gone missing. Worried sick, it pained you knowing that there wasn't much you could do either, considering that everyone was too busy getting ready for a borderline war and Caitlyn became unreachable as a result. Yet just as you began to lose hope, your dear lover finally returned... but he wasn't the same.

He didn't look the same, nor did he act the same, in fact. He looked so different that it even visibly startled you when you found him rummaging through his once shared laboratory. You had just returned from another wrap around the building in hopes of finding it, and whilst you'd consider yourself lucky this time around, all you now felt was genuine dread.

"Jayce...? What happened to you? I looked for you everywhere and-" You stilled at the intense look he gave you, his face flinching for a moment, as though his mind couldn't comprehend your image. Glancing over at his peculiar weapon of choice, you felt unnerved at how even that looked uncanny. The entire situation was unnerving you deeply, to say the least. "You... You shouldn't be here." He finally muttered, his voice deeper and colder than it ever was. Jayce always had such a fun and warm voice. If you didn't know any better, you would've questioned who he was a while ago.

"Hey... tell me where you were, okay?" You said, trying a more gentle approach as you neared him, eyes focused on his clearly injured leg. Had he been kidnapped? You doubted it. So what made him end up like this? Nothing you could come with explained his appearance. His hair and beard were way longer than they should have gotten in the short span of time he was gone, too.

Reaching down carefully, you tried to inspect his leg, but he seemed less receptive to the idea. Or so you assumed, after he shoved you away roughly and held the hammer to your face at impressive speed. His eyes were glossy, as though he wasn't entirely all there. He was reliving a terrifying moment in his mind, unaware of the horror you were going through. Never could you have ever thought of ending up in this position with him. "Jayce! What the hell are you doing-?" "-Get away! I know what you are... you've been sent by him too, weren't you?" You let out a shriek when he swung the hammer at you, only giving you a fraction of a second to jump out of the way.

Falling onto your behind, you quickly crawled backward and away from him, tears welling up in your eyes. Your scream seemed to at least wake him up, though, as he finally lowered his weapon and blinked at you in surprise. "Fucks sake! What is wrong with you?" You yelled out, yet as fast as his face softened, it hardened again. "... Sorry... I need to leave." Quickly making his way past you, he only barely escaped your presence before you grabbed onto the fabric of his pants. "Why? Where are you going? Why can't you tell me anything?"

The look in his eyes made you shrink away. This wasn't your Jayce anymore. "... The future of everyone in Piltover hinges on me being there on time. Now, make yourself useful for once and get out of my way." Shaking you off harshly, he left you crying on the cold floor of the once lively laboratory, not once looking back.

》SILCO

When you first met Silco, you were both still leading simple lives in the last drop with his brother and all of your other friends in Zaun. The lanes were harsh and, at times, cruel, yet you fought through the agony of it all together. Years down the line later, you find yourself still reminiscing on those heavenly days, particularly those of your lover who had turned for the worst in the time being. And the question of why you didn't listen to Vander's warnings came to mind again then. Perhaps you were just too used to excusing everything his brother did, especially after he had attempted to drown him so horrifically, which left him permanently injured.

But even so... why didn't you just listen? Why did it take so many years for you to finally throw the towel and leave for good? Finally realise that the man you loved was a monster? A disgusting and evil monster who was willing to use the plight of others for his own gain. And for what? Money? Fame? Power? It was all an ego trip you had far more than enough of. Zaun was his playground, and an escape was impossible. You'd be, however damned if you didn't at least try to anyways. Even if just in Vander's honor as a long-awaited apology.

Pushing past the crowd in the stuffy, full Last drop, you finally reached his office upstairs. Not caring about formalities anymore, you knocked and opened the door without awaiting a reply. If death met you behind it, then so be it. "Ah, darling, in a hurry today, aren't you?" "We need to talk. Alone." Short and straight to the point. Raising a brow, he shared a look with Jinx, who was just done giving him his daily "medicine". Oh, how you hated your lover's dearest creation. Shimmer. The exact thing that had ruined your lives for good. But you pushed away your disdain for the task at hand.

Giving Jinx a dismissive wave of his hand, you waited for her to be gone for good before taking a breath to speak. But Silco beat you to it. Always so painfully perceptive. "The answer is no, if you're here asking to leave. I refuse to let you go, dear. You have no one else but me after all. You wouldn't survive on your own." He always underestimated you, so this wasn't an all to surprising response. And if you were just a couple of months younger, you would have maybe agreed and backed off. But you were sick of his games.

"I didn't come here to ask for permission, Silco. I'm here to say goodbye." The slightest, softest crack at the last word gave you away horribly. You certainly didn't expect your feelings for the man to betray you, but even that won't stop you now. Said man just hummed in response as he stood up to face the window. His hands calmly lit a cigar, very much unbothered. But you knew that your sentence had gotten to him anyway with how his hand shook ever so slightly. Out of anger, most likely.

"So you think you can do whatever you want? Leave after you've spent so many years at my side? Your hands aren't as clean as you think they are, darling. Even yours are a bright violet." A reference to the shimmer vials on his desk. He knew how much you hated it, so this felt like a jab. A jab at the deep guilt you felt every day for enabling the death of all of your friends indirectly. If only you had stopped him from the start... then maybe you wouldn't have to feel the dread that ruined you from the inside anymore.

"I've accepted my flaws and sins a long time ago. I may not be better than you... but sometimes, in order to end the cycle, you have to walk away and leave some things behind." You suddenly felt so content, his cold and terrible words not reaching you anymore. You were so close to leaving. So close to leaving Zaun and Piltover like you've always dreamed. But Silco just scoffed in disbelief.

"Hah, don't give me that self-righteous shit... I've been there for you for so many years, dear. I've taken care of you, fed you, and loved you to my best ability for so long. The least you could do is be grateful for my kindness." "So you think I'm a burden?" The silence was deafening, but it was enough to confirm your long-standing suspicions. He had lost his love for you a long time ago. Perhaps the side that loved you so purely drowned in the river with him.

"... Goodbye. I hope one day you can walk away too." You turned and began walking out then, suddenly realising that it's finally over. Shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat, you felt the ticket for the skyship you had to take. "Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare it-" All bark and no bite as usual. There was no stopping you now, and he knew it. He was letting you go after all. You could just hope that one day he'd listen to your words and end the cycle, too.

What a shame that you won't be there at his side to see it, however... maybe in another life then.

[t0yac1d]

OKAY, GREAT. SOOOOOOJRNDNEJE LIKE JEALOUS EDDIE? (I've been on a jealous binge lately 😭) you and steve have been getting close recently and he's been flirting with you.. (GASP! but you're dating Eddie 😦.) And you always roll your eyes at it pushing him away from you while you laugh not thinking much of it. but then eddie overhears steve talking about you in a"The things I would do to her man, to bad Eddie got her before me." and he's like had enough so smutty time!!! and he js marks you up and everything for stevie to seeee.

Always Forver (E.Munson x F!Reader)

Warnings: smut, jealous sex, marking, biting, praise, hair pulling

Word Count: 1,305

Notes: I'm gonna be completely honest, idk how to really write Eddie's character so please pray that I don't fuck this up! I'm also deeply sorry for the extremely long delay, I haven't been motivated to write much, AND I don't remember the names of Steve's friends from season 1 so I chose random names.

Notes (2x): I'm back from hiatus! I've been working hard these past couple of months but I am back now! Also, I will be posting a story soon AAAHHHH I'll be sure to post info of it here and where you can read it if you're interested!

You've never thought anything of it, the way Steve treated you; how he touched you, spoke to you, cared for you. You thought he was just being the good friend that he is. You never paid any attention to the words he said to you, his flirtatious nature is almost natural to him and a part of who he is, so you thought he was just being himself. You'd brush off his words and lightly push him away with a chuckle each time.

"Babe, I just don't like the way he openly flirts you. He knows we're dating; he just doesn't care." Eddie sulked as he watched you take a shot.

The two of you were attending a party; a party your good ol' friend Steve was throwing.

You caressed his face and wrapped one of his curls around your finger, "It's nothing, he's like that to everyone. His words have no weight." You then gave him a smile and kissed his cheek before walking off. You walked past Steve and gave him little wave before meeting up with Nancy and Robin.

Eddie let out a little huff and shrugged the weary feeling off. He trusts you, and if you say that Steve's words mean absolutely nothing, then they mean absolutely nothing.

He walked to the fridge, grabbing another beer when he overheard something he wish he didn't.

"Did you see how her ass just looked in that skirt?" James asked, eyes trained on the shape of your ass in your baby pink skirt. "The things I'd do just to get a taste." Nick sighed.

"What about you, Steve? You're pretty close to her, you never wanted to get between her legs?" he continued, focus now on Steve.

"Trust me, I have. Still do." he answered. Steve sighed and slowly shook his head, "The things I'd do to her, man. Too bad Munson got her before I could."

Eddie got tense at the words that spilled out from their lips. Those disgusting words that were all targeted at you. He closed the fridge door and made his way to you. He took your hand in his and led you to the bathroom.

"Uh-"

You couldn't get a word out before his lips were on yours and your back against the door. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close. You don't know what had gotten into him, but you weren't complaining.

Eddie pulled away and moved you to the sink, he made you face the mirror pushed you against the porcelain. He grabbed and groped your ass, sighing to himself, "Hate to say it, but he was right. Your ass looks amazing in this skirt."

"Who- Who said that?" you asked, "Doesn't matter." he grunted. You were lost in the thought of someone other than your boyfriend would say that about you. But now you have an idea as to why he's acting the way he is.

He lifted the back of your skirt up and rubbed your lower back, "Now, be good girl and be as loud as possible."

