#I’ve just been in that situation multiple times so like. those are my thoughts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

likeumeanit9497 · 5 months ago

Text

just like that | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

based on this request :))

summary: after dating for four months without having sex, y/n finally decides that she's ready to take matt for a ride

warnings: smut; established relationship; unprotected p in v; oral (fem receiving); riding; mentions of questionable consent (NOT with matt dw); dirty talk; 18+

notes: damn i completely forgot about this im so sorry:/ i've just been so busy over the past week or so it completely went under the radar. def not my best work (i wrote it all today), but i wanted to get it up because i'm going on a trip through europe for 6 (SIX???!!?!?!) weeks and will probably not be able to post much when im there. anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

p.s. working on one more fic that i would LOVE to post before i leave tomorrow, if not it might be a while before im able to write again :/ it's gonna be a good one for the matt girlies though so keep ur eyes peeled ;)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Do you want anything from the kitchen baby?” Matt’s soft voice in my ear pulled me from the lull I was in, curled up beside him on the couch watching a movie. My drooping eyes fluttered open and I couldn’t help but smile once I came face-to-face with my beautiful boyfriend. The late-August sun was setting, and it shone through the living room windows in just the way that made Matt’s gorgeous blue eyes almost transparent; a harsh contrast to his dark eyelashes and tidy beard. He was looking at me with such unclouded care, the way he always did, and it never failed to make my heart flutter.

Matt and I had met on social media about six months ago, and started dating just two months after that. Our earliest conversations online had consisted of occasionally discussing our shared interest in pretty embarrassing hobbies — playing Minecraft, journaling, and watching rom-coms to name a few — but those occasional conversations evolved into staying up all night messaging each other, multiple-hour long Facetime calls, and eventually meeting at a restaurant for our first date.

Although it hadn’t been long since we started dating, Matt’s soul was one that I felt like I’ve known all my life. Never before had I felt more at home around another person than I did once I met him, and his presence in my life gave it a new level of stability that didn’t exist before. I had dated a guy in high school for almost two years, but the quality in the time spent with Matt versus him was incomparable. I was sure that Matt was the person that I was meant to be with, and everyday he did something new to prove that to be true without even trying.

Another thing that I loved so much about Matt was that, even after months of dating, he hasn’t once pushed me to have sex with him. In one of our early conversations, I had told him that my ex had always made me feel bad when I would turn down sex with him. While him and I did have sex a few times during our relationship, I had since come to terms with the fact that I really was just doing it to make him happy. Once Matt got over his immediate anger for me, he had sat me down and told me that he could wait forever, but that he won’t have sex with me unless I tell him I’m ready.

That was months ago, and still, he has kept his promise. While we have done plenty of other things in bed, he has always made it a point to stop everything before it gets to the point of sex. At first, I felt riddled with guilt because I felt like I should want to have sex with my boyfriend —especially one so kindhearted as Matt — but over time that guilt has fizzled out from Matt’s reassuring words and actions. He never ever put me in situations that he knew had the potential to make me uncomfortable, and wouldn’t allow me to feel bad about it either.

Lately, though, I had been feeling slightly different. While before, I would squirm at the thought of anything more happening once Matt’s hand would slip out of my panties, now I feel a slight tightening in my stomach at the idea of more. And before, I would feel a certain level of nervousness as I felt the weight of his member in my hand, where now there is a flutter in my core at the thought of that same part of him filling me up.

Never before in my life had I felt any of these feelings, and I didn’t quite know what to do with them. I was afraid of the abundance of dirty thoughts that flooded my own head constantly, and I realized that I was ready for more, but only with Matt. I had been contemplating on telling him this for the past week, but as I watched him walk back over to me on the couch in nothing but baggy grey sweats — the black ink of his tattoos hypnotizing me — my body reacted in such a way that let me know that tonight was the night.

“Here, I know you didn’t say you wanted anything but I grabbed you a water anyways. I haven’t seen you drink any yet today and you-” I cut Matt’s rambling off by climbing on top of his lap as soon as he was back on the couch; wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a deep kiss to his pink lips. He responded with a soft hum against my lips before wrapping his own arms around the small of my back. I opened my mouth slightly before pressing it against his again and moving them in a slow but passionate rhythm. Matt quickly followed suit, slipping his tongue through my parted lips before using it to explore my mouth. I fluttered my eyes open for a brief moment and caught a glimpse of Matt’s most beautiful features up close — lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, straight eyebrows — and released a satisfied sigh against his mouth.

I ran my hands through his soft brown hair, tugging slightly at the ends and eliciting a soft gasp from him as I felt my body flood with arousal. His hands travelled up and down my back, his firm yet somehow delicate touch a comfort that eased my nerves. From my place on his lap, I could feel a growing hardness against my ass. This wasn’t uncommon, obviously, but in the past I usually pretended to ignore it pressing against me. This time however, I rolled my hips up and down, feeling it slide against my aching core. “Baby.” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper against my lips, but the combination of shock and arousal was still evident in its tone as he grabbed firmly onto my forearms to hold me still.

I detached my mouth from his while still keeping our faces just centimetres apart. His breath was rapid, but so was mine as we stayed like that for a moment; wild eyed and equally uncertain. Finally, I repeated my action by grinding my hips against his clothed shaft; this time watching as his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He mumbled, clearly wavering between making sure I was okay and wanting desperately for more. I continued grinding my hips against him, my mouth dropping open as I felt his shaft reach my nerves. “I want you Matt.” I whispered, and I watched as his eyes widened in shock; pupils dilated. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly, brushing his knuckles softly against my arms.

“I mean, I’m ready. Ready to have sex again.” I blurted out, feeling my face immediately flush in equal parts nervousness and arousal as I waited for him to respond. His face was unreadable as he clearly tried to gauge whether or not I was serious. That was confirmed once he finally spoke. “A-are you sure? I don’t want you to think just because I’m hard we have to do anything, baby.” I felt his dick twitch in between my legs as he spoke, and it shot electricity down my spine. “I know Matt, but I really am sure.” I responded, running my hands up and down his bare chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in my path.

He continued to stare at me, his eyes travelling wildly across my face; clearly still in a state of uncertainty. I, on the other hand, was growing more and more frustrated by the moment as the heat continued to grow between my legs. “Give me your hand.” I stated, and he obliged; placing his much larger hand in my own. I guided his hand down to the waistband of my sweatpants, inside of the material, and finally slid it against my dripping wet core. Intaking a sharp breath from the contact, I watched his face as it immediately darkened once he felt my arousal coat his fingertips.

“See? I told you I’m ready,” I leaned forward slightly, bringing my lips to his exposed collarbone and kissing it wetly. “So please Matt, can you fuck me?” The room stayed silent for a beat, the only sounds being our ragged breathing, and I felt fear begin to trickle down my spine; worried that Matt might reject me. Just as I was about to retract everything I had just said, Matt’s hand snaked to the back of my head, guiding it up from his chest before crashing his lips onto mine.

I deepened the kiss immediately, feeling a mutual level of desperation like a surge of electricity between our lips that had never been there before. Matt’s hands began traveling all across my writhing body — taking his time on the curves of my ass — before planting firmly on my hips where he helped them grind against his rock hard member. Breathy, almost silent moans fell from both of our lips as our bodies slid against each other, and the deep-rooted sensation was taunting.

Matt’s hands slithered from my hips up to the bottom of my t-shirt, where he toyed with the material for a moment before detaching his lips from mine. “Can I take this off?” He asked, glazed eyes staring longingly into my own. I nodded, and without a moment’s hesitation my vision was blocked for a brief second by Matt peeling the fabric over my head and tossing it to the side. Once my vision returned, my view was of Matt’s hungry eyes glued to my bare chest.

Matt had seen my tits countless times before throughout our relationship, but at this moment it was like he was seeing them for the very first time. Mouth slightly parted, his breathing was ragged as he brought both hands to my chest and cupped my tits delicately between them; pushing them together slightly and brushing a thumb along each nipple. I hissed at the feeling, and that seemed to pull him from his trance, as his eyes immediately shot up to mine. “This okay baby?” He asked, and I nodded my head wildly.

A smirk toyed at the corners of his mouth before he attached it to my left nipple. I released short moans as he sucked and nibbled it gently, still pressing my core against his throbbing shaft. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into a trance that I had never experienced before, and it was like my body and mind had completely separated as I mindlessly tugged desperately at the waistband of his sweats. Catching on to my gesture, Matt shifted slightly below me before using one of his hands to haphazardly pull his sweats down slightly; allowing his cock to spring up in between my legs.

I gasped at the sight before me, only now realizing its true size with it between my legs and feeling just a tinge of excited fear trying to figure out just how it was going to fit inside of me. Shaking the thought from my mind, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth before spitting it in my hand and bringing it down to his shaft.

Running my thumb along his slit, I felt his whole body shudder below me from the contact. I began pumping my hand up and down his length; spending extra time twisting my wrist around his sensitive tip, and watched as his mouth went slack on my tits. “Mmm, keep doing it just like that baby.” He muttered against my plump skin, and I continued to work his cock in my hand while simultaneously grinding my core against its base. Just knowing that I was making him feel good was making me feel good, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head in pleasure.

After a few short moments, I felt Matt’s hands snake to the waist band of my own sweats. My eyes found his again, and I watched as they searched my face. “You’re sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with a huskiness that could only be explained as pure desire. I nodded desperately once again, feeling so pathetic but not capable of giving a shit. “I’m sure baby, please.” My voice had a slight whine to it, making my frantic need even more evident.

Planting a soft kiss to my lips, he grabbed firmly onto my sweats and began peeling them off of my body. I lifted my hips up slightly to assist him in this, and once I dropped them back down, I hissed from the feeling of my bare core against his cock. “Matty, I need you right now.” I practically cried out, leaning my body forward and planting nibbles and kisses along his exposed neck. The suspense was torturous, my body only just now recognizing how badly it was craving his.

His hands cupped my ass, and he used his grip to lift me just a couple inches off of him. I felt him spread me open slightly before dragging a finger once again against my aching folds. “Mmm, so wet for me baby.” I released a breathy moan at the combination of his touch and words, and squirmed in his grasp. “I’ll help you get it in, but I want you on top. That way you can take it as slow as you need to, okay?” His voice softened as he spoke, and his hands massaged me gently causing me to physically relax. “O-okay.” I muttered, so turned on that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted me to.

Just then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips before I felt the very tip of his cock brush against my opening; causing me to gasp. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll go slow.” He whispered in my ear, and I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck in anticipation. Finally, I felt my walls begin to expand as he pressed the first few inches into me. Moaning at the sensation, I felt my whole body flush in immediate lust. As if they had a mind of their own, my hips subconsciously began lowering onto his shaft; taking more and more of him as I sunk down.

A moan fell from his lips as my walls enveloped him inch by inch, and I slowly lifted my head from his neck and straightened my body up to allow more of him to fill me up. Even though he was big and I hadn’t had a dick in me in a long time, my slick arousal allowed him to bottom out without causing me to feel any pain; only indescribable pleasure. Once every inch of him was in me, I stayed still for a moment looking down at him. His desire was plastered across every inch of his face, and it made him look impossibly beautiful. There was no fear in me in that moment, only want, and so I began riding him.

As soon as I propelled my body up and down his shaft just once, I felt a pit of arousal begin to grow in my stomach. Groaning in pleasure, I continued with my moments; holding onto his shoulders to keep my trembling body stable. “Mmm you feel so good baby.” Matt moaned out, his eyes never leaving my pinched face. After a while, my body adjusted completely to his size and I was able to increase my speed. As I slid my walls up and down his shaft, Matt gripped onto my ass with all his might, using his hands to help me maintain my speed.

Moans fell from my lips as his cock ruthlessly hit my g-spot, and I felt my lower stomach build in pressure. “Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, feeling my skin go flush from the heat of the moment. The room filled with the echo of our wet skin slapping against each other, adding to the erotic air around us. Prolonged strings of moans fell aimlessly from my lips, and as I came closer and closer to my impending climax I began struggling to maintain my movements.

Matt seemed to pick up on this, as he adjusted his hips and began pounding into me from below; his hands holding me in place where I just clung onto him for dear life. “F-fuck Matty, like that. S-so good.” I cried out, my voice choppy from his rapid movements. My brain melted into a pool of liquid as all I could think about was reaching my high that was just out of reach. “You’re taking me so good baby.” Matt groaned out as he continued driving his length into me, staring deeply into my eyes with a fogged over expression.