"What-"

With one, harsh thrust his cock was in you and you were bent over, your face practically touching the mirror. Eddie's thrusts were rough and hard. You tried to be quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to the bathroom and not wanting people to hear the noises you'd make for this man.

Eddie pulled and tugged at your hair, pulling you close to him, "Make some noise." he grunted. His voice was husky, and his scent intoxicating. You wanted to moan, to scream but you also didn't want any attention from anyone outside. But it was starting to get difficult to not make any noise.

You whimpered and whined whenever you felt the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. "Louder baby," he sighed, the feeling of your pussy tightening around his cock sent shivers throughout his body. "Just let it out, don't think about anyone else but the two of us."

Broken moans fell from your lips as you gripped the porcelain sink and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You pushed all of your worries to the side and listened to Eddie's words.

He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look in the mirror, "Good job princess, such a good girl," he smiled, locking eyes with you. "Such a pretty girl."

Eddie's eyes moved down to your neck and shoulder, which were exposed by the top you were wearing. A lightbulb switched on in his head and he slowly moved his mouth towards the most exposed spots.

He licked, nipped and kissed at your neck, testing the waters before even daring to bite into your beautiful skin. "Do it," you breathed. Eddie looked up and his eyes locked with yours again, "Do it, I want you to."

That was all he needed in order to continue.

He sunk his teeth in your soft skin, earning a hiss and moan from you in return.

Eddie left bite marks and hickeys all over your neck, and down your collarbone.

He hasn't done it before, but this just unlocked a whole new world for him that he will continue to do.

Eddie grabbed and groped your tits as he felt him dick twitch, he was so close to cumming and he can tell you were too. The way your moans went up an octave or two, the way you gripped the edge of the sink, the way your pretty eyes rolled back, the way your mouth fell open.

Eddie's hands made their way under your shirt and bra, he pinched and played with your nipples, the sensation sending goosebumps throughout your body and to your core.

You were so close, and you just wanted to cum.

You just wanted to cum for him and show him you're his good girl.

"E-Eddie..." you stuttered, "Hm?" he hummed, his pace getting faster and his hands gripping at your tits. "I'm so close, please," you didn't know what you were begging for; he was giving you everything you wanted.

Eddie brought one of his hands down and between your legs, he played with your clit, stimulating it.

You moaned and moaned; you were sure someone out there could hear you over the music. The bathroom smelled like sex, pure and raw sex.

You came and creamed all over Eddie's cock, you were sensitive to every movement right now. Eddie came inside of you, painting your walls white with his nut. When he slowly pulled his cock out of you, his nut was dripping out of you.

It was definitely a sight he loved to see. He used his fingers push the cum back inside of you and he pulled your panties back up.

"Try not to let anymore drip out of you, 'kay?" he asked, smiling.

You gave him a nod and he kissed the top of your head, forehead, nose, cheeks, lips and hands. He can't do much aftercare here, but that doesn't mean he won't show his love after fucking you.

Eddie took your hand and lead you out of the bathroom and back to the party. "You can go back to what you were doing my love."

You chuckled at his actions and walked back to Nancy and Robin; walking by Steve on your way to them.

You couldn't see it, but Eddie could.

Steve's face changed from, admiration and lust to surprise and disgust.

Surprise: He didn't think you were the type to be into that.

Disgust: It was Eddie's lips that were on you.

He scoffed and his eyes trailed down your body and to your ass. That's when he saw something dripping down your thigh.

If he wasn't as disgusted before, he's definitely disgusted now.

Guess he never had a chance after all.

[cosmoeticss]

Haven’t I Been Good to You? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (18+)

my masterlist

Words: 2K

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Neice!Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), good old fashioned targcest, p n v, overall bad writing because I haven’t properly written in so long

Note: Reader is Rhaenyra’s heir/eldest daughter and the argument takes place after the dinner scene. I tried not to use any physical descriptors but those gorgeous targaryen platinum locks so I hope thats okay and you enjoy. Literally crawling in my skin right now because I’m about to post this, existing is an embarrassment, if you see this ily thank you for reading.

part two

Aemond was anything but cooled off when he returned to his marital chambers that night. He bound into the room, his displeasure from the night clear in his body language and his labored breathing. His wife sat stoically in front of her vanity, clad in only her night dress as she combed through the length of her silky, silver curls.

Aemond stared her down in disbelief as she barely acknowledged him. How could she honestly be angry with him? It was her bastard brothers who started the disagreement, who started the rivalry to begin with, who teased him their whole childhood and took his eye that fateful night on Driftmark. And here she sat, his wife, shoulders back and proud and angry with him.

Gods, she was beautiful when she was angry. If he didn't know her so well he wouldn't be able to tell. She was so serene and regal and surprisingly calm when she was upset. He often thought of how opposite they were in that sense. He thought of how hot tempered and quick to snap he was, and how she thought everything through before it slipped from her pretty lips. He envied this about her, and yet it was what he had loved most about her as well.

Aemond couldn't help it. He broke first. "Where are the children?" He inquired, steadying himself to the best of his ability.

She hardly gave him the time of day as she answered, her eyes not leaving her own reflection. "I've settled them into bed,” she said.

The Prince furrowed his brow. "Did you not think that I would wish to bid goodnight to my sons?"

"The hour is late. They've had their fill of excitement for the day, Husband."

Husband. Not her usual 'my dearest love,' not 'my darling.' He was in trouble far more than what he had bargained for. He eyed her in disbelief. "You're truly taking their side?"

She finally turned then, vast (e/c) eyes meeting his violet one. "There is no side to be taken, Aemond,” he hated her formality when they argued, "We are a family. We're supposed to be on the same side. Did you see how pleased the poor King was to see everyone finally getting along? Our mothers finally found some common ground after all of these years and yet you ruined an otherwise pleasant night with your wounded pride."

"My wounded pride?" he spat harshly, raising his voice at her. "Did you not see the way your beloved brother laughed as they sat a roasted pig in front of me? Or have you forgotten the torment I was subject to as a child? What do you expect to me to do, (Y/N)?"

She stood then, the silk of her long night dress accentuating her rounded stomach. "You are to be the Royal Consort one day, you will be King!" she scolded him sternly, silencing him. "I expect you to be the bigger person. I expect you to act with dignity and not meet the teasing of a child with the ferocity that you did tonight!"

Aemond softened at this, turning away from her to face the burning embers of the hearth. He did not retaliate, only moving to sit in a chair placed in front of it. He gripped the arms of the seat trying to calm himself, breathing deeply.

His wife watched him carefully. "It is not fair. I know it isn't," she swallowed, her eyes glazed over as she did. "I know that it angers you that I love my family after all my brothers have done to you, after what Lucerys has taken from you and I am sorry, Aemond. I truly am."

He was silent still, eye glued to the flames before him as if they were the most important thing in the room. "I cannot keep atoning for crimes I did not commit," her voice was almost pleading as she stepped closer to him then, slowly, testing the water carefully. When he did not retaliate,  she kneeled on the floor in front of him. "I know that you would not have chosen me to wed on our own, dear husband."

Her hands reached out to take his, and he allowed it, watching down the bridge of his nose as his wife gently held his hands in her small ones and brought them both to her lips, kissing them tenderly and repeatedly. "We have been honest and good to each other in these near seven years as man and wife, though," she stated, eyes wide and pleading as she rested her chin on his knee. "Have I not been a good to you?"

"You have," Aemond's voice cracked, his eyes fluttering shut at her soft inquisition. He breathed deeply, removing one of his hands from hers and carding it through her beautiful hair. “My love.”

"I have given you my body, mind, and soul. I have given you my virtue, and my fidelity. My heart has only ever belonged to you," she whispered as her husbands tensity began to dissolve between her nimble fingers and lips. Her soft kisses continuing slowly up his arm. "I have bore you two beautiful, healthy boys. Boys that will be Kings and Warriors one day, and I carry another inside me."

The air was stolen from her as Aemond halted her pecking and surged forward, lifting her swiftly from the stone floor to straddle his lap as if she weighed nothing. She gazed down at him, moving to gently remove her husbands eye patch. He hadn't minded the action for years now, as it was a bother to wear and his pretty wife had never judged his appearance or what he had lost all those years ago. She set the patch on the end table next to them, not taking her eyes off of him as her hands slid up his shoulders and found their home at his jawline. Her thumbs moved in slow circles on his face.

"I have given you power," he whimpered at this, gripping the soft meat of her thighs. "Outside the walls of this chamber you are my equal, and one day we will rule the Seven Kingdoms side by side, however we see fit to."

"Yes," he groaned hoarsely, continuing his kneading at her thighs, sitting up to press his lips to her throat, leaving hot opened mouth kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts as he detangled the strings of her shift, baring her supple chest to him.

"You would like that wouldn't you, My King?" Aemond growled in agreement, continuing his ravishing as she slipped her fingers to the base of his neck and weaved them into his hair, gripping it tightly. "And in this room, you will rule me as you see fit."

"If that we're true then I would bound you to our bed, little wife," he sank his teeth delicately into the flesh of her breast, tongue swirling against the skin, causing her head to snap back in pleasure and a breathy moan to fall from her lips. "You would never leave these chambers. Who would be left to rule if I'm buried inside this sweet cunt for all of our lives, hmm?"

"You have many years before we are crowned for me to ride you, my dragon. And I plan to mount you morning and night,” she grinding into him, their lips meeting finally in a messy kiss. "Surely you'll tire of bedding me by then."

"Never," he pressed his forehead to hers, their breathing hot as he moved a large slender hand to cover her swollen stomach. "I enjoy no sight more than your belly swollen with our children."

She rutted her hips against his once more, her weeping cunt begging for friction. "Please, my dearest love"

"I wonder how the realm would feel if they knew the truth of their precious Princess?" he smirked as she fucked herself on his covered length. "If they knew how she begged for me each night? How wet she gets without me even having to touch her."

"Aemond, please," she wined.

"You wish to ride your dragon, my Queen?" he began hiking up her night dress to rest on her hips.

She panted at his movements, so tender, so achingly slow and teasing. "Yes," she whimpered.

He cocked his brow at her. "What's stopping you? Claim me then."

She didn't have to be told twice. Her trembling hands moved frantically to the strings of his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down to his thighs. He hissed as she took his length into her hand, stroking it sweetly before he lifted her hips and guided her to sink down on him. Her eyes screwed shut, crying out in pleasure as she adjusted to the size of him. Neither of them moved for a moment, their breathing tense and labored.

Aemond brushed a lock of hair out of his wife's face, her forehead falling to meet his as he cradled her head with his hand. "Alright?"

"Mhm," she hummed needily, bracing herself as her hands dropped to his shoulders. Aemond's free hand moved to cover the swell of her stomach, a lazy grin forming on his lips, before finding it's way to her hips once more, helping to roll them against his. Aemond cursed, his jaw going slack as his wife unraveled above him. Once she found her footing, she picked up her pace, bobbing up and down steadily, her finger nails curling into his shoulders. His hips snapped up to meet hers, and she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Something came undone in him at the sound, his hands were everywhere then, cupping her full breasts, wrapped around her throat, sinking into her thighs. He was pawing at her like she would disappear if he let go for one second, grunting like a wild animal as he rutted against her.

"So good," he captured her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth clashing. "So pretty and all mine."

She babbled something nonsensical in appraisal, her heat clenching around his cock as he worshipped her, their movements becoming sloppy as they approached their peak. "I'm so close."

"Say you love me," he demanded, fingers making their way to her pearl as he toyed with it, causing her to squeak at the touch. "Tell me again that you're mine and mine alone."

"Please," she panted, whimpering as he fucked into her relentlessly, hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."

Aemond's fingers were torture, slow and taunting. "Say it." "I'm yours," she cried out. "Only yours. Please--"

"Let go," he permitted, following close behind as she toppled over the edge, back arching and eyes rolling back as she was overcome with pleasure. They were still, chests heaving and hot breath mingling as they came down from their shared orgasm. Her nimble fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it away from his sweat soaked neck. He fell back into the chair, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "I would've chosen you," he broke the silence after a long moment. She lifted her head slightly to look him in the eye, confusion evident as if she had not registered what he said. "When you said that you weren't the wife I would have chosen for myself. If I had been presented with a choice, I would've chosen you."

Her gaze softened at the sincerity and raw emotion flickering in his eye. "Then choose me now. Choose our family," she gripped his shirt tightly, pleading with him. "Love me more than you hate them."

Aemond sighed deeply, covering her hands with his. "I do love you. More than anything."

"Then promise you will try." Neither wanted to admit what they both knew, that even if he did, it was too late. The King's health dwindled more and more by the day, and the wounds cut between the Greens and the Blacks were too old and too deep for even their love to heal. The time was coming where they would have to choose. War was looming and their last chance at peace had slipped through their fingers like flowing water. So they didn't, and chose in silence to carry on pretending while they still could.

Aemond cupped her face gently, and pulled her into a soft, sweet kiss. "I promise," he whispered, the sweetest of lies, and he met her lips again in a more fervent kiss.

And she let herself hope, she let her self believe, just a little while longer.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

for ask-travaganza, (still patiently waiting on) free ride part 3?

So sorry it has taken 25 years!

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo • ko-fi •

• Free Ride Masterlist •

Summary: You recognised Steven, and Jake had no choice but to play along and give in to some impulses of his own. Now Steven has woken right after the act and doesn't know how he got here.

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, honestly I'm not 100% with this one.

Warnings: Jake being mistaken for Steven, Steven waking up and being like oooohhh okkkayy what?, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, dirty talk Steven kind of just saying whatever is in his mind, cream pie, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3513

Steven freezes, unable to hide his very obvious deer caught in the headlights expression. He swallows and the audible gulp makes him wince. 

A small frown of worry begins to deepen on your forehead. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, good, great even, the best, I…” The words just tumble out like acid, burning his throat as they form. “Erm, I should…” He moves away from you quickly, standing up and then nearly tripping over the trousers and belt on the floor that he doesn’t recognise.

You kneel quickly to help him without thinking, grabbing hold of his forearms to steady his balance. 

Despite how he automatically wraps his fingers around your arms, he flinches ever so slightly at the touch, trying his best to hide it. But it was undeniably there. 

Something deep and sickening settles in your chest. The pressure of tears starts to form behind your eyes. You didn’t think he was the kind of person who just threw people aside after he’d fucked them. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Steven keeps his eyes trained on your jaw, not high enough to have to look into your eyes and not low enough to see anything. But… well, if he’d slept walked here and, he must of, so… he must sort of have seen everything, right? 

His thoughts ricochet around in his head, bouncing off his skull with a ferocious impact. He absentmindedly strokes the inside of your arms with his thumbs. 

There’s a little bruising on your neck, love bites he quickly realises. Fresh and still forming. He must have…

“You, erm,” you pause, you want to run. Hide. Leave. But you couldn’t exactly dart out of your own flat now, could you? “I-”

“I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head, closing his eyes. God the pain in your voice was like a knife forced under his ribs. You obviously didn’t know he’d been sleepwalking. He’d read about cases like this, sexsomnia, had he done it before? Is that where he wandered off to? Had he been fucking you for months and just not realised?

“I know it was a bit fast,” you swallow, trying not to let your panic overtake you, “I don’t usually, you know… jump into bed with people like that.”

Well, that answered that question, didn’t it? 

You breathe in deeply, “I hope you don’t-”

“Love, no, no, no,” he looks up at you quickly, finally taking in your expression. The worry, the apprehension. Part of him screams to just tell you the truth. But what would he look like? A complete idiot. Or you just wouldn’t believe him, would think he was trying to fob you off. Steven couldn’t have that. 

“I, I, sorry, I zoned out and sort of-” He started, giving you his best reassuring smile. 

“Did you nod off?” You hate how shy you sound, naive and hopeful. “I thought you did, for a second?”

“Yes!” He says, a little too loudly and with a touch too much enthusiasm. “I fell asleep for a second, didn’t I? God,” he lightly bumps his forehead with the palm of his hand as he repeats your words. “Got all… startled for a second, I do that. Sorry. What a man I am? Yeah? Falls asleep straight away after…” His mouth flounders for a second, his mind stalling. It wasn’t like he was a child, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had sex before. It wasn’t like he was even embarrassed by the act. It was just that straight away after fucking sounded so impersonal. Especially when he didn’t even remember the fucking part. 

“It’s okay.” You smile warmly, relief washing over you. You lightly touch his cheek and he leans into you instantly. 

He must have got so worked up, you reason, self-conscious. 

“Thanks love, I…” He pauses and raises his finger, suddenly very aware of his nakedness and that he still had a condom on. “You know what? I’m gonna take this… off. Yeah.” He gestures, trying to be a little bit over the top and lighthearted. And to his absolute relief, you giggle. 

“Sure, let me grab you a tissue.” You grin and climb back on the bed to grab some from the bedside table. 

“Thanks, I…” He trails off as he can’t help but watch, mesmerised by your bare skin and the curve of your ass. He swallows as you turn back to him, handing over a few tissues. 

You pause a little at the look he gives you, his eyes dark. 

“Steven?” You say softly, about to inwardly curse yourself at using his name again when he’d acted a little unfavourably to it before, but instead, his breathing hitches ever so slightly. His throat bobs. 

“Sorry love,” he takes the tissues, wrapping the condom inside and throwing it into the bin when you gesture to where it is. He pauses again for a second. “You’re so pretty.” 

You laugh bashfully, “I… Thank you. So are you.” 

“No,” he touches your biceps, feather light in his caress. “I mean it, honestly, truly, so beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” You say softly, your voice coming out barely above a whisper. You hold your breath as he leans in and just faintly runs the bridge of his nose against yours while he lightly touches your neck. 

You shiver.

“Did I leave these marks?” He asks, his voice low and teasing as he strokes the love bites. 

You nod, heat starting to pool in your belly. 

“Did you like it?” He brushes his lips against your cheek, moving closer to your ear. 

“Yes.” You manage to mutter, your mouth dry.

“Good.” He mutters, placing the softest kiss to your jaw. 

You lean closer, biting your lip to keep down the shaky little sigh that wants so desperately to escape. It feels… different, him being so close. It’s strange, it’s like you weren’t just wrapped around each other minutes before. It’s like you’re here with a completely different person. 

He darts out his tongue, running the tip over a love bite just along your pulse point and groans when he feels you arch into him. 

Steven sucks at the bite, laps at it, sending a spiral of sensation along your nerves as he leans closer, as if he was trying to cover up the marks anew. 

He wraps his arms around you, gently urging you back down onto the mattress as he lightly presses his own legs between yours. 

By the time your back hits the sheets and his tongue slips past your lips you’re gone. Lightheaded and aching for every touch he’ll grace you with. 

He moans into your mouth, his touch light but quickly becoming more demanding as he feels you arching up to him. He moves against you languidly, grinding his hips ever so slightly as they come to rest against yours. 

The heat of your core just brushes his semi hard cock and he hisses, shivering as he flinches back a fraction of a centimetre before he pushes closer, greedily drinking down your little moans as he rubs himself against your wetness.

He hums happily, running his right hand along your skin to your chest. He squeezes your breast softly, kneads in between his fingers until your nipples have pebbled as you let out a desperate whimper. 

“Fuck yes,” He whispers, pulling his lips back a fraction so he can watch your face. He’s dizzy, his vision dreamlike. So sure that he’ll wake up any minute. He pinches your nipple, delighting in the little whine you grace him with, how your eyes snap open and you give him a look.