“I-I think I’m gonna — oh god, think I’m g-gonna cum Matt.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, struggling to give into this new overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside of me. At this, a guttural moan fell from his lips and he somehow increased the speed of his thrusts even more. “Want you to cum around me baby, please.” There was a desperate whine to his voice as he spoke through his shortness of breath, and it was enough for me to reach my climax. Legs shaking, I released a plethora of moans and curses as my body was hit with multiple waves of indescribable pleasure. “Good girl, feels so good honey.” Matt’s voice was soft in my ear, and it helped to bring me back to earth as my hurricane of an orgasm left my body in shambles.

I continued to bounce on Matt’s dick slowly as I attempted to regain what little composure I had before my orgasm stole it from me, but I quickly learned that all of my energy had been stripped away. My body was trembling uncontrollably, and my head was filled with a fog that made it difficult for me to stay upright. Matt caught on to this, as he planted his hands firmly on my hips, keeping me still, before reaching forward and kissing me deeply. “You tired, baby?” He asked gently, rubbing circles on my sensitive skin. Sheepishly, I nodded, and Matt didn’t hesitate before guiding me off of his lap and helping me lay down on the couch.

As soon as my head hit the soft material, I felt my body immediately begin to relax again. I watched from my place on the couch as Matt began to slowly crawl over to me, before leaning above me. “You did so good baby,” He brought his lips to my chest and began dropping soft kisses against my skin, “Now,” His mouth travelled from my chest down to my stomach, “I want you to just lay here and relax,” He continued to move his lips down my stomach to my hips, “Let me make you feel good, okay?” His face was now hovering above my swollen heat, and I couldn’t help but nod frantically, feeling a sudden need to have his mouth on me.

Matt situated his body so that he could lay down with his face still just above my core. He brought both of his hands to my folds and I flinched as he used his thumbs to spread them apart slightly; exposing my bundle of nerves to the air. My vision partially skewed by his hair flopping in front of his eyes, I watched in awe as he brought his mouth closer and closer to where I needed it the most; before immediately gasping in pleasure once I felt his warm tongue make contact with my clit.

Immediately, Matt got to work in swirling his tongue in expert circles on my overstimulated nerves. This sensation in combination with his rough beard against my inner thighs was so intense it was almost painful in the best way possible, and I was incapable of controlling the throaty moans that fell from my lips as I watched him devour me entirely. Matt then used his mouth to suck on my nerves, bringing forward yet another new sensation that drove me crazy. It felt so unbelievably good, my hands flew to his hair where I held firmly; doing everything in my power to keep him in place. “Oh yeah baby, please, just like that.” I struggled to get the words out through my constant gasps of pleasure, but it was clear that they didn’t fall on deaf ears as Matt moaned in pleasured acknowledgement against my heat and kept his rhythm and pressure the exact same.

Feeling another orgasm begin to bear its teeth in my stomach, it was like my hips grew a mind of their own because as soon as Matt brought his hands under my ass to lift me slightly up on the couch; I began grinding my heat against his eager mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned against my clit as he continued to greedily suck and lick my nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut as a whine escaped my lips from an approaching orgasm, the pleasure that his mouth was giving me was too much. “S-stop baby.” I said suddenly, to which he immediately detached his mouth from me and I watched as his eyes scanned my fucked out face. “What’s wrong? You want to stop?” He seemed so concerned, clearly worried that he had somehow crossed a boundary, and it caused my chest to flutter. “N-no. It’s just, I was gonna cum again.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow, clearly confused by how that might be a problem. “I…I want to cum with you.” I finally said, and watched as his facial expression changed from one of concern back to one filled with lust.

He smiled quickly before dragging his body up my own, planting occasional kisses along my body on his way. Once he reached my head, he immediately began kissing me passionately, slipping his tongue through my parted lips and allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. Pulling away, I noticed my arousal laced throughout his beard, and that along with his pink swollen lips fresh off of my heat was enough to make my head spin. Just then, I felt him line his shaft up with my entrance, and immediately gasped out when he slid it in completely. Before moving at all, Matt took a moment to gaze down at my destroyed face before grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. He then leaned forward and propped himself on his forearms on either side of my head; slipping a hand through my hair and grabbing onto it gently.

After noticing my body relax, he finally began thrusting into me. Starting off slow and deep, he gradually increased his speed until he was pounding his inches deep into me at a rapid pace. Already being close to cumming, I struggled to get a grip on my thoughts as the pleasure of the moment pulled me deeper and deeper into a world of euphoria. “You’re so tight sweetheart.” He muttered through his grunts, and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head at his words. “F-feels so good Matty.” I managed to reply, tightening my legs around his waist as I tried everything I could to hold off my orgasm.

Matt’s hand snaked through my hair before he grabbed onto my cheek, brushing it gently with his thumb as he stared at me with a gaze so intense that it was almost intimidating. “I-I’m close Y/n.” He nearly whispered, and I felt his pace begin to slow slightly as he began to be overtaken by his own orgasm. My eyebrows knitted together as I felt my walls began to break. “M-me too.” I replied, wrapping my hands tightly around his biceps to keep me grounded. “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby.” His erotic words were followed by a string of animalistic grunts as he drove his cock in and out of me — slow but hard — and it was like my body was waiting to hear those words as my second orgasm immediately ran through me like a freight train.

My breathy moans harmonized with his deep ones, and I felt my walls contract around his shaft; milking his dick as it painted them white. My legs were wrapped so tightly around his waist, he was barely able to move them as we both rode the waves of our intense pleasure. As my orgasm continued to tear through me, my back arched off of the couch and my body trembled. From above me, Matt watched me writhe in bliss as his movements completely stopped. As I finally began coming down from my high, I felt his hand brush through my hair affectionately, and watched as his face turned up in a smile before he placed a deep kiss to my lips.

He gently pulled his cock out of me, causing me to wince from the raw pain, before laying beside me on the couch and pulling me into him. Face to face, we stared lovingly at each other for a moment; my mind still spinning from how good he had made me feel, and in that moment I was worried that my heart might explode. His blissed expression told me that he was feeling the same, and his hand delicately rubbing the small of my back confirmed it. “Are you okay?” He finally asked, minor concern visible on his beautiful face. “I’m more than okay.” I answered honestly with a chuckle, causing him to laugh in relief as well. “I think I actually love sex.” I continued, causing him to really laugh this time before planting a kiss on my sweat-beaded forehead. “Well I think I actually love you.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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nocasdatsgay · 20 days ago

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A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist.

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect.

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight.

“What?” Eris looked at his mate.

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.”

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said.

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves.

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?”

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.”

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered.

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him.

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.”

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him.

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.”

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging.

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.”

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat.

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked.

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed.

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.”

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered.

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?”

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled.

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands.

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start.

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit.

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly.

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?”

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again.

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look.

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?”

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them.

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her.

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.”

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down.

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again.

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink.

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep.

There was a break in the letter and she added.

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may.

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved.

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back.

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond.

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said.

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed.

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window.

She is awake. a shadow whispered.

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened.

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were.

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.”

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea.

“Zemër, tell me what happened.”

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed.

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.”

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?”

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own.

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?”

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly.

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go.

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.”

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.”

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.”

She nodded and he winnowed away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before.

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him.

“You came back,” Eris whispered.

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to.

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.”

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?”

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question.

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it.

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment.

“She’s not coming back.”

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?”

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice.

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly.

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.”

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit.

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall.

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?”

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning.

You sighed and tried to go to sleep.

Part 3

#neapolitan bonds #eris vanserra #acotar #azriel #azriel/eris/reader #reader x Azris #part 2 #a lesson in heartbreak

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sugrhigh · 3 months ago

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #hockey!chris #hockey au #sturniolo fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic

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otomehoneyybearr · 2 months ago

Text

Kagari Amagase

XXX With The Spoiled Demon

Oh my-- .... NSFW MDNI Please

One quiet night, under the softly twinkling stars—

I was at Prince Kagari's hideout, feeling so nervous that it seemed like my heart was about to jump out of my chest.

Kagari: "Princess, what's wrong? You seem restless tonight."

Kagari: "Are you worried about something? Who do I need to get rid of?"

Emma: "Please stop saying such things! There's nothing for you to worry about, so don’t worry."

Emma: "I was just a bit anxious about whether or not the drink I brought would suit your tastes."

Kagari: "That’s unusual. You don’t normally bring alcohol."

Emma: "I happened to win it at a raffle event they were holding in town."

Kagari: "A raffle, huh?"

I poured the drink into a glass and handed it to Prince Kagari, who downed it all at once.

(He’s not exactly a heavy drinker, but he always drinks so boldly.)

Prince Kagari placed the empty glass on the tray, narrowed his eyes with satisfaction, and licked his lips.

Kagari: "It’s good. The alcohol isn’t too strong, so it’s easy to drink."

Emma: "Really? Then I’ll go ahead and—"

Suddenly, my arm was pulled, and before I could react, my lips were sealed by his.

The bitter taste of the alcohol mixed with the heat of Kagari's kiss, causing my heartbeat to quicken.

Kagari: "Tastes good, doesn’t it?"

Emma: "U-uh… I think… I was more focused on the kiss than the alcohol."

Kagari: "Then how about we try again?"

Emma: "No matter how many times you try, it’s not going to work!"

(Prince Kagari just wants to kiss... Honestly, I want to kiss him too, but—)

(For now, I have to hold back… There’s something I need to accomplish first.)

Emma: "I feel like drinking a lot tonight, so please join me."

Kagari: "So I get to see a drunk princess tonight, huh? That should be fun."

(I don’t plan on getting completely wasted, but I do want to get a little tipsy.)

(There’s no way I can seduce him while sober...!)

....

This all started a few hours ago when I got some intel from Prince Kagari’s close aide, Shigure.

Emma: "…Kagari was seen in the entertainment district?"

Shigure: "I didn’t see him myself, but my subordinates were all worked up, saying they saw Kagari entering one of the establishments several times."

Shigure: "But I’m pretty sure it’s all work-related, so when those idiots start asking me stupid questions, I just ignore them."

Emma: "Hehe, I understand. Thank you for letting me know."

Shigure: "Huh, you’re not fazed at all."

Shigure: "Well, you know better than anyone just how much Kagari is into you, so it makes sense."

Shigure: "I might be worrying for nothing, but really, don’t let it get to you. See ya!"

Emma: "..."

(Kagari’s been spotted multiple times in the entertainment district... The entertainment… district...)

...Was I being too passive in situations like this? It's true that I rely on Kagari a lot.

(No, no, there’s no way Kagari would be playing around in the entertainment district.)

(I can say that with certainty, but… I HAVE been worried about how passive I’ve been…)

(… Right, this is just a way to ensure that he continues to love me in the future.)

(I'll show him a more assertive side of me and make him fall even more in love with me...!)

.....

—At least, that's what I had resolved to do. I thought I’d let alcohol loosen my restraint a little, but I wasn’t getting drunk at all.

Kagari: “Princess, did you finish your drink already? Want another?”

Emma: “Yes, please.”

I had Kagari pour me another drink, and, just like him, I downed it all in one go.

While I could feel the pleasant warmth of the alcohol spreading inside me, my mind was still crystal clear.

(This is bad… I’m too tense and nervous… No matter how many drinks I have, I doubt I’ll get drunk.)

Kagari: “Princess, look over here.”

Emma: “Hm…”

I obediently turned my face toward him, and he licked his lips like a cat before giving me a soft, fleeting kiss.

His fingers intertwined with mine, and even though the atmosphere was sweet, my chest felt tight…

(But if things continue like this, nothing will change.)

There’s no time to hesitate over whether I can seduce him while sober.

(I've drunk enough now that whatever I do will probably be seen as ‘drunken behavior.’)

(If that’s the case…)

Emma: "K-Kagari... I wanna kiss you more. Is that... okay?"

I desperately suppressed my embarrassment and tried to sound a bit tipsy as I clung to Kagari and buried my face in his neck.

Kagari: "...Go ahead. Kiss me as much as you want."

He lifted my chin to encourage me, and I immediately pressed my lips to his, trying not to let him notice that I was faking it.

Recalling our previous kisses, I tentatively slid my tongue into his mouth, tangling and sucking, trying to please him.

(Why... isn't he responding at all.)

Emma: “D-Does it not feel good?”

Kagari: “Who knows?”

(Is he not in the mood tonight? Or is my kissing just terrible…?)

Anxiety and frustration swelled inside me, and in my mind, I began to imagine Kagari standing next to a beautiful woman…

Before I realized it, I had pushed him down.

But he wasn’t fazed at all—he just lay there, looking up at me.

Kagari: "That was pretty good effort from you, Princess."

Kagari: "...But you're not drunk at all, are you?"

Emma: "H-How did you figure that out?"

Kagari: "You’re blinking less than usual, and your eyes are too focused."