“Sorry, love,” He chuckles softly, “Don’t mean to tease.” He leans closer again before he trails kisses down your neck, nipping slightly at your collarbone in a rushed frenzy. Like you could push him away at any moment.

You shiver, digging your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck as he licks between your breasts slowly, looking up at you with his large doe eyes. 

“Can I…?” He bites his lip a little shyly, letting the question hang. 

You nod and he groans. 

Steven bends his neck so that he can lap slowly at your nipples, lavishing one with attention before moving to the other. He moans when you squirm and buck, pressing your skin further into his mouth. 

He pushes his heavy cock against your pussy so that he can rub his length along your clit and folds, shivering with how your hot, wet slick coats him. It’s only then that he sucks at your beast, flicking the tip of his tongue as he rocks his hips eagerly. 

You moan loudly, your back arching as you hold onto him, pulling him closer. Pleasure twists and churns in your belly, little jolts of electricity running along your nerves as he presses and rolls against your clit in a mesmerising rhythm.

He whimpers as your cries grow in pitch, his hips bucking faster against you as weight settles at the base of his cock. 

You pull his hair, a little harshly and he whines, nearly coming undone on the spot, “Fuck love, keep doing that.” He manages to stammer out, gasping when you pull again. “Fucking hell.”

He rocks faster, spurred on by your whimpers and how desperately you cling to him. You want him. You need him. 

Your legs hook around his waist as he laps at your breasts, he rolls his hips, the very tip of his cock just catching at your entrance. 

His body almost betrays him, moving practically of its own accord. Steven just manages to stop himself from pushing in completely, instead, he pulls back and continues to rub against you. Just the right pressure, the right rock and push.

You moan loudly, practically sobbing. 

“Say my name, love, please?” 

“Steven,” You whine, and oh god he wants you to say it again, scream it. The way it falls from your lips. How worked up you look as you clutch yourself to him. He can’t control himself. 

He groans and pinches your nipples as he covers your neck and jaw with kisses, continuously rolling his hips into yours. It’s so wet and warm between you both, your slick covering him and dripping onto the bed sheets. His mouth waters. 

“Steven,” You gasp, your thighs are tensing, shaking around his waist. 

“Fuck,” He pulls himself back quickly, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I got to,” he kneels up, muttering rushes apologies as you whine at the loss of his warmth and pressure. 

He practically throws himself further down the bed, grabbing hold of your thighs with shaking hands as he buries his face between your legs. 

Your back arches, spine bending as you cry out. His warm, thick tongue drags through your folds, laps at your clit until you're screaming. He moans, long and low, his eyes closed in bliss as he drinks down your wetness and then swirls around your bundle of nerves before he sucks it into his mouth. 

You grab at his hair, your body moving under its own will. Pleasure builds and builds and builds, so dizzyingly high and quick. Pulled taught until you can’t do anything but snap. “Steven, I’m gonna come.” You whine, bucking up as he sucks and lets out a small accompanying cry. 

His eyes practically roll back as you gasp, your cum hitting his mouth like ambrosia. You shake in his grip, his hands firm on your inner thighs to keep you open and spread as he works you through it. He sucks like his life depends on it, like your pleasure is his only reason for breathing. 

When you start to relax he moves back a fraction, lightly licking through your folds to collect and drink down all of your release. 

You whine a little softly, shivering from the after effects. But his tongue is so gentle, the touch so light, it doesn’t overstimulate you as you expect. Instead, the warmth is welcome as he laps, occasionally breaking his rhythm to press soft kisses to your legs. 

“Steven,” you whisper, your muscles are jelly, weak and boneless. But still you reach out and stroke his cheek. 

He looks up at you happily. “Thank you, love…” He smiles dreamily, “Was that okay?” 

You can’t help but laugh as you push his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “More than.” 

His smile widens and he sits up a little so he can kiss your wrist. His cock bobs between his legs, heavy and red. Practically straining with need. 

“Would you… like to?” You nod at his erection and smile. 

A little hint of red colours his cheeks, “Well, I mean, erm… no pressure of course, only if you want to, I don’t want to pres-”

You sit up quickly and kiss him, sliding your tongue past his lips and licking into his hot mouth. He whimpers, pushing closer.

“Of course I want to.” You nip his bottom lip lightly and he groans. 

“Do you… do you have another condom?” He swallows and you shake your head. 

“I… I’m on birth control… I don’t, I don’t have any STDs or anything?” You pause, suddenly a little embarrassed at your bluntness. God, he must think you’re so desperate. 

He groans again, pressing closer and shuddering. “I don’t either, have any, I mean.” He smiles and the knot of worry in your stomach dissolves. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I want to.” You whisper. 

“Oh fuck,” He swallows quickly, “You’re gonna make me come on the spot, sound too fucking sexy love.” He kisses your cheek and jaw. “Here,” he gently manoeuvres you onto your hands and knees, constantly kissing and checking in. 

You expect him to kneel behind you straight away and sink inside, but instead he dips his head down and runs his tongue only your folds once more, smiling as you jump. 

“Taste so good, love.” He mutters, repeating the movement. “I could stay here all night.” He kneads your ass with his large hands as he licks, revelling in your little shakes and moans as he flicks his tongue over your clit before dipping inside ever so slightly. He repeats the movement again and again and again, until you’re digging your hands into the duvet cover and thrusting back to meet his mouth. 

“Steven,” you gasp, your back arching. “Please, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to stay upright if you make me come again.” 

He groans and grins, moving away slowly after one last lick. “Alright, love, alright.” His hands are warm on the small of your back as he strokes your skin, rubs your hips. The bed dips slightly as he repositions himself, his heart hammering in his chest as he takes himself in hand and notches his tip at your pussy. 

“Tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay love?” 

You nod. 

“Please?”

“I will, I promise, I-” You moan deeply as he starts to push inside, stretching you so wonderfully. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he moans headily, “Can’t bare the thought of you, oh fuck, of you not having a good time.” He gasps, halfway in. He pulls back slightly before pushing forward again, slowly easing further with every slow thrust. 

He tries to swallow down a sob, but you just feel too good. “Taking me so well,” he moans, all high pitched. He can’t tear his eyes away from how he sinks inside, how you’re stretched so wide around him. Your walls squeeze and throb, pulling him deeper. 

“You feel amazing.” He manages to stammer out as he pushes all the way inside at last. 

You moan, rocking back lightly. Even though you’d already felt him splitting you open, he feels even larger at the angle, pushing every thought out of your head to make room for more of him. 

He whimpers as you move, his muscles flexing as he bucks shallowly to meet you. 

“Steven,” you swallow. “Ah, please!” 

He smiles, holding onto your hips with one hand as he picks up the pace, pulling you back to meet every single one of his deep, powerful thrusts. He rolls his hips, changing the angle ever so slightly with each buck, your moans music to his ears and only fulling him further. 

When you cry out particularly loudly he groans. 

“Oh, fuck love, there?” You nod your head rapidly, pleasure spurting up your spine. “Yes!”

He sobs as he looks down, watching himself disappear inside of you, the heavy sound echoing. Your wetness has dripped down his balls, sunk into the dark curls between his legs. He can see a white ring forming around the base of his cock, growing thick with every buck as the liquid leaks out of your pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, his voice low and desperate. “So fucking good for me, taking me and letting me fuck you and, ugh, feeling so good!” He gasps, his hips smacking into yours, jolting your forwards as he bullies his cock in and out of you. 

You moan, thrusting back with all your might and sobbing when he reaches around and rubs at your clit with his left hand. 

Pleasure sparks deep, twisting and growing and leaving you powerless to how he plays your body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans, his fingers slippery on your pussy as he rubs. He presses his fore and middle finger to your clit while he feels his cock pumping in and out of you with his ring and little finger. The sound of your wetness is making him lightheaded, how you push back and take him so greedily, you want him. The thought echoes with the rapid beating of his heart. You want him, you want him, you want him.

“You’d, you’d,” he swallows, his head too blissed out to know or control what his mouth is saying. “You’d let me come in you, wouldn’t you? Let me fill you up?” 

You whine, nodding desperately.

“Oh shit, what, what about if I pull out and come all over your back? Can I? Can I make a fucking mess all over you?” 

“Yes,” You manage to whimper. 

“Oh god, love,” he whines, “I’m so close, I want you to have it all, all of me. You’re gonna make me come so hard, I can feel it. Shit. I used to, I used to fuck myself and think- think about you,” his voice raises as you buck back against him, “I used to come all over himself thinking about… you!” He gasps, his balls tightening. 

“Love, please,” Steven sobs, “I’m gonna come,” he sounds so weak, robbed of strength even though he is pounding into you like a man possessed. “Want to feel you squeeze me, please?” He shivers. “Want to feel you come on my cock, please? Can you? How, how can I help make you?” 

You moan low, his sweet needy words twist in your stomach. “Please, just a little bit more, I’m,” you swallow, “I’m nearly there.” 

He whimpers. “Love, oh god, thank you, thank you.” He rolls your clit, kissing your shoulder blades as he ruts against you. “Thank you so much for letting me fuck you, thank you so much. Can, can you say my name, can you scream it when you come? I want to hear you say it all the time, every day, want to fuck you every fucking second, I’ll just stay here and be ready for you whenever you want and, oh!”

You squeal, your muscles spasming as you come hard. Pleasure rushes along your veins as your thrust back against his thick cock, keeping him fully inside as your walls pulse and squeeze. Your orgasm burns, leaving only ashes in its wake. 

Steven stammers, his whole body freezing except for his hips. He bucks rapidly, practically screaming your name as he finally reaches his peak. He spurts deep inside of you, pumping hot and thick. He shivers, shakes and groans thankfully as you (as gently as you can) collapse onto the bed and pull him down on top of you. 