Kagari: "Did someone put strange ideas in your head?"

Emma: "No... Nothing strange..."

Kagari: "So, you're worried about something?"

Kagari: “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but continuing this won’t feel good for either of us.”

(That’s… true. It would just leave me feeling empty.)

Kagari: “Princess, what’s wrong?”

He gently stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, and my resolve started to waver.

Emma: "...You won’t laugh or get upset?"

Kagari: “No. It’ll just make me want to spoil the sad princess even more.”

So I confessed to him about the information I got from Shigure and my plan to seduce him.

And as a result——

Emma: “Why am I the one being pinned down…!?”

Kagari: “I told you, I’m spoiling you.”

He nipped at my neck and chest like a beast, sending small waves of pleasure through me repeatedly.

(Tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll be shocked by how many marks there are when I look in the mirror.)

Emma: "Nngh... This isn’t any different from usual."

Kagari: "So what?"

Kagari: “I never once though that you were too passive, Princess”

Kagari: “If anything, I love how I can pamper and spoil you every day—it’s like paradise.”

Kagari: "Now your worries are gone, right?"

(They are... but this doesn’t really explain why I’m in this situation right now...!)

With a dreamy expression, Kagari removed his gloves using his mouth, and without a word, began to dishevel my clothes.

He kneaded my exposed chest, rolling the tips with his tongue before gently biting them.

The constant stimulation made my thoughts start to melt away.

Kagari: “Princess, you look like you're enjoying yourself. You’re already so wet here, it looks like I could slip right in.”

Emma: "That’s because you’re touching me so much... Ah, no, I... nngh...!"

(He’s doing this while I’m in the middle of talking...!)

He spread my legs wide and relentlessly teased my wet area with both his tongue and fingers. Even though his touch was gentle, it was merciless, and all I could do was moan in response.

I tried to unconsciously pull away, but he grabbed my hips and pulled me back.

The lewd, wet sounds filled my ears, and the overwhelming pleasure made me grab Kagari’s hand, my body trembling violently.

(My head... feels fuzzy...)

Kagari: “How cute, Princess. Look, you’ve forgotten to breathe again.”

He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with his thumb and then sat me on his lap. As his broad chest rose and fell, I slowly tried to match my breathing with his.

Kagari: “The reason I was in the pleasure district was because there’s been a series of thefts recently, and I was patrolling to help a friend who was in trouble.”

(So that’s what it was... And yet, here I was, overthinking things, getting anxious, and acting weird...)

(I want to crawl into a hole and disappear.)

Kagari: “Sorry. I should’ve told you first.”

Kagari: "But I'm happy to know that you love me enough to go through with this whole seduction plan."

Emma: "...Thank you. I feel... relieved."

Kagari casually took my hand and guided it to his chest.

Kagari: "The only person I want touching me like this is you, Princess."

Kagari: "You're the only one I want to make feel good, and the only one I want to make me feel good."

He guided my hand to his neck and cheek, letting it linger there before kissing my palm.

Kagari: “My body, my life--everything. It’s all yours, so you don’t need to worry.”

His deep green eyes were filled with a thick, honey-like sweetness, conveying far more emotion than his words alone.

Any remaining anxiety vanished, leaving me feeling completely at peace.

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: “I’ve never once thought you were too passive, Princess”

Kagari: "If anything, I love how I can pamper and spoil you every day—it’s like paradise."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(He says that, but honestly, I’m the one who’s being spoiled here.)

(I want to spoil him even more, and I want to show my feelings for him just as much as he shows his for me.)

Just as I made up my mind—

Emma: "Eek!? W-wait, Kagari...!"

I felt the heat of his arousal press against me through our clothes, causing a undeniable heat build deep within me.

Kagari: “I’ve hit my limit. Don’t you think I’ve been holding back long enough, Princess?”

(Ah...)

Before I knew it, his eyes gleamed like a beast, and his thin grasp on his rationality was clearly slipping.

Emma: “Um... I’d appreciate it if you could be a little... gentle with me.”

Kagari: “Can’t. I don’t know how to hold back.”

(That’s exactly what I thought he’d say. But if he’s this relentless every time, my body won’t be able to handle it...)

(Wait a minute...)

(Maybe the reason I’ve been so passive is because Kagari is always so relentless in his demands...?)

Kagari: “Is that a problem, Princess?”

Like a playful cat, he buried his face in my chest and looked up at me.

Though his gaze was pleading, he subtly pinned both my wrists behind me, making it clear he wasn’t planning on letting me go.

(Kagari is, in a way, a hundred times better at seduction than I am.)

In the end, I was overwhelmed by his insatiable love that night, to the point where my voice and tears were completely spent.

▼・ᴥ・▼

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri translations #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri kagari #kagari amagase #ikepri spoilers

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 2 months ago

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totally forgot what you think of shippy stuff but im gonna ask you anyway !!! do u think sabo n law would be friends ??! more than that ?! cause they have like . . . one arc together plus stampede and they dont seem to hate each other so !! im curious of your thoughts 🎤

Their dynamic for me is kinda just like “this guy is my little brother’s friend” kind of feel and thats really it for me. Like ifykyk what that dynamic is but for me they just,,,, theyre too similar to eachother to be much more than that in my opinion. I feel like Sabo naturally drifts to people who are very different than him, if that makes sense.

I think all the ship art I’ve seen of them is really funny though. Like they have a lot of comedic potential, I love people putting Law in Situations and that man is just doomed to be the StraightMan for the rest of his unintentionally sexy life.

And also like, to get into law’s world you really have to push and shove and claw your way in there, and Sabo is way too busy trying to get tf outta wherever he is to do that for law.

Now that im thinking about it though, i wish we knew how sabo and ace met. Cuz like luffy really had to push and shove and claw his way into Ace’s life, so i wonder if sabo had to do the same. Thats really besides the point though because i wouldnt really compare Sabo being completely alone and friendless when he was 5 and trying to find even a single friend in Ace, to Sabo in his adult years who grew up without a single memory of being alone and being constantly surrounded by people who love him.

Sabo isnt like Luffy is with making friends. Luffy has had multiple points in his life where hes had to really force people into friendship to have someone, anyone, in his life. This naturally is because he hates being alone, mostly stemming from just truly no one being there for him to connect with. He’s been woefully devoid of peers in his life. So for Luffy, having to brute force his way into people’s lives is just par for the course for him, which of course is how he became Law’s friend (self proclaimed)

But Sabo, with how he was raised post amnesia, he was never lonely. So in my opinion he wouldnt really have that drive to force his way into people’s lives like his little brother does. He wouldnt have that insecurity that Luffy has/had to make him like that.

And Law….. he’s had everyone he’s ever loved ripped away from him time and time again. To say being Law’s friend is extremely fucking hard is an understatement to say the extreme least. Sabo is also not the kind of guy to do things for people. Like for example Bartolomeo drowning in the colosseum as sabo destroyed the arena and just telling him “youre a man, do it yourself.” And then two seconds later to his woman friend he’s like “since when can you not take care of things yourself?” Like he’s very You Gotta Meet Him Halfway If Youre Gonna Meet Him At All. (‘Woman friend’ being koala, of course, but i just wanna emphasize those two points because truly it doesnt matter what your gender is or even if youre a close friend, that ‘do it yourself’ is rated E for Everybody)

Law needs to be broken in with a semi truck to be his friend, not even mentioning trying to be his lover and i really dont think sabo would put in the effort to do either of those things. I honestly think law shouldn’t be in any romantic relationship for a very long time because of how unbelievably traumatized and broken and ruined he is especially with certain recent events. So i really have a hard time shipping him with anyone even though theres lots of characters ripe for the picking.

TDLR: in my eyes, neither of them would put in the effort of trying to be anything with eachother and are kinda just on good terms because of a mutual friend.

By Every Means Necessary though, please keep shipping them and drawing ship art of them, i feel like the stuff i see with them is so creative and i encourage you to keep drawing those tragic men making out.

If you have any other thoughts or any ship/friendship propaganda for me though lmk please. This is kinda one of those ships where i really dont much understand it beyond The Bit. I’m just not the kind of person to really like ships without seeing a direct and canon dynamic between them I can pull from. Like even if its a negative dynamic i can still get into it but like these two truly have Nothing. So by all means, help me understand.

Thank you for coming my ted talk and thank you for the question, i really had to think hard about this and it was a lot of fun coming to the conclusion i came to.

#whery qna #@engaardeque

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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months ago

Text

sharpest tool

we were going right, then you took a left

featuring -> trevor zegras x female reader

genre -> angst

word count -> 1.1k

note -> i truly struggled writing this one, and I’m not entirely happy with how it turned out so i apologize if it is not my best. But i hope you enjoy? I am trying to get my writing back on track since I’ve been MIA 🤞🏼

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

Things had started in such an atypical way, yet somehow Trevor was still hanging around. You thought for sure that a chance encounter which led to a hook up would’ve ended there, but you were pleasantly surprised.

When Trevor invited you to a teammate's birthday party, you weren’t sure if you should accept at first. Nervous for what they might say or ask, you and Trevor not having put a label on things. Though he always said that with you, things felt different.

That birthday party turned into multiple parties, weekly date nights, spending the night at his place or him at yours. And while you still hadn’t put a label on things, you were confident in saying that Trevor was yours and you were his.

With Trevor being a professional athlete he’d often found himself navigating the pool of those who were interested in him for his status, and only ever finding a handful of girls who liked him for who he was away from hockey. But he’d thought he’d finally found his person in you.

You were everything Trevor could ever ask for. Supportive, selfless, so caring; it was easy for him to see that you weren’t just hanging around for his money or fame. He’d not experienced someone like you that could put him in his place while also putting up with his shit. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. A random night out led to you coming back to his place, and he couldn’t let you go from that night on.

As he’d begun navigating the new found feelings, he was now in a position of questioning from his friends and teammates. Were you his girlfriend? What was his status? And it made him unsure as this wasn’t a situation he’d yet been in during his young career. While he enjoyed what things were, he was afraid of labels. Thinking that by taking the step, it would change everything. But he never shared these fears, simply ignoring them.

However, ignoring those fears only made him begin to distance himself. No longer inviting you to parties, weekly date nights were kept to nights in. And while you assumed it was due to his schedule, you never thought to ask. Not wanting to ruffle any feathers or cause an argument over whether or not you were his girlfriend, despite it seeming obvious to you that you were.

Though now that Trevor was acting differently, you weren’t entirely sure.

And soon enough, the date nights ceased. And it had been over a week since you’d even gotten a simple text from Trevor. No explanation, nothing. And you wished you would’ve spoken up, raised the question when you had the chance to possibly prevent being left to pick up the pieces of the jumbled puzzle that you two were.

The idea of reaching out crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to seem attached or come across any type of way. Especially if he’d never seen your relationship as anything more than casual. But to sit around and question what the explanation was, also wasn’t fair to you.

You opted for texting his teammate, hoping that maybe he’d at least spoken to them about his decision making. Thankful that he’d introduced you to them multiple times that you knew any of them well enough to send such a random text.

But the response was nothing more than confusing. They’d said they had no clue what was going on either. Simply that Trevor had stopped mentioning you, as well as stopped inviting you to things. All of his teammates assumed you’d broken up or he was keeping things more private. Despite them all encouraging him not to lose you as they’d all thought you were perfect for him. However, the conversation only left you with more questions than answers, questioning why Trevor had taken such a harsh turn when things seemed to be going so right.

Figuring it was a stress for another day, you opted to scroll Instagram, let your brain wander and think about anything else for a bit. Watching reels of cooking, dogs doing funny things, liking the occasional post of a friend that caught your eye on your feed. Then opting to aimlessly click through stories, until you’d landed on one that you swore made your whole body seize up in shock. The range of emotions you’d felt in the ten seconds the photo was on your screen seemed almost impossible for one person to feel so quickly, yet you’d done it.

The image of Trevor, though his face not shown, you could spot his hair and tattoos anywhere. Arms wrapped around a girl you’d recognized as an ex of his, as they were waist deep in a pool at what you guessed was her house because it didn’t look familiar. You felt tears welling in your eyes but you fought it, not wanting to waste any on him after he’d strung you along rather than being man enough to end things if he wasn’t interested.

Though you knew it was best to leave it be, not respond or try to get the last word, you couldn’t help yourself. Feeling it was only right you got to say something since he’d shut you out for the last several weeks with no explanation.

Typing out a quick response to the post, you hit send. Immediately exiting the app and heading to take a shower.

Trevor finished off his beer before exiting the pool to search for his phone, finding it on a chair as he checked his notifications. Smiling at a group chat with the boys before heading over to his Instagram. The arms of his ex snaked around his waist as she kissed his back, urging him to get off his phone and head inside with her. Trevor’s focus on the message you’d sent him.

Guess I’m an idiot for thinking we were anything more than casual.

Trevor’s smile had faded as he saw the message, his heart immediately aching as he felt awful for that photo. He felt awful that he’d simply chosen to never talk to you about how he was feeling, simply distancing himself and ignoring it all. As if that was a solution. Now he’d been seen at his ex's house, clearly cozied up with her and he knew that broke your heart to see. It was dumb, and to say he didn’t regret it now instantly would be a lie.

His guilt was creeping in as he questioned whether or not he should respond. Should he call you? You’d probably blocked him by now. He was mentally cursing himself for not being man enough to talk about his feelings, letting the best thing to have ever come into his life go because of his stupidity and fears.

Grabbing his things he knew he had to fix this, or at least try. Hurrying to his car as he checked the time, knowing it was late but hoping somehow you’d be awake. Shooting a quick text, a simple hey, impatiently waiting as he started his car. His heart racing as he watched the word delivered soon change to read.

#trevor zegras angst #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #t. zegras #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb

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drdemonprince · 9 days ago

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I’ve only just read your Burnout piece on Substack and it made me think of the anon you answered awhile back about anti depressants and anti anxiety medications.

I’m Autistic and am on anti anxiety medication which basically masked all the warning signs and symptoms of Autistic burnout. Those usual indicators I usually can pick up on which indicate I’m doing too much and not resting enough weren’t present on the medication.

I felt good (although very numb like the anon said) so I kept on taking on more and more and initially thought it was great! I’ve never been able to commit to things or work on multiple projects at once even ones that super interest and excite me because I get overwhelmed and burnt out quickly.

But without the warning signs I kept going and going until I started to feel really weird. Disassociated, not sleeping, upset stomach, drinking a lot. I thought everything was great so it took awhile to piece together that this is maybe what Autistic burnout results in when it’s covered by meds.

I’m now slowly withdrawing from the meds. I figure the authentic anxiety is better than false measures of “success”.

So just a warning to Autistic people I guess, I don’t know if what I’ve experienced is common or just subjective but it’s worth being aware of.

This is pretty much how I feel about psychiatric medication for myself, as well. I want the warning signs. I want to notice my body and brain rebelling. A lot of psychiatric drugs are somewhat effective at making us feel more numb, for a while, which is why they are used as a stopgap when a person's situation is unmanageable. I'm a big believer in the "Affect as Information" Hypothesis: when we feel like shit, that means something about our circumstances simply has got to change. Often that means giving up responsibilities, letting people down, letting things go.

I even feel the same way about weed. I have a lot of friends who use weed daily to manage their overwhelm, and it seems to work great for them, and potentially I should be doing the same thing. But I am terrified of having a massive dependence on a large quantity of weed in order to function, and when I *did* use weed daily, it became a baseline need and made me dissociate even further from myself. I now take the desire to use weed or otherwise get blasted as a signal that something is amiss and that I'm overwhelmed and seeking escape -- that doesn't mean I don't listen to that desire some of the time. I get high and/or drunk on the weekends pretty often. But I don't want to lose touch with my body's warning system. AND I have the immense luxury of being able to change my life circumstances when things get to be too much. If someone doesn't have that freedom, well, sometimes substances are the best thing you can get - be that psychiatric or off market.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

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Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #disney twst #Kifaji #Cheka Kingscholar #Farena Kingscholar #Falena Kingscholar #Silver #Rook Hunt #Epel Felmier #Jack Howl #Savanaclaw #Ruggie Bucchi #Neji

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alphajocklover · 3 months ago

Note

You have to help me! I've been trying to get free of this... place for a long LONG time. After some time I've been able to gain back some free will, but it's really hard. Right now, as my "physicall" me picked his phone at the gym between reps, I've been able to log on here and I saw what you published about the Retsam Mirror. You have to help me. I've been stuck in it for years. I was a nerd when i first fell by accident on the mirror and i got sucked in. I can't do this anymore. The new me is a honry bastard and he spends his time getting fucked in front of mirrors, a lot and a lot of them. My reflections are exponentials and i feel every single one of them. Oh fuck he just got a notification from HungDomTop11in. Help m................

A Retsam mirror. You found a Retsam mirror. Another Retsam mirror. For those of you who didn’t see my earlier post, a Retsam mirror is an incredibly rare magical artifact that lets a person switch places with their reflection, which essentially traps the person in their reflection and leaves a very suggestable copy in their place. It was weird enough to hear that one guy had encountered one of those that hadn’t already been shattered, but if what you’re telling me is true… then whoever trapped that poor guy has been trapping people in mirrors for much longer than we thought. I can only guess, and hope, that you were one of his earliest victims. I know you said you fell in but… if that was true then your other self wouldn’t have acted any differently than you. Someone had to have pushed you in, and then used your reflections malleable state to change them. I have to say, as horrified as I am by all of this… I’m also kind of impressed. Not with the jerk who's been trapping people, but with you. It takes a lot of willpower to keep your mind intact while in a reflection. Most people lose themselves in it, not having the ability to choose their movements but still feeling everything. Yet what’s even more impressive is the fact you were actually able to take back control for a bit. From what I’ve heard, that's supposed to be impossible. For you to do that… It's truly incredible. I’m just sorry that it might not be able to help save you. As far as I know, there isn’t a way to get out of a Retsam mirror, at least not on your own. Either your reflection would have to willingly swap back, which seems unlikely, or the guy who pushed you in would have to switch you again, which seems even less likely. I’ve been looking into ways to help get people out of Retsam mirrors since I first heard they were back, but I haven’t found much yet. So I’m afraid that, for the time being, you’re stuck there.

Don’t give up hope though! You’ve managed to do more than anyone else in your position has. Not to mention, the information you’ve given me may be invaluable to figuring out how to save and protect people from Retsam mirrors. I’ve been messing with a spell that might allow me to use my own Retsam mirror to help people stuck in reflections, or at least communicate with them, so there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I know this entire situation is horrible, but the reporter in me has to admit it’s kind of fascinating. It’s incredibly rare you get to talk to someone who's been inside a reflection, so I had no idea you could feel what was happening inside each and every reflection, even if you were reflected in multiple mirrors at once. That must be very overwhelming, especially if your other self is hooking up in front of mirrors. Feeling yourself get fucked by a a potentionally infinite amount of cocks all at once… As hot as that sounds it must be really intense.

Here's just hoping your other self doesn’t take advantage of it too much.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #retsam mirror

129 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 2 years ago

Text

Dickless

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: basically pwp but like, enemies to lovers if you REALLY squint

Summary: Your boyfriend won't go down on you and it is a Problem. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood fuckboy (or is he??) Taehyung is there to lend a mouth hand.

Word count: 11.1k

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, infidelity, some very poor communicating

A/N: it's another repost!!! because this just hit 2k notes on the old blog 🥺🥺🥺 I have a secret soft spot for this fic, ngl. I'm secretly (not so secretly) proud of the smut; I tried to do something a bit different with my writing and I like how it came out, at least those parts. I have not edited this at all due to the aforemetioned bottle of wine so, here it is as it always was

ETA: the sexual politics of this one are 🥴😬 because reader essentially won't accept the truth that sexual incompatibility is both real and a valid reason to not continue a relationship. No one should be pressured into doing something they don't want and that extends to her bf! It's not his fault! She should have dumped him months ago! And she didn't! And she's in the wrong for that!! To be clear: she is in the wrong!!!!

That said, she's not a total cunt; she is struggling with it and doesn't want to break-up with him because she does (did) love him and she feels like she should just be able to give up this thing because it's only her, it's only what she wants, it doesn't really matter-- except it does matter; what she wants does matter and she had to come to terms with that and the fact that that means she and her bf can't be together.

* * *

You remembered the first time you saw Taehyung. You were at a bar your friend had dragged you to because she knew he would be there; they had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks and she wanted to ‘casually’ run into him as he had stopped replying to her texts.

“There he is,” Tara had hissed, pointing to a tall man across the room, dark curls bouncing on his brow, long fingers curled around a wine glass, and an intense look on his face.

Moving further into the room, it had then been revealed that the target of his gaze was another woman and, despite your friend’s best attempts, Taehyung was not interested. She had dragged you to the toilets where she cried, real, huge tears.

“It’s just been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Did you say you were exclusive?” you had asked, trying to be sensitive but shocked at the display of emotion. She wasn’t usually like this.

“I’m not crying because I’m in love with him or something!” she had replied, her voice thick with tears. “I’m crying because he’s never going to sleep with me again!”

“What?”

“If he’s done with me, then that’s it. I’m done for. I’m done with sex.”

She had fixed you with a wet, shining stare.

“No one is as good in bed as Taehyung.” Her voice was hushed, awed. “He... You just don’t know if you haven’t slept with him, ok? He has ruined me. I can never sleep with anyone else, not knowing that he’s out there somewhere, not sleeping with me. No on-”

“No one is that good at sex. Come on; it’s not like he’s got a magic dick or so-”

“Yes, he has! He absolutely has. But it’s not just his dick – it's his everything. I’m telling you, y/n-” she had sniffled for dramatic effect, her tears were mostly dried- “he’s the best I’ve ever had or will ever have and, honestly, if he ever shows any interest in you, take it.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t care.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock; she knew your boyfriend; you had thought they got along well; but she interrupted you before you could argue.

“I’m serious, y/n. This is a hall pass situation. Do not turn Taehyung down.”

“So I can end up like you, crying over his dick in a toilet?”

She had fixed you with a death glare but could not exactly say you were wrong.

* * *

That was months ago now. And, somehow, Taehyung kept popping up in your life. At the pub, at bars, at a party where you weren’t even sure he knew anyone – he just happened to be there. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him because you didn’t even know him, but you certainly had no interest in getting to know him. Men like him were ten a penny and, despite what you had been told about him, you were not convinced he was all that in the sack, because men like him never are.

He was certainly handsome; you wouldn’t deny that. But attractive? No one that smug, that arrogant, could ever be attractive to you. Someone who thinks the world is at their feet, that everyone should fall to their knees for them, that other people exist only for their delectation... That was disgusting, not sexy. Even if you hadn’t had a boyfriend, you knew there was no way his ‘charm’ could work on you. All bluster and machismo and that quirked eyebrow and little smirk? No, thank you.

“You know, I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”

The voice came from behind you and you knew, without having to look, who it would be. You replied not even bothering to turn around.

“No need. I know who you are.”

“Oh? And who am I?”

He was next to you then, leaning against the wall, your arms touching.

“You’re Taehyung with the magical dick.”

“Oh, is that what they call me?”

“Well, I don’t-”

“You just did.”

“I don’t but rumour has it... Of course, I don’t believe a word.”

“There are rumours going around that I have a magical dick and you don’t believe them... You know there’s one way to know for sure?”

You turned to him, then, stared into his eyes – wide, innocent, as if he wasn’t just asking you to fuck him without even knowing your name – and scoffed.

“No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.”

“And does he have a magical dick?”

You didn’t hesitate, not really, not for more than half a second, but it was enough.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a real shame. You want my number so you can pass it on to him? Maybe I could give him some tips?”

“Ugh, goodbye, Taehyung.”

You pushed yourself off the wall and made your way through the room, but he followed after you.

“Or,” he continued. “You could just take my number and not pass it on, maybe keep it for yourself. In case of an emergency or-”

“Emergency? What emergency might I possibly ever have that I would require your assistance?”

He leant down, so close that you could smell his shampoo and his drink on his breath. His cheek barely brushed yours as he brought his lips to your ear.

“Maybe your boyfriend with the disappointing dick can’t get you off and you’re so on edge that you think, god I’d do anything, anything, to come right now, but you can’t. Then you’re lying there, hot and bothered and unsatisfied, yearning for something, someone, to come and sort you out, to show you the kind of pleasure you’ve not even ever dreamt of. And you think of me, and my magical dick, and you think, oh how I wish I’d taken his number; if I had his number, I’d call him right no-”

You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back.

“I’m not taking your number and I’m not going to call you. This-” you gestured broadly to him “this doesn’t work on me. You’re a fuckboy and I don’t fuck with fuckboys. Goodbye.”

As you walked away from him for the second time, he didn’t follow and you had to stop yourself turning around to see if he was still looking at you. It didn’t matter if he was or not, but you liked the idea of denying the undeniable man, of being one person he couldn’t charm, couldn’t win over. You didn’t care if his dick really was magic or not because you knew you would never be finding out.