He nuzzles into your neck, his cock spasming with aftershocks. He can’t believe this is real. 

“I’m sorry.” You breathe hard, your skin sweaty.

“Hmm?” Steven lifts his head ever so slightly, confused.

“I didn’t say your name.” 

“Oh,” he chuckles, about to reassure you that he very, very much doesn’t care at this moment. That you are wonderful, perfect even, and that he thinks that was the hardest he’d ever come in his whole life. And maybe, perhaps he should say sorry for running his mouth like that. But you don’t give him a chance. 

“I guess I’ll have to try again the next time you fuck my brains out.” You giggle, angling your arm back so that you can awkwardly stroke his hair. 

Steven shivers, next time. Next. Time. His softening cock twitches in your heat. 

He wants to answer, but for once his brain is lost for words. Instead, he moans and buries his face into your shoulder, kissing and sucking as he cuddles you tight. 

Thank you so much for reading!

[dailyfigures]

Unpopular opinion: I hate hate HATE loli figures. idc if people collect them because they’re ‘cute’ it’s still weird asf imo, there are so many other and much cuter figures. It disgusts me how popular and normalized they are among the anime community.

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

oh god anon allow me to specifically rant about one of my worst pet peeves. i used to see this mostly on tiktok when i still had the app, but i've seen it happen on most social media.

it really grinds my gears when people own a suggestive/nsfw figure of a minor, and then accuse anyone who dares to say something about it of sexualising children. if you want to own figures of a child/teenager in lingerie, i'm really not a fan of that but at least own up to it. don't act like everyone else is weird when you own a figure made with a certain intention and refuse to admit it.

maybe it helps to give an example; i saw someone on tiktok own a figure of ram from re:zero in lingerie, on hands and knees with an arched back. i think ram is 17 and later in the series an adult, arguebly not the worst figure ever but i can imagine people finding it a little weird. op started accusing everyone who made a comment about the figure by pulling an uno reverse and going "wow....how deeply SICK of YOU to see a child and make it sexual....i would NEVER see her like that.....". ok good for you but i can assure you that was the intention the figure was made with, the target audience is adult men and it's strange to deny this. they even claimed that it was fine because "everyone who collects ram is sapphic anyway" i can assure you that is not true 😭😭 this is very much a case of being in your little online gay bubble and thinking the whole world is the same as you. the target audience of all (female) suggestive/nsfw figures is simply straight men. i'm not saying it's the only people who can own them, but it is who the companies have in mind when producing the figures and it is the largest part of the market. it reminds me a bit of when kpop stans think only gay 17 year olds stan their favourite girl group and then you watch a perfomance where the crowd cheering isn't filtered out and it's all 40 year old men. i'm not stoked about it either, but it is simply the truth.

ofcourse i've seen people reaching, it does happen on tiktok that people get overly sensitive/woke/whatever and blindly hate anyone who collects normal nsfw figures or anyone else who didn't do anything wrong. not every tiktok comment section is filled with the brightest minds of our generation (shocker, i know). i do however think it's a common thing, even with real life children, where people try to question something inappropriate and somehow get the blame. i saw this happen when mothers thought it was strange that target sells swimsuits for babies/toddlers with hip cut outs, and then people accusing said moms of being the weird ones for "thinking a children's swim suit is sexual". guys am i losing my mind. am i going crazy. the concerned mothers are not the problem here for pointing out a weird thing. why in god's name were the swim suits designed like that. can we get an ounce of critical thinking in the chat.

AND ANOTHER THING! sorry guys this is like 5 years of built up irritation you have to let me go for a moment. anyway LOOK at this same shit i saw yesterday. i will not share the video but it was a video of very young middle school girls wearing heavy (gyaru?) makeup, fashion, wigs and nails which was honestly already a bit baffling because it was so much on such young kids. they were all wearing that fashion trend where you wear low rise pants/skirt and then pull up your thong strings to the high heavens so they're on your hips and sticking out off your pants/skirt. not a trend i usually mind but these were very young girls and the whole look, the visible underwear especially, was very inappropriate for their age so people in the comments were uncomfortable. i took one single peak at the comments and had to leave for my own sanity. you guys cannot be serious.

and let me get this very clear: i have also seen people sexualise children doing normal things many times. both extremes are a problem. i think it's fucking weird to sexualise a child giving their parents a kiss or telling a child they shouldn't wear their bathing suit around their male family members, etc. however it is ALSO fucking weird for children to do/wear things that were specifically made for adults doing adult things (like wearing visible lacy thongs when you're in middle school) and no adult stepping in for the child's own safety. both things are weird and i hope everyone dies. anyway what were you saying anon? ah right, no i don't like loli figures either. not a fan.

send me your unpopular figure opinions

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I agree with you about your stances on punishment, and I think it's so important to see that perspective instead of the more common one. I do not want to live in a world with the death penalty or prison.

But I'm very curious how you got to the point where you want your abuser to be happy. Capital H happy. I've never seen that before. I think it's great, and it must've taken a lot of time, and if it's not too personal, I'd like to hear about the process. If not to help myself, to help someone else. I'm personally very very jaded to the whole "forgiveness" mentality (it seems very catholic to me somehow? I forgive you so I'm better than you?) But the way you put it feels different somehow. Sorry for picking your brain, and if it's too personal I totally get it. Thanks for your time.

Thank you for this question.

Hm, it's a tough one. It may be informed by my lack of any singular capital-A Abuser. Certainly, I have had people who were abusive to me longer term (my mother especially), but for the most part it was many dozens of adults in single instances or shorter term situations during my childhood and teenage years that raped or otherwise harmed me. That lack of any singular individual to act as a locus for all the damage may have made it easier for me to come to a point where I wish them well.

I remember being 19, face in my toilet bowl, puking my guts up after downing a fifth of rum in an hour or two. I think it was a Thursday. I understood my mother for the first time. I wanted to stop drinking, and I didn't know why I couldn't.

My roommate at the time slept on a mattress on the floor in the living room. He left his family the day he turned 18 and took the Greyhound across the country to crash with me. We were good friends when he got here, but my negligence and failure to control my drug use ruined that relationship within a few months. He stayed with me for two years. He didn't have other options.

I don't remember those years well at all. Besides various temp jobs, all I did was drink, get fucked up, and make messes I never cleaned up. It was a one bedroom apartment and I had the bedroom, he couldn't really go anywhere. He didn't really know anyone. I was a fucking terror to live with, and a terror he couldn't even really get away from.

And I didn't mean to be that way. I didn't mean to hurt him with my dereliction. But it doesn't matter, y'know, impact is more important than intent. I fucked up bad.

Eventually he left. I was and still am filled with remorse for putting him through what I did. Maybe this perspective is the christian upbringing, maybe it's twelve step bullshit, but often I see my feelings as very self serving. I can justify just about anything, as long as I use enough self pity. But this feeling was different. It was just... remorse, pure and unfiltered. No rationalizations as to how it wasn't really my fault, no equivocations, no blaming outside factors, just acknowledgement that I fucked up and I hurt someone I loved. I was sorry that I had done that.

Humility does not come naturally to me. This was a humbling experience.

I--and everyone I've ever met, everyone who ever harmed me--am a human being. No more, no less. In each of us is potential both to love deeply and to do great harm to others. No one is without both these potentials.

It comes down to this: what I wish for myself, I must wish for all.

Do not mistake me here--this does not neatly translate into a pragmatic political position. For me, this is simply some sort of spirituality, that is to say, how I strive to navigate my life, day at a time, in the world as I find it. This is as small scale as it can get.

I understand that feeling about forgiveness you mention. What I have to say about it probably won't help the christian connotation; I am an atheist and a subjectivist, though obviously culturally evangelical. Maybe it is that last part that influences this next, but I don't feel I have the authority to forgive anyone. Or, in another word, 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone.'

Now, of course, I believe in neither god nor sin, but I do believe in harm. 'Let he who is not capable of such harm cast the first stone,' perhaps. Not all harm is equivalent, certainly, but no one is innately capable or incapable of greater harm than others. The ability to actually do harm is relative to relations to power, no doubt, but a given power relation is not innate.

So yeah I end up back at 'i have no moral high ground over or under anyone else, the forgiveness is neither mine to give nor withhold,' which frankly is a rather christian viewpoint.

There's this idea in Judaism that has stuck with me for the last few years: tikkun olam. To repair the world. What must I do to ensure my part in that repair happens?

There is so little I have control of. The only thing I can change is what I do. If the world around me is hardened and cruel, why must I adopt that cruelty into myself? Will it get me better outcomes in life? Perhaps, perhaps not. I have found it hasn't, but others may find it has. But that's talking about results. And I don't have power over results.

I cannot change the world, cannot repair it alone. But I think I can work to repair myself, and in the process, the smallest portion of the world may be repaired alongside me. Maybe, maybe not. It becomes a matter of faith. Or to put it in a therapeutic framing, it's an 'even if.'

I'll end with this, an old twelve step saying: "resentments are like drinking a bottle of poison and expecting the other person to die."

What is a resentment? Re- as in once more. -sent, as in sentiment. Feeling something once more. It is the reanimated corpse of a feeling, not the feeling itself. It looks like the feeling you know, maybe walks and talks like it too. But it's rotting away. It died long ago. So why should you pretend the corpse is alive? It moves, it rasps, but it's something else now; it only shares a body with the original, nothing else. So maybe it's time to let go, and begin to move forward.

[moonselune]

hii may I please request astarion, gale, and halsin with a reader who just comes outta nowhere and smacks their books outta their hands and calls them a nerd jokingly? (whenever I see them reading in camp makes me wanna do it lol)

gn reader pls :p

OMG I'VE WANTED TO DO THE SAME THING EVERY TIME

Gale:

Gale sat in the sunlit corner of your camp, deeply engrossed in a rare tome he had managed to procure. The book's ancient pages rustled softly as he turned them, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn't help but smile at his intense focus.