* * *

The next time you saw him was a few weeks later, at a party. He was on the sofa, slouching low, an empty glass held slack in his hand, dangling at the end of his wrist. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not making moves or scanning for prey; just sitting, staring into space. You turned away from him; you didn’t want to think about a sex god right now; you didn’t want to think about sex full-stop. You ideally wanted to not think at all. You left the room.

Later that night, when you went back inside, you saw him again. He was still sitting on the sofa, empty glass (the same one?) in hand, still staring into space. You briefly wondered if he was on drugs and, if he were, whether that was deliberate or he’d had his drink spiked. Most people seemed to be ignoring him, or they hadn’t noticed him at all. You sat down next to him.

“No conquest tonight?”

“Nope.”

“What? Not even one? You can’t be telling me your magical dick would miss an opportunity like this: all these people, drinks flowing, inhibitio-”

“I said no.”

He tipped his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

“Are you ok?”

“Yep.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yep.”

You had to stifle a giggle and take a pause before you continued.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had your heartbroken. Mr Magical Dick, Mr Fuck Anything That Moves, Mr Don’t Keep Anyone Around For More Than Two Weeks has had his little heart broken?”

You could see his jaw work as he tongued at the inside of his cheek, as if deliberating whether or not he would confide in you.

“In a manner of speaking.”

The way you gasped was uncharitable, and on a different night, you might have been less callous, but misery loves company and you were delighted to find out that someone else – Kim Taehyung at that – was having relationship problems. You were just fixing on your best retort, tidying it up on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again.

“Before you say whatever clever remark you’re currently labouring over, my fucking grandmother died, ok? So save it.”

“Oh.” Surprised didn’t even come close. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He stood and walked away but you followed him, up the stairs and into an empty bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. You followed him in and shut the door behind you, but stayed next to it, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ventured.

“No.”

“Do you want to drink about it?”

He lifted the empty glass in his hand as if he were about to take a sip and then held it out to you.

“Sure.”

“Ok, uh, stay here then and I’ll be back.”

When you returned to the bedroom (bottle of unfortunately cheap vodka in hand), you thought he must have left: the bed was empty. Then you saw his feet poking out from the other side and found him lying on the floor. You took his glass, poured him a drink, and watched him as he knocked it back. He grimaced and looked at you.

“This is horrible.”

“Yeah, I know, but I figured it wouldn’t be missed. Sorry.”

He held his glass up for more.

You sat, drinking in silence. You didn’t know what to say to him and he was obviously not interested in conversation so part of you wanted to leave him alone, but he hadn’t told you to leave, and he was still holding his glass out for more, and you didn’t really feel like he should’ve been alone. So, you stayed. It was nice, actually. You hadn’t really been in the mood for a party – you had just wanted to get out – so you were enjoying the quiet. You were enjoying the way the vodka was making you warm, edges all fuzzy and soft, the noise far away.

“She basically raised me.”

His voice was quiet and thick; you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just talking.

“Yeah?”

“She-”

He looked at you then, his eyes not quite focusing, and stopped talking.

“You can tell me about her, if you want.”

He shook his head with a groan and drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head between them.

“I’m going to go home,” he said after another short while had passed.

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“Can you get home ok? Did you need me to get you a taxi or call someone?”

He shook his head and fished his phone out of his pocket, waving it at you, unlocking it to order a car. You almost didn’t reach out for it, but you knew you would feel responsible if something happened, so you took his phone and entered your number into it.

“Please let me know when you have got home safe, ok?”

He looks at you, suspicious, and then playful as that all-too-familiar smirk returns to his lips.

“It was all a ruse, huh? Get me drunk and give me your number under the pretence of concern for me, huh? I knew you wanted me.”

“What I want, Taehyung, is to not be the last person to see you alive and the subsequent subject of a murder investigation.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re the one who calls me magic dick...”

He winked at you and then turned, waving a hand in your direction, stumbling down the stairs. You figured you might as well call it a night yourself.

You were back in your apartment, washed and undressed, tapping impatiently at the side of your phone, not sure if you should wait to hear from Taehyung or assume that he’d forgotten and just go to sleep yourself. Then a message came in from an unknown number.

A head shot, but with enough of his shoulders displayed to make it clear he was topless, his black hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. He had his eyes closed, his fingers in a V over his mouth.

???: Didn’t die.

???: Unlike my grandma 🙁

You choked on surprised laughter.

y/n: Glad you got home ok. Sorry about your gma 🙁

* * *

Your phone rang the next evening while you were making tea and you answered without looking who was calling.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck is this I hear about you and Kim Taehyung?”

It was your boyfriend.

“Uh, I don’t know; what did you hear?”

“Apparently, you’re fucking.”

“WHAT?!”

“Apparently, when you were out last night, you and Taehyung went into a bedroom for a very long time and he came out looking very pleased with himself.”

“Ok and? That means we’re fucking, does it?”

“I don’t know; I’m asking you.”

“Ok, well, no, we didn’t. We didn’t really do anything. We just sat and drank.”

“What do you mean you just sat and drank? What even is that?”

“I mean we literally sat and drank. I wasn’t in a good mood and neither was he, so I nicked a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and we sat in the dark, in silence, drinking it. That’s it.”

There was an aggrieved sigh from the other end of the phone.

“So, it’s my fault, is it? Is that what this is about? You trying to make me jealous or some sh-”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m supposed to believe it’s just a coincidence that, almost immediately after we have an argument about me not going down on you, you end up at a party with the most notorious fuckboy in the fucking country?”

You could feel anger swelling within you, sweat pricking on your back and in your palms.

“Believe what you want. I’m telling you nothing happened.”

You hung up. You were not about to be accused of cheating by a guy who, frankly, already owed you an apology. As if you would’ve done that. Even if you had been single, you wouldn’t have slept with Taehyung – not ever, but certainly not last night. You had a little more decency than that. Hell, even Taehyung had more decency than that. You tried to push it from your mind; if you had been your boyfriend, maybe you would’ve thought it, too, or at least, felt insecure about it or unsure. You could admit that it didn’t necessarily look great – you were very aware of Taehyung’s reputation and maybe you should have considered that before shutting yourself in a room with him. But you also knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. So you were prepared to let it blow over.

* * *

Taehyung: You coming tonight?

y/n: Coming where?

Taehyung: Jimin’s party?

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ not invited

Taehyung: Ok, I’m inviting you.

Taehyung: So you coming?

y/n: Can’t. Have a date

Taehyung: You dumped disappointing dick??!!! 😄😄😄

y/n: No.

y/n: He’s still my boyfriend. My date is with him.

Taehyung: Boo 😒 let me know when you finally leave him

y/n: Fuck off, taehyung

* * *

You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, until you found yourself actually searching for him, peeking into dark corners in clubs and bars to see if he was there. You weren’t sure why you did; you weren’t friends and you certainly weren’t interested in him. But you were intrigued. You always assumed people like him were shallow – truly of the no thoughts, head empty kind. You hadn’t really considered that he might be a real person under there somewhere. Albeit a smug, arrogant, charmless, shameless person. Who may or may not have had a magic dick.

You thought about what your friend had said, the first time you met Taehyung. How she had cried, not because she liked him, not because he broke her heart, but because she would never get to sleep with him again. You couldn’t imagine it, sex that good. Not that the sex you had was bad (it wasn’t), it was good, even, but you couldn’t imagine it being so good, so much better than now that it would inspire such a reaction.

You began to think about it more and more as things with your boyfriend went from bad to worse.

The club was hot and loud and you were happy to be drunk and dancing. Happy, that is, until you weren’t. Your phone buzzed once, twice, three times, four times. You knew it was your boyfriend and you knew it was because you were out without him. Which was kind of the whole point; you didn’t want to speak to him.

You wandered outside to the smoking area, for some air, to scan your eyes over your boyfriend’s messages and see if there was anything worth replying to. And there was Taehyung. He hadn’t seen you yet and you knew you had only a few seconds before he turned around and noticed you. You realised, with what might have been clarity or might have been too much gin, that of all the people in all the world that you might speak to about your problems, Taehyung was probably the best: experienced, not your friend, you didn’t care about his opinion of you, and he didn’t think much of your boyfriend.

“Hey, Taehyung,” you called as you approached.

He turned and his smug, little smirk turned into a genuine smile when he saw you.

“Y/n! It’s been a while. Still being disappointed in the bedroom?”

You almost changed your mind.

“Shut up, Taehyung. I have to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“You have a lot of sex, right? Like, a lot of sex with a lot of different wome-... people? Right?”

He shrugged.

“Some, sure. Maybe a lot. Depends who’s asking.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. When you have sex with someone with a... with uh, a vulva, do you go down on them?”

He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown another head and, when he answered, he spoke slowly, as if you were an idiot.

“Yes, if they have a pussy, I go down on them.”

“Always? Like, every time?”

“Well, I guess probably not 100% of the time, but... I don’t know, 95?”

This was not the answer you had been hoping for.

“Why are you a-” He cut himself off with a gasp and looked at you, shock and glee in equal measure on his face. “Does Disappointing Dick not go down on you?”

You blushed furiously, your face hot, and stomped your foot, shushing him viciously.

“No,” you admitted, through gritted teeth. “No, he doesn’t. Not ever.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

“Like, not even a little?”

“I said not ever! What do you not understand about those words?”

“Why?”

“You mean why doesn’t he?” You shrugged, trying to appear more unbothered than you were. “He says he doesn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t like it? Is he gay?”

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a groan, intending to drop it, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back.

“I’m being serious. If he’s not going down on you, he can’t be that into pussy. Is it just you or was he the same with previous partners?”

“He says it’s everyone, not just me. He says he just doesn’t like it.”

“Has he tried? With you, I mean?”

You grimaced at the memory.

“Once.”

“And how was it?”

“Awful. I couldn’t relax because all I could think about was how much he didn’t want to do it and he was so awkward and tentative and then he got annoyed because I wasn’t enjoying-”

“He got annoyed?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung’s brows came over his eyes and his lips pouted forward. He looked at you, thinking carefully.

“Do you go down on him?”

“Well, yeah, but I like doing it so it’s not an issue.”

“But him not going down on you is an issue?”

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t make it a big deal and maybe it’s not and I’m just being selfis-”

He held up a hand to cut you off before you could even finish the word.

“You’ve done things you aren’t that keen on in bed, right?”

“Uh, wh- what do you mean? No one’s ever forced me to do-”

“No, I don’t mean that. I just mean... There are some positions you like more than others, yeah? Or maybe he likes to fuck in the shower but you prefer not to or he likes morning sex and you don’t really, but you sometimes do it anyway, even though it’s not your favourite thing?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So why do you do them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if they’re not really top of your list, why do you do them at all? Why not just say no and only do it how you want?”

“Because it’s not just about me. It’s about them, too, and I want them to have a good time. And, ok, maybe we do it that way this time, and next time, we’ll do it my way.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“My point is that, even if eating your pussy isn’t his favourite thing to do, he should still do it because it’s something that you like and that makes you feel good and he should care about that.”

“You care, do you? About all the people you have sex with?”

“Yes, I do.” His eyes were sharp, his lips almost sneering. He seemed annoyed but you couldn’t work out why. “Why are you asking me about this anyway? Want me to give you what you’re missing?”

You punched him in the arm, a little harder than you’d intended, and he scowled, giving the area a rub.

“No. Why would you ask me that? Of course, I fucking don’t. I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah. And maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He lifts an eyebrow at you, disbelief and impatience clear on his face.

“You know what I mean. And you know I’m always here for you.”

For one second, you really thought he was being nice and thoughtful; you thought he might be treating you like a friend. And then reality came back to you and you realised precisely what he meant. You punched him in the arm again.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. I’m not fucking you.”

“That’s not what I offered. Come on, sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Y/n, seriously.”

He cradled your cheek with his hand and looked closely at you. His brown eyes were so warm, inviting, so wide and open and sweet that you couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.

“What’s a little oral between friends? Let me show you your pretty little pussy’s worth wanting.”

“Ugh!”

You ripped your face away from his hand and stalked off, even as he called after you. The juxtaposition of that cute, teddy-bear face and his fucking depravity would give you whiplash. You told yourself that’s what it was; that he was confusing and you didn’t know how to take him, didn’t know if you could trust him. That’s why you could feel a cold stone of anxiety sinking in your stomach; you were discombobulated, that’s all. You were drunk. He had knocked you off kilter.

You were fine.

The next day, Taehyung messaged you.

Taehyung: I’m sorry for overstepping, ok?

You didn’t have time to read the rest before he was video-calling you.

“Hi.”

“You haven’t even given me three seconds to read your messages yet.”

“I know, but it said you read them so I knew you were looking at your phone and I wanted to speak to you.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart or creepy.”

You could tell he shrugged by the jolt of the camera.

“What do you want, then? You’ve already apologised.”

“I don’t want to apologise. Not really... Well, I do if I made you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I did but I’m not going to apologise for anything else. Not even this...

“No partner should ever make you feel weird or self-conscious or bad or insecure or anything like that. If you are putting your trust in someone, if you’re literally putting your body in their hands, they had better make damn fucking sure that they’re treating it right, that they’re taking care of you, that you feel good, that you feel better being with them than you do on your own. That’s all non-negotiable. It doesn’t sound like Dickless is doing that.”

“What happened to Disappointing Dick?”

“I demoted him. He doesn’t deserve a dick.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I’m fucking serious. You deserve better.”

You hung up on him. You didn’t want to hear it because you didn’t want to admit that it did make you feel bad; that you were self-conscious now; that something bad was definitely happening inside your brain and you didn’t, somehow, feel like you had the right to blame your boyfriend.

Taehyung, persistent as ever, sent a text.

Taehyung: I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m also not sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be feel like your body is perfect because it is. Your body is a site of worship and if he’s not praying to you, sacrificing to you, he’s blaspheming. You deserve to be fucked by someone who will recognise what you are, will recognise how lucky they are to be with you, will make sure they let you know just how desirable and sexy and fucking perfect you are. That's all.

Y/n: You mean someone like you?

Taehyung: 🙄🙄🙄

Taehyung: NO. I’m not trying to fuck you; you’ve made your feelings on that abundantly clear. This is not about me at all. How many times do I have to say I’m serious about this? Your boyfriend is a sack of shit.

You did not reply.

* * *

It was a Monday morning, hardly the highlight of anyone’s week, when you next ran into Taehyung. As you entered the café, you could see him, waiting for his coffee at the other end of the bar. You ignored him and placed your order, hoping he would be gone before you had finished.

No such luck. Worse still, he immediately started talking to you.

“I just have one question; will you let me ask one question?”

“What?”

“Are you prepared to go the rest of your life with no one going down on you?”

“What?”

You could feel your face heat and you glanced nervously around, hoping no one else had heard him. You were furious with him for bringing it up here, in public, first thing in the morning, but you were also not prepared for that question and a cold feeling of dread slipped through your veins like ice.

“You’re in a relationship with this guy; at some point, eventually, you’ll get married, right? And that’s it, then; you’re staring down the barrel of what, 70 years without it? You’ve already had your last time. Do you remember it? Was it even good?”

You knew it wasn’t because the last time anyone did it was the first – and only – time your boyfriend had and that had been an unmitigated disaster.

“We’re not that serious, Taehyung. We’re not getting married.”

“Maybe not now, but if you don’t break up, that’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Is it really something you’re willing to give up forever? For him?”

Your coffee had arrived and you had hoped you could take it and run, but Taehyung picked up your cup with his spare hand and wandered towards a spare table.

“I don’t even know why you care so much,” you hissed as you sat opposite him at the table.

“I don’t know why you don’t. You asked me for a reason and you are apparently completely unwilling to listen to anything. Is what I’m saying so radical? What do your other friends say?”

You couldn’t answer that question because you hadn’t told anyone else. It was too embarrassing.

“Have you even told anyone else?”

“No.”

“Then why me? Because I’m just some disgusting, shallow fuckboy whose opinion you don’t care about except when it might benefit you? Because you expected me to say that I don’t go down on the women I sleep with? Expected me to make some crude joke or cruel comment about them? Because you think that, just because I sleep with a lot of people, I must not respect them enough to treat them right? All of the above?”

The silence between the two of you was thick, untouched by the noise and bustle of the café around you. You couldn’t deny that basically everything he had said was true, but hearing him say it made you feel thoroughly shamed.

“I’m not offended,” he continued. “Because I know that none of that is true, as does everyone who actually knows me. You haven’t bothered to get to know me-”

“Yeah because all you do is try to get in my pants!”

“How is that true? Did I not just tell you that I’m not trying to fuck you? That this isn’t about me? Contrary to your beliefs, you are actually not some kind of irresistible siren whom I will make it my life mission to bed. I can live without fucking you, thank you very much. And you think I’m arrogant.”

“I don’t think I’m irresistible,” you protested weakly.

“I’m not interested in arguing with you. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He paused to give you a dramatic, over the top, sexy wink and you couldn’t stop yourself rolling your eyes. “But, for the millionth time, I am serious about this. And you need to get serious about it. Here, enjoy your coffee, sweetheart.”

He slid your cup towards you, stood, and left before you could tell him off for calling you that again. You were rattled and frustrated and couldn’t stop thinking about the rest of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it that day or that week or even into the next week. You saw your boyfriend three times and had sex that you couldn’t enjoy because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was the last time, with him pounding away inside you, that he finally noticed.

“Hey, y/n.”

He slowed, but didn’t stop.

“Where have you gone? I feel like you’re not there.”

You dragged your eyes back into focus, onto him.

“Do you think you’ll ever like it?”

He frowned, confused, and came to a stop, resting his weight on you a little.

“Like what? What are you talking about?”

“Oral.”

He groaned and you knew, even though you couldn’t see his face as he rested his forehead on your clavicle, that he was rolling his eyes.

“Do we have to talk about this again? I feel like this is all we ever talk about and I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to give me a reason! Tell me why you won’t do it!”

He rolled away, slipping out of you, and sat up and you pushed yourself upright next to him. He had never really given you an answer, other than that he ‘just doesn’t like it’ and you thought this little pause might be him finally deciding to tell you.

“Tell me why it matters so much!” he countered and your hope deflated. “I get you off, don’t I? It’s not like I’m selfish. Why do you need me to do it so badly?”

“Because I like it! Because I do things for you! Because... Because it makes me feel bad that you don’t.”

“Oh I make you feel bad? All this time I spend trying to make you feel good-”

“I don’t! I don’t feel good! I don’t feel good because you make me feel like there must be something wrong with me! No one else has ever had a problem with it-”

“Now who’s making who feel bad? If everyone else you’ve fucked likes it so much, why don’t you just go and ask them to do it?”

“What?”

“Well, if they all love doing it so much and you need it so fucking desperately, why not ask them?”

“Are you serious right now?”

His jaw dropped as if you’d just hit him.

“Of course I’m not fucking serious! Are you joking? You’re my fucking girlfriend! As if I would let you do that! I don’t understand why you can’t just be happy with what we have.”

He was standing and putting his feet back into his boxers and trousers. You didn’t want him to leave. Because you wanted him to stay and change his mind. You wanted him to suddenly turn around and say, actually, I was wrong, please allow me to go down on you for hours and hours... You knew he wouldn’t.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand.

“Do you love me?”

At that moment, no, you truly didn’t. It took all your strength to look him in the eye and answer.

“Yes, of course.”

He kissed you and told you the same and then he told you to get some rest and sleep on it and that things would look better in the morning.

You had had this argument enough times to know that it wouldn’t. Things would look the same in the morning. In actual fact, they looked worse.

You still couldn’t get Taehyung’s words out of your mind, any of them. The idea of anyone worshipping you was faintly absurd, a rhetorical flourish you’re sure he didn’t mean literally, but he seemed so sincere and, well, they didn’t say he had a magical dick for nothing.

You called Tara.

“Ok, I need you to be really real with me and also to not ever tell anyone I asked you this.”

“Oh my god, the intrigue... Go on.”

“Just exactly how good is Taehyung in bed?”

She cackled loudly down the phone and then sighed, suddenly wistful.

“Still, by far, the best I have ever had. I still miss him.”

“Ok, but I don’t know how good the other people you’ve slept with are. I need like, some objective measure-”

“Why? Are you planning to sleep with him?”

“No! God no! I just don’t believe that what people say about him can be true, so I’m … I don’t know... checking...”

Her responding hum sounded unconvinced.

“Well, he once made me come for like, two straight minutes. I thought I was going to die and I could barely walk the next day; every muscle in my body was sore.”

“Is that... good?”

“YES! I meant it when I said you shouldn’t turn him down if he ever offers. I have never had as many orgasms in one night as when I was with him. He just... He fucking loves it and he loves you when he’s fucking you. He kind of takes it almost weirdly seriously? But like, in a good way. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I may have been drunk at the bar that time, but I honestly could still cry about how much I miss fucking him.”

“Jesus.”

“Not even he can help me, y/n.”

“Ok, well, thanks. I guess.”

“Did that help? I seriously think you should fuck him; I promise I won’t even be jealous because it is truly something I think everyone should get to experience at least once.”

“I am not sure that’s a normal thing to say about someone.”

“Taehyung is not normal.”

* * *

Two days. It was two days before you snapped. You took a deep breath, pressed call, and held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Do you want to eat me out?”

You could hear choking at the other end and a muffled ‘hold on’. You held on.

“Sorry, what the fuck did you just ask me?”

“I said, do you want to eat me out?”

“Is this a hypothetical question? Because you know I have already made the offer.”

“So you do want to eat me out?”

“Again, is this hypothetical or are you asking me over right now?”

Another deep breath.

“I’m asking you over right now.”

“Give me your address.”

You paced up and down your living room, anxious, impatient. The sheets on the bed were clean; you’d showered and then done it again for no real reason other than an irrational fear of him thinking you were dirty; you hesitated over whether or not to light candles – it felt like too much, too romantic but would also mean you could turn out the lights, keep it dark... You were just about to find the matches again when there was a knock at the door.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

His grin was wide as he stepped over the threshold but it did nothing to put you at ease.

“Do you want a drink or something?” you asked as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Whatever you want. I am at your service.”

He bowed, thrusting an arm elaborately to the side, his head dipping low as he bent deeply from the hips.

“Please don’t be weird. Don’t make this weird.”

“What’s weird about it? Like I said, what’s a little oral between friends? Platonic pussy eating, that’s all it is.”

“I said don’t be weird! Why do you have to put it like that?”

“Well, what is it if not that? I assume you don’t suddenly want to date me.”

“God, no-”

He raised his eyebrows at you, questioning, demanding.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.”

He shrugged.

“It’s alright. I know you still think we’re not friends, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He was suddenly close to you, a little too close. He looked down at you, and you expected to look up and see that arrogant smirk, the quirked eyebrow that he thought was so sexy, but he’s just smiling, sweet, cute.

“I’m glad you called, though. Glad you’ve finally seen the light and ditched Dickless-”

“I haven’t. We’re still together.”

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth a little ‘o’ of surprise.

“You haven’t? And yet here I am... I thought you were a good girl.”

“Shut up, Taehyung. Stop trying to flirt with me.”

You moved away from him, towards the fridge, and got out a bottle of wine, more for something to do than anything else. You poured two glasses and held one out to him.

“How do you expect me to go down on you if you won’t even let me flirt with you a little?”

“You don’t have to flirt with me if I’ve already agreed to it. There’s no need.”

“That’s what you think flirting is? Just a way to get into somebody’s bed? That is not what flirting is for – well, not the only thing.”

He considered you carefully over his wine glass and you could feel yourself blushing all over; he kept his gaze steady, his face betraying nothing, and then he held his hand out to you. You didn’t take it but you moved closer to him, just close enough that he could reach out and grab you by the waist, pulling you up against him.

“Just so we’re clear,” he began, his voice low, his eyes pointedly fixed on yours. “If we do this and you don’t break up with Dickless, I will consider it a failure.”

You didn’t know what you felt. What would make this a success? What would make it a failure? Did you want it to be good? So good you ended your relationship? Or did you want it to be disappointing, maybe literally anticlimactic, so that you could stay with him and not feel like you were missing out? You had absolutely no idea. You didn’t even really know why you were doing it. Was it a good idea? What had possessed you? All you knew was that it had to be done. Now or never. For once and for all.

He placed his wine glass on the counter and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers just lightly grazing your skin. Your stomach twisted and you squirmed out of his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop your heart racing.

“What are you doing? Did you or did you not invite me over so I could go down on you?”

“Well, yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean all of... All of that.”

You heard him chuckle behind you and you turned slightly, just enough that you could see him run his hands through his hair and roll his eyes, the boxy grin back on his face.

“Y’know, I’m starting to think that maybe you are the problem. At least a little bit.”

When you didn’t move and didn’t respond, he sighed again, lightly exasperated.

“Come here,” he commanded softly, holding his hands out to you. When you didn’t move, he walked towards you instead. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Do you trust me?”

When you didn’t answer, he shook your head lightly side to side.

“I don’t mean like, trust me with your family secrets, trust me to take care of your pets while you’re on holiday. I mean... Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

You shook your head and he moved his face even closer.

“Do you think I’m going to do something you don’t want?”

You shook your head and he lightly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you think I’m going to make you do something you don’t want?”

You shook your head and he kissed your other cheek.

“So, do you trust me?”