Without warning, you darted over and smacked the book out of his hands, sending it tumbling to the ground. "

Fucking Nerd!" you teased, grinning mischievously as you walked a few steps away from him.Gale's eyes widened in shock, and he let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his imaginary pearls.

"Do you have any idea how rare that book is?" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of genuine concern and playful reprimand. "It’s irreplaceable!"

You bent down, carefully picking up the tome and inspecting it for any damage. "I'm sorry," you said sincerely, stepping closer to him. You tilted his chin up gently and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Forgive me?"

Gale's stern expression melted into a smile as he sighed, shaking his head.

"You are impossible," he murmured, pulling you into a hug. "But I suppose a kiss is a fair trade for my rare book. Just don't make it a habit."

"It's not my fault you are such a nerd though!"

"Now you are just pushing your luck."

Astarion:

Astarion lounged on a large rock near the camp, flipping through a book with an air of nonchalance. The afternoon sun bathed him in a warm glow, and you couldn't resist the urge to disrupt his peaceful moment.

With a playful grin, you snuck up behind him and smacked the book out of his hands. "Nerd!" you shouted, laughing as the book hit the ground.

Astarion blinked in surprise before a devilish smirk spread across his face. "Oh, you're going to regret that, darling," he purred, leaping up and chasing after you.

You squealed in delight, sprinting away, but Astarion was quick. He tackled you to the ground, his weight pressing you gently into the grass. He hovered over you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Take it back," he demanded, peppering your face and neck with light, teasing kisses.

Giggling, you squirmed beneath him. "Okay, okay! I take it back!" you cried between fits of laughter.Satisfied, Astarion leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

"Much better," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Now as punishment, I must lay in your lap as you comb your fingers through my hair, reading my book aloud to me."

"That's quite a specific- Mmpf!" You were interrupted by another kiss and at this point you were a willing victim. "Okay, okay, I accept my punishment!"

Halsin:

Halsin sat at a rustic wooden table, his broad shoulders hunched over a thick book filled with ancient wisdom. You couldn't resist the opportunity to play a little prank on him. Quietly, you approached from behind and smacked the book out of his hands.

"Nerd!" you teased, laughing as the book landed with a thud.

Halsin looked up at you, a mock-hurt expression on his face. "That book contains centuries of druidic knowledge," he said, his voice tinged with faux sadness. "How could you?"

Feeling a pang of guilt, you quickly scooped up the book and placed it back in his hands. "I'm sorry, Halsin," you said sincerely, your eyes wide with remorse. "I was just joking."

A slow smile spread across Halsin's face as he reached out and pulled you into his lap. "I know, my little trickster," he said warmly. "But I believe I am owed an act of apology."

Without a second thought you leaned in and kissed him deeply, your lips conveying your affection and regret. Halsin's arms wrapped around you, holding you close, he pulled you into his lap. When you finally pulled back, he chuckled softly. "All is forgiven. But even academics need love too.'"

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. "Okay nerd, I’ll keep that in mind."

What can I say nonnie? Great minds think alike - Seluney xox

[akirathedramaqueen]

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action—not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

[l0relaii]

I NEED MORE SMOKING WITH JOSH 😩 him best friends brother!Josh teaching you how to smoke a joint and shotgunning it into your mouth HOLY HELL

oh yeah i need him to teach me cuz i've never smoked pot 😭😭

i'm sitting here with my pink little cigarettes trying to imagine they're joints I'M METHOD ACTING FOR YOUU

thank you @nerd-space for helping me with this <33

part 2

you knew josh smoked. you'd smoke with him sometimes. regular cigs tho

arghh imagine doing that thing where you press the tip of your cig to his to light it 😵‍💫

you did notice his eyes were sometimes a bit red but you didn't ask him about it 🤷‍♀️

then one time hannah invited you over at their place when their parents were gone on some fancy holiday

you watched a movie with him and his sisters then you went out on the balcony for a smoke break

and you noticed his cigarette was a bit.. odd?

"i thought you smoked malboros?"

"this ain't a regular cigarette sweetheart"

"what? oh-OH"

you watched as he lit it up and inhaled deeply every muscle in his body relaxing

"want some?"

"i've never-"

"it's not that complicated, just like a regular one, here let me help you, open your mouth"

you hesitate at first, unsure of what he'll do but you obey.

you see him coming closer while taking a drag of his joint and blowing the smoke into your mouth

you cough a bit when the smoke gets to your lungs

"oh fuck, sorry-"

"no need to apologise, it's normal, you'll get used to it, you'll see it'll feel nice"

your mind is racing and you've got goosebumps all over your skin.

are you high or was this just from how close you got with him?

"am i high?"

"oh no, not yet, you'll need sum more for that"

"could you.. do that again? please?"

he grabs your waist with his free hand pulling you really close to him before blowing some more smoke down your throat

eventually he does give you the joint to try it yourself and you start to feel like you're a bit drunk

everything gets slower all of a sudden and your body gets tingly

your eyes become heavy and you can't escape the ache between your legs whenever he touches you

you see him sitting down on a chair and without thinking you sit in his lap putting the joint back between his lips

"fuuuckk.. that feels.. nice.."

are you talking about the high or about his thigh on which you are currently grinding?

"told ya"

[natnatscorner]

Not used to this

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JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: You and the pogues have always gotten along. They all love you, except for one.. that would be JJ Maybank and not for the reason you'd think.

based on this request!

word count: 762

cw: none, fluffy

masterlist - outer banks masterlist

It's Friday night here in Outer Banks, and there's a small soiree for Kooks at the beach. Instead of going to enjoy yourself with your friends, you're working the night as a server since you need the community service hours. It's not too bad thankfully you're just serving food and drinks after all.

You stumble upon your pogue friends and Sarah. You decide to go towards them, giving them a sweet smile and wave. "Hey guys! I didn't expect to see you here." At the table are Kiara, Pope, John B, Sarah, and JJ. "Hey Y/N we decided to stop by for a bit, check it out maybe go to a party after." voiced John B. "Sounds fun! Can I get you guys anything a drink, something to eat? Night's been pretty slow surprisingly."

Pope was about to say something before JJ cut him off "We're not helpless Y/N, if we want something we'll get up and get it. Okay?" he spat. "Woah JJ, calm down I'm just doing my job, sorry for being a bother." You waved goodbye and walked away, feelings deeply hurt by his rough tone.

You're not sure why JJ acted like that towards you. You've always been nice to him and his friends, and treated them with respect, unlike others. It's okay if not everyone likes you, but there should be a reason why he treats you this way, right?

"JJ c'mon man, why'd you do that? She's always sweet towards us and you talk to her like that." John B and the group continued to scold JJ until he finally got up to apologize. "OKAY! I'm going, damn guys" He holds his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes as he walks towards you.

﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒

You're working the bar, making some mocktails. You're still thinking about JJ and how he spoke to you. Deep in your thoughts, you hear someone call your name. You turn around and speak of the devil—it's JJ.

"Hey uh, can we go somewhere and talk?" He asks quietly, looking a little embarrassed.

"Sure, let me just finish these drinks up. It won't long don't worry." You give him a quick smile and continue with your work. That damn smile he thought. Once you finish you let another server know you're taking a quick break. You both walk a few feet away from the venue and pause.

"Okay, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" You asked sweetly.

"I uh- just wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier, you don't deserve to be talked to that way." He said feeling lots of guilt building up. He doesn't want to come off rude to you, he knows that you are a kind-hearted person, but then again you're a Kook and they're all the same in the end, right?

"Hey it's okay, I get it. You think Kooks are assholes and trust me some check that box off but we're not all like that JJ. I mean look at Sarah, you like her, don't you? And she's dating John B, they seem to be doing really good despite being from different sides of the island. "

"I guess what I'm trying to ask is, why do you treat me like this?" You look up at him directly in the eyes.

He looks away from you and sighs. "I-I don't know. I feel really bad right now and I can't give you a real answer. I mean you're so kind to me, I guess I'm just not used to a pretty Kook like you being so kind. Based on the people I've seen you hang around, just didn't think you'd be like this.."

"You think I'm pretty?" You ask, crossing your arms with a big smile.

"Yeah, of course. You're beautiful Y/N." He looks at you smiling back.

You let out a small giggle. "Come here ya big dope." You go in to hug him. He's hesitant at first but after a few seconds, you feel him wrap his arms around your waist.

"So am I forgiven?" he asks still in the embrace.

You force yourself to pull back. "Yes JJ, of course." Looking at the time, you still have a good amount of time left. "Wanna walk around for a bit? I still have another 10 minutes."

"Sure why not?" You wrap your arm around his and walk around the beach admiring the sunset. Talking about the most stupid things ever until your break is up.

You still can't believe the reason he was so mean was because he actually had a crush on you? Definitely something you're not used to.

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© natnatscorner - please do not copy, repost or translate my works on here or any other platform!

[sissylittlefeather]

Hi there! I’m not exactly sure how to give links to songs, nor am I sure if I send this other places, but I do have a song I’d like to give for the event! “Your Love’s Been A Long Time Coming”, by Elvis, of course, and my only other request is that you have a good day/night! 💜

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 5: Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming

A/N: Aw thank you so much!!! I'm sorry this one is late. We're still dying of some kind of plague in my house and it's been rather distracting. But here it is!

(Also, as an aside, I have a whole fic series based on this song. If you're interested, find it here.)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~1.2k

You've had one bad relationship after another with men that hurt you over and over again. It's gotten so bad that you've sworn off dating altogether. It's just not worth the pain.