You nodded, dumb with anticipation and tension, shocked at the way your body was responding to this, just this: he hadn’t even kissed you on the mouth but you were trembling, warm, wet.

“Ok, then,” he whispered and he moved his hands down your body, then back up on the inside of your clothes. His hands were cold and you shivered against him, closing your eyes.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked back to him and he kissed your lips, just barely, still looking you in the eye, and a whimper caught in your throat. He closed his eyes and pulled you closer, his lips pressing against yours now. He removed a hand from your waist and gently pressed his thumb against your chin, opening your mouth to allow his tongue inside. His kiss was warm and sweet with wine; his tongue was soft against yours, slow as he licked into your mouth and retreated. You chased after his mouth when his lips left yours and you could feel him smile as he let you close the distance and kiss him again. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and sucked it gently, a barely perceptible pressure that made your knees tremble.

You could feel all the heat rushing through your blood, flowering on the surface of your skin in warm blooms as you let yourself relax. All the tension you were holding melted away, evaporating on your skin, leaving you soft and pliant. A deep, dark want blossomed in you, its petals unfurling in your core, arousal first like dew drops, then like a sudden summer downpour buffeting the pale heads of roses. You had thought this would be quick, frantic with need, with guilt, with anxiety, but all of that was held at bay by the gentle way that Taehyung ran his tongue over yours, ran his hands over your body, held you just close enough that you could feel him against you but not so close you felt trapped.

He moved from your mouth and placed kisses on your temple, your ear, your jaw. As he sucked kisses down your neck, you were so distracted that you didn’t notice him unclasp your bra, only aware when he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, already hard. He moaned against your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he pulled your hips against his. You gasped, both at the bite, and at the feeling of him, stiffening, growing against you. He ran his tongue over the indentations in your neck and you shivered.

“Can I take your clothes off?”

His voice was raspy and low in your ear as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. You sighed a yes and looked into his eyes as his fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse. His eyes were soft, liquid, the light glinting off them in gold and honey. He took his time, each button slow, his eyes never leaving yours. He nudged your nose with his, licked your bottom lip, sank his teeth into it, sucked it into his mouth.

He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then he pulled the straps of your bra down and it fell, too. He finally dropped his gaze and took in the sight of your naked torso, nipples taut, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as he gently took them in his hands, massaging, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. He hummed quietly.

“Shall we go to the bedroom now?”

You couldn’t speak, only nodded, and walked backwards until your legs hit your bed, then you let him lay you down.

“Can I take this off?” he asked again, holding the edge of your skirt. Again, you nodded and he pulled gently, the fabric almost burning against your legs as it dragged. He kissed your feet and you squirmed.

“Ticklish?” He grinned and licked the sole of your left foot from heel to toe with the tip of his tongue as you squealed.

“Yes, I am!” you gasped. He chuckled and relented, trailing soft, wet kisses up your legs. You held your breath as he licked at your inner thighs, anticipating him at your core.

But he wasn’t there. He slipped his hands underneath at the hips and lifted the fabric so he could lick the crease of your leg and then pulled it down so he could kiss across the waistband from hip bone to hip bone, but he didn’t touch you. Your heart was racing in your chest now; what was he waiting for?

He hummed against your skin and moved above you, his hands on either side of your chest. He looked at you, almost quizzical for a second, and then that look faded into a smile that – had it been anyone else – you might’ve called adoring. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you.

“Relax, y/n. I can feel your heart beating from here.”

Resting his full weight on one hand, he placed the other between your breasts, atop your sternum, your heart pushing back, thumping against your ribs.

“But aren’t you gonna...?”

He kissed you again, forceful this time, leaving you breathless as he pulled away.

“Yes, I am. But we’re doing it my way, ok? Just relax; I’m going to take good care of you.”

He shuffled downwards, lips everywhere on his path down your neck, across your chest. You whined when he took your nipple in his mouth, your back arching into him as he sealed his teeth around it, his tongue lapping at your tightened bud.

Everything was so slow. You felt like a frog in a pan; you hadn’t really noticed it building, this huge, hungry desire, but now you were drowning in it, burning, melting. It enveloped you, held you, suspended, cushioned in its warmth but needled by its intensity. It sent its buds out from your centre to your extremities, your fingers and toes tingling, your body trembling, your breath catching in your throat. Flowers of want blooming all over you, petals falling from Taehyung’s lips, soft and sweet and warm.

You let out a long, shaky whine when he finally locked his fingers around your underwear and tugged them down, his hands sliding against your legs as he pulled them all the way off.

“Taehyung,” you whispered as he pushed your legs apart, crawling back towards you.

“Yes?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew there was something, something inside you that you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. Everything was obscured by the veil of your greed, your craven yearning for him. You wanted his mouth on you so badly, wanted to be wanted. You remembered what he said about worship and a sudden panic sliced through you with painful clarity.

“I-… What if it is me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”

He pressed a soft kiss against your inner thigh and then loomed over you.

“It’s not you, I promise.”

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses pressed together, his hand on your cheek.

“You’re perfect. Perfect, you hear me? If you’ve changed your mind about this, that’s ok-”

“No, god no,” you answered quickly, immediately, absolutely sure that you wanted this, your nails digging into his arms. “Please...”

He kissed you, slow, even slower than before, and he lowered his body down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. It’s only then that you realised he was still fully dressed. And you were completely naked beneath him, so exposed and so vulnerable. You pushed him back, a light palm against his chest, and he looked at you, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked at his eyes, somehow both shining and dark at the same time; his pouty mouth just barely open; his hips pressing into yours; his erection hot and hard against you, almost exactly where it needed to be, so you could just tip your hips and rub yourself on him, feel the friction you were desperate for. He looked at you so openly and it wasn’t like you expected it to be at all. None of it was. You thought he would be arrogant, cocksure, swaggering; you thought he would be rough, wild, frenetic; you thought it was all bluster and machismo, that he’d keep calling you ‘baby’ and asking how you liked it and trying to make you scream. You hadn’t even really believed that he would get you there. Whether due to you or to him, you had thought it probably wouldn’t happen. Your boyfriend had made you too self-conscious; Taehyung wouldn’t put the effort in or wouldn’t know what to do.

But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at you questioningly, searchingly, like he actually cared. And he had moved so slowly, so patiently; he was rock-hard against you, but hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. This was the first time he’d even really pressed his hips against you so you could feel him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, tried to feel yourself in your body. You could feel the ghost of his breath over your face, his hand curled around your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly over your skin. There was the weight of his body, the warmth of it. You wanted to feel his skin in yours.

“Take your clothes off,” you whispered, opening your eyes to look at him.

He grinned and sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out to unzip his trousers but he batted your hand away. He unzipped them himself and stood to step out of them.

“Better?” he asked, already making his way back to you, but shook your head.

“No. Everything.”

His eyebrows raised just a hair and he paused, considering you.

“You know this is not about me, right?”

“I know. I just want to see you.”

He nodded slowly and hooked his thumbs into boxers, sliding them down and stepping out. His dick was wet with pre-cum and you couldn’t believe he could be so hard when you hadn’t even touched him, when he had barely touched you. He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles, slowly pulling you down, down, down, until you were just barely still lying on it, your feet touching the floor until he spread your thighs to the side, as wide as they could go.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his words muffled as he kissed your thigh.

“Yes, fuck. Yes, Taehyung. Please.”

He was still slow. Slow as he pressed kisses against your lips, on your mound, back out to the crease of your hip, your thighs. You whined when he ran his fingers through your folds, hearing the slick of your arousal as he dragged up to your clit and down again, as he opened you up. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you jumped, swallowing hard, trying to catch your breath as he opened his lips and sucked. He laved over your clit with the soft, flat pad of his tongue and you sighed, having forgotten this feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, sprinkling kisses across your legs, your mound, your lips. “Tell me what works for you, what doesn’t.”

But you couldn’t speak. You moaned and mewled and whimpered, but no words would come. You were swept away on a wave of pleasure, not in the room anymore, but somewhere else, somewhere nothing else existed – just you and Taehyung and this bed. You wanted to tell him yes, like that, more, yes, please, please, please, but the air was tight in your lungs, stuck in your throat, whipped away as it left your mouth in a strangled whine.

He moaned loudly as he licked over your slit, drinking you in.

“Y/n.”

His breath was warm, brushing against your flushed skin.

“You taste so good, y/n. I fucking knew you would.”

He moved his mouth away again, biting down on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as he slipped first one and then two fingers into your wet heat. You whined, greedy, needy, grinding your hips, trying to feel some friction back on your clit. Taehyung hummed against your skin and you felt his lips stretch into a smile.

“Don’t hold back, y/n. I love the way you sound.”

And you didn’t. You let yourself go, let yourself fall into it, abandoned yourself to him. With his fingers still inside you and his mouth back, sealed against your clit, his tongue alternately flicking hard circles around it, then licking softly over it, you felt your body shuddering to its climax. You expected him to stop as your walls clenched hard on his fingers, to stop when your legs clamped over his ears, to stop when you writhed beneath him, fully overwhelmed as wave after wave swamped you with pleasure.

But he didn’t. He thrummed his fingers hard against your front wall, not letting you squeeze them out. He kept his mouth on you, your slick and his spit mixing as you came, gushing around him. When you finally cried out, cursing him, calling his name, he slowed, but he still didn’t stop, and you felt your whole body convulse under him. With a flash of clarity, you remembered what Tara had said, and you couldn’t believe it, knew you couldn’t take it, knew this would kill you if it went on any longer.

But it did. And you didn’t die. You felt yourself floating, your limbs weightless, your head dizzy as you climbed to your second peak, your, soft, weak body tightening, pulling in all directions at once, your skin burning, your heart like a hummingbird’s, blood roaring in your ears like the waves of the ocean. Your hands twisted in the bedsheets as you came, the noises you were making nothing short of animal.

When you flopped, spent, melting into the mattress, you pushed your fingers through Taehyung’s hair and tugged, your body screaming with over-stimulation, your bed and thighs soaked. You could hardly see; nothing but flashing lights in front of you, stars shining and twinkling on your ceiling, swirling, disappearing and reappearing like a kaleidoscope.

“Taehyung,” you panted, weak and quiet. “Stop.”

He was immediately still, those wide, open eyes looking up at you. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you and you fell, slithering like a slinky from the bed and into his arms. He held you tight, pushed your hair from your face and kissed your forehead.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him, blinking hard to stop your vision swimming. He was shiny and sticky all around his mouth, all over his chin. Those deep, autumn eyes all dark now, swirling black, glazed and penetrating. You summoned what strength you could and crashed your lips against him. You could taste yourself on him and you knew he was right. You weren’t the problem. It wasn’t you. And it certainly wasn’t this.

“Fuck me, please,” you asked, taking his face between your palms. “Please, Taehyung.”

He started shaking his head, his lip bitten between his teeth.

“That’s not what- you don’t have to- we don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I want to. Please.”

You twisted in his lap so you were straddling him, his cock leaking against you between your bodies.

“If you want to,” you added. “I... Only if you want to.”

He laughed, deep-throated and rich – you could feel it rumble in his chest.

“Oh I absolutely want to but this is... Are you sure you want to? I mean... You are still with Dickless and this-”

“Don’t fucking talk about him. I don’t want to think about him. Please, Taehyung.” You pressed another kiss against his lips, insistent, urgent. “I want you. I just want you.”

He moaned against your mouth, his arms encircling your waist, his tongue encroaching. Then he rolled and lay you down, the carpet surprisingly soft against your skin.

“I just,” he said, his mouth wandering all over you, slowly making his way down. “I just want one more taste. Please.”

He looked at you, waiting. He licked his lips and held the bottom one tight in his teeth. You could see him swallow hard, his breathing deep and heavy. You nodded and dropped your head back, keening as he licked through your folds, humming against your clit, smacking his lips as he raised himself back on his hands and knees.

“I told you you were fucking perfect.”

You moved backwards, out from underneath his arms and gave yourself carpet burn on your knees as you shuffled to the bedside table, rifling for the box of condoms you kept there. You grabbed the whole thing, crawled back to Taehyung and emptied it onto the floor. He laughed again.

“Sweetheart, even for me, that is truly ambitious.”

“Shut up.”

You fell back, your chest still heaving, your limbs still trembling, as he tore one open and rolled it down his length. He paused, his dick in his hand, held at your waiting entrance and he looked at you.

“For god’s sake, Taehyung, don’t ask me if I’m sure. Please just please just fuckin- ahh...”

He didn’t wait for you to finish. He plunged into your soft, wet cunt and moaned.

“Fuck. Please tell me that feels good.”

“It feels fucking incredible.”

He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and lifted, pushing them up and out, keeping hold of them as he began to move. Smooth and fluid, his hips rolled. Your cunt, wet and soft and sweet, held him tight, moulded to his cock, your walls fluttering around him. Heat radiated from your centre, a fire burning there, flames licking up your body. You were so sensitive, close again almost immediately, whimpering with every thrust.

You grabbed at him, pulling him down, your hand around his neck to bring him closer and closer ’til you could kiss him. Your tongues tangled and the adjusted angle made you moan straight into his mouth. You could still taste the wine, still taste yourself on him and with a shock of remembrance, you whined. This was what you loved; this was what you had been missing. The proof of the pudding: your arousal all over his face made you hot with a sudden rush. Your boyfriend could never be enough. Because it wasn’t just about you and your desire; it was about his, too. And he didn’t have it, not like this. Not like Taehyung. The strangled moans and gutteral groans escaping his throat, the rumble in his chest as he breathed ragged and uneven made you shaky with feeling. Feeling wanted in your entirety. Wanted in your animal mess. Wanted from head to toe. Inside and out. No holds barred.

“Taehyung.”

“Fuck, y/n, yeah? Tell me- tell me...”

He kissed your lips and your cheek, his hand skirting your body and grabbing at your thigh, pushing further, holding tighter, his thrusts faster now, harder, his pelvis tantalisingly close to your clit. You put a hand down between you, circling slowly, your third orgasm bubbling through your veins.

“You feel so good,” you breathed. “Fuck, so, so-… ah... shit.”

Already there, your toes curling, Taehyung hissing, cursing as you squeezed him tight inside you, pleasure blazed through you like a forest fire, every inch of you alight and burning, sparking, fireworks bursting all over you, inside you, filling your vision with dizzying colour. Taehyung was gasping, stuttering, his fingers digging into you, his teeth biting hard.

“Come, Taehyung,” you whispered to him, your voice wobbling, shaking like the rest of you.

“I w-wanna-” he stammered. “I wa- wan-”

“No, just come. For me.”

You brought your mouth to his, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, sucking gently.

“Oh, fuck.”

He juddered, thrusting hard as he let himself go, gave himself to you, gave in. He let himself flop against you for a moment, just a moment, and then he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at where you bodies met, still together. He rolled his hips one last time and you mewled, over-sensitive, overwraught. He grinned and pulled back, turning away from you as he took off and disposed of the condom.

He crawled back to you and pulled you onto your side so you were facing each other. He knocked a leg between yours and traced the curve of your body; you shivered, even his hands feeling like fire against you. He kissed you, once, and then again, and then a third time.

“You’re perfect,” he said, barely moving his mouth far enough from yours to speak, his words mumbled, muffled. “You’re fucking perfect. You understand?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly so embarrassed at what you had done. Embarrassed that you had needed this, needed him to tell you that, needed him to show you that you could be wanted how you wanted to be wanted, desired in the way you wanted, fucked like you wanted. You felt small and silly and stupid. That you had cheated on your boyfriend with the most promiscuous man on the planet just because you felt insecure. You shivered, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. You were suddenly cold and tired. Exhausted. Choked with emotions you didn’t want to admit.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, softly, his lips against your hair now. “You ok?”

“I don’t know.”

Your voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, hardly audible beneath the thumping of your heart.

“Talk to me...”

“I feel so stupid.”

“Why?”

You had to think it through, carefully, how to say it, how to express it.

“Because... I needed this. I didn’t know that I-… I-”

You crumbled, dissolved into tears, embarrassing you further. You wanted to be swallowed whole, to sink into the ground, to dessicate and turn to dust. You couldn’t speak, shame dousing you, drowning you, your hitching, heaving breath barely enough. He let you cry and you were grateful for his patience... again.

“You w-want me,” you said eventually, your voice thick, choked.

“Yeah.”

“You want me and h-he doesn’t. And I- I want to be w-wanted. I'm so... Am I undesirable?”

“Categorically, demonstrably, absolutely not.”

“Then why doesn’t he want me?”

Taehyung held you tighter, pulled you closer, kissed the top of your head and stroked your back.

“This is why I’ve been telling you to leave him, love. You shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sure he does want you, but if he can’t want you in the way that you want, in a way that makes you feel good, feel desirable, and cherished, and loved, then he shouldn’t have you.”

He pulled back, holding your face to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“I want you. Believe me, I want you. I’ve just had you and I want you all over again. You should believe that; you deserve that. Don’t let him break you down. Don’t let him do this to you.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again and he placed his thumb over it and his lips over that. He swiped his thumb across your mouth and kissed you as slowly as he had the very first time, his lips so soft, his mouth so sweet.

“If you don’t believe me,” he said, his lips just ghosting over yours, his breath washing over your face. “I will happily show you again and again and again just how desirable you are. Just how perfect you are. It’s not hyperbole; you’re fucking perfect to me. I’ll show you.”

And he did.

Not just that night or the one after that or the one after that. He showed you repeatedly again and again until you started to believe it. Until you realised that you didn’t need him to show you anymore, just wanted him to. Just wanted him.

You broke up with your boyfriend two weeks later. It was horrible and he was surprisingly vicious and you were surprisingly upset. But you knew you were right to do it and wished you had just done it earlier.

y/n: I broke up with him.

Taehyung: FINALLY

Taehyung: Guess this means you don’t need me anymore...

y/n: I didn’t say that.

y/n: Come over?

Taehyung: On my way

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #mmm repost

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local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti · 2 months ago

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The wildest thing about the whole Moo Deng situation to me is (and of course I make this about cetaceans) the insistence that everything here is fine, there’s no mishandling, Moo Deng is a spoiled princess, how dare you accuse her knowledgeable zookeepers of being anything less than perfect… by the same people who decry any and all cetacean captivity as horrific abuse.

Moo Deng getting her bum smacked is cute but an actually cute video of a dolphin playing in an aquarium is abusive. A random zoo guest is to be trusted when they say Moo Deng’s zoo is great (and to be clear I don’t know enough about this zoo to make a judgement call, all zoos have issues), but someone who’s actually worked at SeaWorld is either a liar or delusional (actual comment I received) when they say that no actually, their animals are not abused.

Yep all of this!

Honestly there seems to be a whole range of people on the defensive- from people who just like the zoo to people who made Moo Deng meme their whole personality.

I have to say it’s been really really weird actively criticising a zoo when I’m usually defending them.

But at this point my thesis of the original post is on full display. That groupthink plays a role in perception of animal welfare and people will pick the side that makes them feel the most comfortable.

For whatever reason people want to believe that a baby Pygmy hippo needs to get regularly grabbed, poked, chased and harassed because that’s what this one guy does and he has experience doing it so it’s fine?

But some of those same people saw a documentary once and decided that they know more than people with hundreds of years of combined experience with orca husbandry and care.

The people that are accepting of a challenge to that perception are willing to accept some discomfort because they’re more concerned about welfare.

When that reddit post came out (with experience including: goes to the zoo, maybe knows some history of the keeper?) it was immediately snatched up and ran with.

Since then I’ve seen the same comment of “net zero information” multiple times, the same accusations of racism and the same lines of “he’s so experienced he knows what he’s doing”, “the mum’s fine with it” and “it’s desensitisation” (that one hurts to read every time ngl

It’s like they just are copy and pasting someone else’s thoughts. Just parroting it verbatim without any sort of thought.

Not a single question asked about how this person knows this information, no demanding of qualifications or where they work… just happy acceptance of information that allows them to continue to enjoy their meme.

it’s wild to see the notes popping up in my notifications of “but he’s so experienced! He has so much training!” About this one zoo keeper that has multiple videos of him deliberately sneaking up on his animals, hitting them and blasting them with a hose.

Like damn I wish people would go to bat so hard for zookeepers all the time. Except maybe the ones that don’t harass their animals for clout?

Of course it’s kind of hilarious watching this unfold as a former dolphin trainer that regularly was called an abuser for… let’s see… training dolphins with positive reinforcement in the ocean.

Is it the intelligence thing? Do people think Pygmy hippos are too dumb to need enrichment and decent habitats? Or that because this guy raised hippos before he is completely incapable of making a mistake or using outdated practises?

I had someone genuinely saying that Pygmy hippos “just behave differently” to other animals. As if a fight or flight response behaviour looks totally different in this specific species of animal.

As if they are not ungulates who are herbivores and do absolutely get predated upon and are not immune to the stress response or somehow is incapable of feeling a smack that they very clearly startle from.

Idk the mental gymnastics people are doing to justify shitty animal husbandry must be exhausting.

#animal welfare

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banishedchildofeve · 4 months ago

Text

˚｡⋆ Patron Saints that help guide us through the year

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

- St. Dymphna ; the Patron Saint of mental illness.

while it can hard for us to admit that we are struggling mentally on a serious level, we have all had moments of feeling very low. i personally have struggled, and so struggle with, anxiety, depression, anger issues etc. these have been serious issues for me and i learnt a prayer i will link - here - that has helped me know St. Dymphna. ˚࿐

- St. Vitus ; the Patron Saint of oversleeping.

we have all overslept once, if not maybe multiple times a week or month. for some, oversleeping is a rare misfortune, but for others, including me, oversleeping is a regular problem and has affected my life in a various of negative ways. here is a - link - to a prayer that i found. ˚࿐

- St. Phillip Neri ; the Patron Saint of joy (and friendship).

i dunno about all of you guys, but i have lost more friends then i have gained since leaving high school. this isn’t a bad thing as a lot of the people i spent time with weren’t very nice, but like most people, i am always wishing for more friends. friendship is so important, and i read up about St. Phillip Neri and learnt so much. he is also the Saint of Joy! here is a - prayer - ˚࿐

- St. Padre Pio ; the Patron Saint of stress relief (and adolescents).

we all get stressed, duh. stress can take a toll on so many aspects of our lives, including our health on a long-term scale. trying to reduce stress is ironically, quite a stressful process. i have found peace in a plenty of Bible verses that talk about being calm and trusting God. i have also found peace in Padre Pio, a Saint who i knew about long before God called me to Catholicism. i have him on a bracelet, haha. here is a - prayer - by St. Padre Pio i have found, and also a - prayer - TO Padre Pio. ˚࿐

- St. Expeditus ; the Patron Saint of procrastination.

if someone says they don’t procrastinate, i’m 99.9% sure they’re lying. you do it, i do it, we know it’s bad, but it can be so hard to fight sometimes. good thing we have St. Expeditus! here is a - prayer - that we should all recite daily. i wish you the best! ˚࿐

- St. Anthony ; the Patron Saint of lost things.

my keys, my glasses, my card, sometimes even whole outfits or pairs of shoes… how many times a week, even a day, do we lose things we own? i’m sure we all know about St. Anthony, most atheists know about him, but i often find myself forgetting that he is there for us. a - prayer - to the finder of those annoying lost items.

- St. Jude ; the Patron Saint of lost causes (and “impossible” circumstances).

we have all thought a situation we’ve been in is completely and totally helpless. we’re stuck, there’s no way out and this feeling might just be forever. despite how hard these moments are, however long or short they may last, they do always end. we end up feeling better. however, that’s not to say that that feeling of helplessness isn’t so hard to bare. i’ve been there, i understand. i only recently learnt about St. Jude, (prior to this, the only ‘jude’ i knew of was the Beatles song… forgive me…). thankfully, St. Jude represents hope for the hopeless and miracles for all of us facing those helpless circumstances. - prayers

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

i hope this was somehow useful. God bless you. <3

౨ৎ

i also just make up my own prayers to Saints when needed. sometimes we don’t resonate with a prayer, and that’s okay. i often add to prayers or find myself reciting my own. i linked prayers for suggestions, not as some sort of strict guideline :)

౨ৎ

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themotherofhorses · 2 years ago

Note

Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !

I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛

Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader

warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.

notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style

(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)

masterlist

A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.

Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.

However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.

It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.

Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.

But you…

He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.

Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.

(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)

You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.

“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.

And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.

Cherries?

Strawberries? Blueberries?

Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?

“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.

He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.

He wanted you, now and forever.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.

He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.

Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.

How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?

It did not make any sense to him.

Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.

Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.

And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.

Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.

You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.

He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”

“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”

He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.

But where is the fun in that?

“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”

Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.

“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.

“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.

“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”

You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”

The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.

Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”

Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”

He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”

Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.

His pretty whore, forever and always.

“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.

“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.

“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”

You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.

“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.

How thankful you are that you met him.

Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”

You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.

Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.

Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.

There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.

You’ll find out on your own time.

You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”

And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.

You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.

“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.

“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.

Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.

I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.

But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.

You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.

The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.

He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.

The way it should be, the way it will be.

It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.

Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.

He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.

“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”

Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”

He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.

“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”

“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”

He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”

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