That's when Elvis collides with your life. No, really. He actually collides with you. He rear-ends your car in the middle of the night on your way home from work because you're too broke to get your tail lights fixed. He's ready to read you the riot act until you roll your window down and turn your tear-stained face up to him. When you realize who he is you stammer and apologize and cry even harder, but he's gentle and kind and he makes sure you and your car get home safely. Still, you're pretty sure you've seen the last of him.

But you haven't, not by a long shot. He turns up on your doorstep two days later with a bouquet of pink roses and the keys to a brand new station wagon. You sit on the porch and talk for a bit until he tries to persuade you to go to dinner with him. You're deep into telling him no when your son comes to the door to announce that whatever your mom is cooking is ready to eat. It's a veritable nightmare and you bury your blushing cheeks in your hands.

“What's for dinner, bud?” Elvis asks over you. Your 5 year old son, Benny, replies happily.

“Meatloaf!”

“I love meatloaf. Is there enough for me?” You sit up and shake your head. There's no way you're letting him come into the house you share with your aging mother and young son.

“We always have extra. Come on.” Benny pushes the screen door open and Elvis stands up before you can stop him. You want to sink into the floor as he stands in your tiny, messy living room, but Elvis continues to be gracious and sweet. He puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to him, whispering in your ear.

“It's okay, honey. I like it. It's nice and homey.” He pulls back and smiles down at you. You're not sure how it happens, but somehow you end up with Elvis Presley at your small dinner table, laughing and chatting with your little family. He and your son bond instantly over cars and football. He even manages a talk with your mother about church music and she blushes and calls him a ‘nice young man’. The conversation is easy and you seem to get along in a way that he hasn't experienced in a while. There's something about you, a simplicity and authenticity, that he can't get enough of. When the night comes to an end, you walk him back out to the front porch and he kisses your cheek and tells you he'd like to see you again. How on earth are you supposed to say no?

After a few more weeks of spending an inordinate amount of time together, you find yourself in his bedroom at Graceland. You know he's married, but that doesn't seem to matter to either of you as he kisses you deeply, his hands on your hips. He starts to move down your neck, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin under your ear.

“Elvis?”

“Hm?” He doesn't stop kissing your neck.

“Why do you like me?” Now he pulls back and looks down at you.

“Honey, I've been dating beauty queens and movie stars for so long, I forgot what a regular woman is like. You're a real person and I like who you are. You make me laugh and you're kind and warm and you don't see dollar signs when you look at me. You're smart and beautiful and you're a good mom. I've been waiting for someone like you for a long time.” You look up at him, your eyes glassy with tears.

“I think I've been waiting for you too.” He smiles and dives into another deep kiss and neither of you looks back. You shed clothing left and right as you stumble to the bed, his hands running over your naked skin. He presses his lips anywhere he can get them and lays you on the bed gently. In a matter of seconds, he has you spread open for him, his tongue dipping into your pussy between hard licks over your clit. Your hand goes to his hair as you whimper and moan and get closer and closer to your climax. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure and you've never had a man try this hard to get you off. He feels your walls flutter and tighten on his fingers and hums, the vibration making you see stars. It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, your pussy throbbing around him as the lightning bolts run in your veins.

“God, you're pretty when you cum.” He whispers as he sits back up, situating your ankles on his shoulders. You bite your bottom lip as he teases your sensitive entrance with the head of his cock. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes, oh yes please!” You whimper breathlessly as he starts to slowly push into you, giving you time to adjust to the size of him. It feels so good, being filled like this, and the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. When he bottoms out, his whole cock inside you, he stops for a second and groans.

“You're so tight, baby. So fuckin’ tight. You're perfect.” You moan as he slowly pulls back and then thrusts forward, filling you again. “Does it feel good?”

“Feels so good! Oh!” He smiles down at you and kisses your ankle as he starts to pick up a steady rhythm of fucking into you.

“You got such pretty little sooties, baby.” He kisses your ankle again as his hand caresses your foot, his dick sliding in and out of you at an even pace.

“God, Elvis, this is amazing.” You moan as he rearranges your legs to be around his hips. He leans over on top of you and whispers in your ear.

“I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight.”

“But aren't you–”

“That's over. Has been for a while now. I want you, baby, for the long haul. Tell me you want me too.” He holds both of your wrists in one of his hands above your head and runs his fingertips down your body with the other.

“Yes, Elvis. Yes, I want you.” He grips your hip with his free hand and starts to pump into you faster and harder.

“Good. I'm gonna cum, baby.”

“Me too, oh god.” He slams into you hard and deep and you hit your climax simultaneously, both of you pulsing and panting and melting into each other. As your bodies relax and you come down from your shared high, he presses his sweaty forehead to yours.

“I love you, baby. I know it's quick, but I've loved you since I first saw you.”

“Oh, Elvis. It's not quick. This has been a long time comin’ for me. I love you too.” He smiles and rests his head on your chest.

“It has for me too, baby. It has for me too.”

******

The End

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[devotedfem]

→ Mean

Synopsis: You weren't innocent at all, yoongi can see right throughout your act and fake tears. It was almost like you were challenging him, but he didn't have enough proves. The only thing he can do is tame a liar brat like you.

Yoongi x f.reader

Genre: detective au | yander-ish

Tags: mean min yoongi, crude language, sassy reader, possesive behavior, yander-ish, a bit of stalking, Jungkook and reader's situationship, detectives, dealers.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

A.N: hello there, this is my first time writting on tumblr. I've always been obsessed with crime tv shows and Yoongi's mv where he wears that police outfit. Anyway i hope you enjoy!

Yoongi watched every expression of your face like a hawk through the glass separating him from the interrogation room, where you were trembling with teary eyes.

You were pretty, and the way you talked with such fear and vulnerability made you look innocent, but yoongi didn't believe your act, his guts telling him you weren't that innocent, you just were playing with them.

"I didn't knew Jungkook was a dealer, i swear to god. I-i am in love with him," your lips wobble with fat tears staining your redding cheeks.

Your hurt expression was a pitiful sight.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, you were starting to piss him off. Really.

"Fucking liar," he huffs under his breath, crossing his arms with an angry grimace.

"Do you think she's lying?" Asked Namjoon next to him.

"I don't need to think it, because the evidence proves she's guilty like her boyfriend. We found her right where Jeon sells his shit," said matter of fact yoongi, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Well yoongi-ssi, that evidence isn't enough to arrest her. There's the possibility that it's a coincidence, we need more proves."

Yoongi rolled his eyes with frustation.

"My guts are never wrong and you know that."

Namjoon says nothing, just watching the girl at the other side of the room sobbing and looking heart broken.

"I'm going in, tell Mingyu to go the fuck out, he isn't doing anything useful."

Yoongi's coworker only sighs deeply, knowing how stubborn the other was.

You were alone in the room for a couple of minutes, sniffling. You felt their eyes on you, so you didn't stopped your tears.

The door of the room opened, showing a pale man with raven locks slicked back. His dark coat and the scar across his eye made him look intimidating, but not for you.

You felt a spark of curiosity at his angry scowl that was directed towards you.

Interesting.

"I- can i go home now?" You asked with a thin voice, looking at him with wide eyes.

" 'Don't think so, not until you confess." He said sharply, with narrow eyes watching every expression of your face.

You try to hide your smirk with a pout, loving the attention.

"I have nothing more to say, please let me go," you almost beg, wobbling your lips again, not breaking your blurry eyes from him.

But his face was stoic, unfazed by your tactics.

"We asked the people who worked in the bar your boyfriend sells drugs, and they all said you were a frequent client." He said with an unreadable face.

"I am! But-but i didn't knew he was a dealer, he said to me that he met his friends there, and i wanted to accompany him." Your eyes were closed with exasperation.

The raven haired man only hummed, getting up from his chair to walk forwards you, towering your body with piercing eyes.

It was an intimidation tactic, but you were kind of turn on by his closeness.

"I don't believe you," he almost spat, not breaking his dark gaze.

You made a crestfallen face, looking right back at him with vulnerable eyes.

"I wouldn't lie about something like that officer," you whispered not swallowing the fake tears.

The corner of his lips twitch a little.

"Detective," he corrected you rather harshly.

"Sorry, detective..." You paused, looking at his police badge, "yoongi."

His breath hitch for a second, but he immediately masked it with an indifferent face, but you caught it nevertheless.

Your teeth bit the bottom of your lips trying to hide your smirk again.

"What kind of girlfriend doesn't know her boyfriend sells drugs just right under her nose," he said with a straight face, but his tone was mockery.

That was a low blow, he wanted to make you look stupid.

Fine then, you'll play dumb.

"That's... so mean detective, how could i thought so low of Jungkook. He never gave me a reason to doubt," your voice broke again, diverting your eyes to look at your lap.

You felt a warm breath next to your ear, making your belly twist by his closeness.

"You're good at this, but you won't fool me. I'll be watching you, liar." He said lowly, with a very threatening voice that didn't scared you at all, it just aroused you.

"I hope you do detective, who else will protect me from Jungkookie," the whisper you let out shattered your act, making Yoongi's eyes widen just a bit.

"You can go now," he said expressionless, separating himself from your body.

You leaved feeling his piercing eyes on your back.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Yoongi accomplish his promise, he followed you everywhere. Although not enough to make himself look like a stalker but a detective.

And you never stopped going to the bar, almost like you were challenging him, letting him know that not matter what he says, you can do whatever you want.

"Brat," he said under his breath, watching you from afar dancing in the bar.

You knew he was there, his long black coat and raven locks were difficult to go unnoticed, so you throw some mischievous glances at him from the other side of the place, almost like inviting him to come closer. But Yoongi never did, he just stay sat in his chair, watching you.

You were getting bored, so you dance with a stranger.

Yoongi's eyes immediately sharpens and darkens at you, his beer left untouched. All his focus on you, just like you wanted.

You came closer to the stranger's body, ignoring his nasty and boring remarks, and brushed your lips against his jaw, not breaking your gaze from Yoongi's face.

You looked the exact moment where he clenched his jaw and narrow even more his eyes. Getting up from his chair.

A pang of disappointment took over your chest, maybe he was tired of the teasing.

You pouted pettily at the thought, now losing all your interest in the man you were dancing with.

"Get away from her," a harsh voice made you and the stranger startled.

You turn around to look at a pissed off Yoongi who has his eyes fixed on the stranger.

This time you couldn't hide your smirk.

"What? No, what the fuck is wrong with you dude," the man said back, and you watched how Yoongi smirked cynically, making a shiver run down your spine.

The raven haired detective said nothing, his eyes never broke away from the stranger. He moved away his coat a little, so the strange could look at the gun in Yoongi's hips.

You felt the way the man freeze, getting the fuck away without saying another word, making you huff. He was so easy to scare, what a coward.

Yoongi's hand on your shoulder took your attention back to him.

"Abusing your power, aren't you detective?" You teased with mirth.

"Didn't you have a boyfriend? Where did all those shed tears go? Hmm?" He asked instead, checking you out from head to toe.

And you were basking in the attention.

"Jungkookie will forgive me," you said innocently, biting your lip to stop your smirk. Yoongi watch the movement before looking at your eyes again.

"Really? He looked like the possessive type," that made you laugh hard, like if he just said the most funny joke.

Yoongi looked puzzled.

"Not at all, he fuck around with men and women, we aren't exclusive." You said, not caring if you admited that you lied to the police.

Yoongi only hummed.

"But..." You said getting closer to him, feeling his warm, "i would say you're the possessive type, aren't you? Scaring that man away so no one touch your target." The teased went straight to Yoongi's ego, making him anger a bit.

"Watch your mouth," he warns, but you didn't listen.

"Or what?"

Something dark flash in Yoongi's eyes.

"Are you challenging me?" He asked, like he didn't believe someone has the guts to do that.

"Why can i? It's fun," you said light heartedly, and half joking. But Yoongi saw right throughout you.

"Unless you don't want to regret your life choices and rot in jail, i recommend you to shut up," his words were harsh but his tone was rather calm.

You only pouted at the threat.

"But i'm too pretty and nice to go to a place like that," You whined.

Yoongi's lips twitch with a smirk, getting closer to your body.

"You're right on that. That's why i'll be kind and give you another chance," his low voice was near your ear.

His words took all of your interest immediately. You watched him with suspicion though.

"At what cost?"

Yoongi smirked.

"You'll come with me, and tell me every little secret of your so-called boyfriend," he mocked.

"And what if i don't?" You said not wanting to give in.

He grabbed your waist tightly.

"I'll find ways to take that information out of you."

Let me know if u want to be tagged to my next oneshots.

[starry-bi-sky]

Names, Marbles, and Fae-vors - More Lore on my Changeling Danny Au

In my last post I talked about the Infinite Realms and the three different planes existing inside it - the Long Far, Home to the Ancients and Celestial Beings. The Fey Wilds, Home of the Fey and other such Mythological Constructs. And the Ghost Zone, Home to the Mortal Spirits. - as well as three of the different ways beings inside the Infinite Realms can travel between planes; the Lake Portals, the Cave Tunnels, and the Starflare Currents. The Lake Portals and the Cave Tunnels don't have an official term for them yet, but I'll come up with something :).

In this post we'll be talking about some of the abilities of the fey! Specifically the things they're most popularly known for: their name stealing and etiquette thing.

For those who are not as well-versed in Fey Lore, or need a refresher, (and because I just want to yap infodump), one of the first rules you learn when interacting with the Fey is that you never, ever, say "thank you" or "I'm sorry" to them! Which is crazy, because they're really big on etiquette and being polite to each other, which is why one of their epithets is "the Good Neighbor/s". So why should you not say two phrases most commonly used when being polite to someone?

There are two big reasons for this, and the reason I'll be focusing on for this au is because, to the Fey, saying "Thank You" is acknowledgement of a debt that's owed to them. It turns the action or gift into something transactional, and results in a verbal contract that the receiver must then repay later down the line -- and whatever point in time, and with whatever the Fey they are indebted to sees fit. Whether that be food, valuables, or your firstborn child.

The other big reason is because some Fey just think it's rude, and view "thank you" as something that dilutes their act of kindness, and/or implies that they are there to serve you. One of the best summarizations I've seen for fey is that they're bros; they're doing this because they think you're friends -- or something similar to the sort. It's deeply insulting to do all these nice things for a friend, only for that friend to reveal that they don't view you the same way at all.

It's for similar reasons that you also shouldn't say, "I'm sorry" either, except instead of repaying a gift, you are now making reparations for a wrong you have done. A misdeed must be repaid in full, now how are you going to make it up to them? And also because well, I imagine that if saying "thank you" is seen as rude, "I'm sorry" is the exact same way because it dilutes the act.

If you're in a situation where you must say "thank you" or "i'm sorry" there are ways to get around it. "I'm grateful", "you're too kind", "I apologize", or "I feel regret" are just some examples I saw used.

NOW! How is this used in my Changeling AU? The Fey work by these same rules, the only difference is that I've added a physical aspect to it! If Fey are capable of stealing the abstract and turning the incorporeal corporeal, then lets run with it!

"Thank Yous" and "I'm Sorrys" are debts, and Fey can magically bound you into a verbal contract with that alone. However, it's not uncommon -- and actually pretty standard -- for Fey to weave the excess magic of that debt into something physical. They create these delicate-looking, iridescent threads that they then weave into their hair for decoration. And in some areas of the Fey Wilds, use it as a way to show off wealth and/or their own wit.

Ever heard of Fairy Hair? Yeah, same concept.

Debt Threads, as I am temporarily calling them, are thin and airy, and not that much thicker than gossamer. Since it's a debt that is intended to eventually be paid back, it's not practical -- nor is it seen as such -- to use the threads for anything more than temporary cosmetics. As a result, they're usually used for decorating the hair, but some crafty fey use their threads to decorate other appendages, or as form of makeup. Despite their dainty appearance, the threads are actually very sturdy and can only be unweaved by the Fey that created it.

You can, technically, take back your debt thread. However, the threads are made using excess magic of the debt, and not made of the magic of the debt itself, which is why it's so thin and airy. So if you do manage to get it, congrats! All you've got is some pretty string and a pissed off feyrie whose hair you probably just yanked out.

Danny's managed to accrue a few "debts" before he realizes he's a fey, mostly from his friends and sister -- although there are a few from his parents, and some from the other student body from when he was unknowingly and instinctually doing Fey Bullshit. As a result, he starts forcing Sam and Tucker and Jazz to stop thanking him for things, and typically makes them repay him through petty, menial stuff. Like getting him food, or buying him a small but relatively inexpensive trinket he's been eyeing for a while. Never usually anything super important - it's his own way of apologizing for indebting them to him in the first place.

As for his parents... well, he'll hold onto those debts for now. Having a way to magically get them off his back with no questions asked is a boon he's pretty willing to keep close to his chest, and no amount of persuasion will convince him otherwise. Sorry Jazz, Fey side wins out on this one. As for some of the students he's got, Danny manages to psych himself up and release some of them from their contracts without repayment -- even if it makes his bones itch.

AND NOW THE NAMES! You never give a Fey your name because they say everything literally. "Can I have your name?" is a literal question -- they are asking for your name, and thus ownership over you. The other thing is that Names have power, if a fey knows your Full Name they can make you do things for them -- however it goes both ways so you could do the same thing if you learn a Fey's name.

Knowing a Name and owning a Name are two different things, with owning a Name being, naturally, more dangerous as you are basically submitting yourself to permanent indentured servitude, among other things. Knowing a Name can be risky because it results in being more susceptible to fey charms, enchantments, and requests.

But! I digress! Just like how Thank Yous and I'm Sorrys can be turned into a physical object, so can Names! This is not obligatory, nor is it recommended to do often because unlike debt threads, these can be taken back, but it happens!

Names can be trapped in these little, colorful glass-like orbs -- marbles, they're marbles/pearls. They can be trapped in what are basically magic marbles, and just like debt threads, be used for decoration. They're more versatile though, and are used for different things since unlike debt threads, the pearls are meant to be permanent! They make beautiful jewelry, since the pearls come in various different colors depending on the person it once belonged to, and the intent behind its creation.

The marbles have a hard outer shell, with the cores having a fluid, shimmery appearance. Look up liquid core dice, and Name Marbles have a similar appearance, just more... ethereal, with different shades of the same color swirling inside. Not two pearls look the same, and even ones that have similar colors or appearances have subtle differences in them that are imperceptible to the mortal eye. Some pearls look like the deepest trenches of the ocean, blacks and dark blues swirling around each other as flecks of bioluminescence float inside. While others look like a lilac winter sunset, with hand-held purples bleeding into pink and gold.

Convincing Danny to return the Names he's gotten is harder than convincing him to absolve the debts. It takes a lot more psyching up on his part to actually do it, and more verbal coaxing and negotiating on his friends' part. Because on an instinctual fey level, those names are rightfully his. For all intents and purposes, he was given those names freely and without reservation, and so to be told that he has to return what were essentially gifts to him is... deeply distressing.

Lots of cognitive dissonance there. His human-raised brain and morals know why he needs to give them back, and he feels bad for owning them. But his new changeling-baby fey-brain is deeply upset at the prospect, and is a liittle bit stronger than the once-human part of him. He rapidly becomes overwhelmed when trying to convince himself to return the Names. He does, eventually, end up doing it, but he's unwillingly upset the whole time.