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#These two are couple goals change my mind
choslut · 12 days
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.
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↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.
tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k
author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
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it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 
it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 
it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 
“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“
nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”
he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 
he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 
it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 
“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”
he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 
nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 
well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 
“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”
“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 
you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 
“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”
your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 
“kentooo…”
“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 
you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”
copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 
he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 
“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 
“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”
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PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia
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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.
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onelittlespiral · 6 months
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FML: Video
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“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”
My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”
“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”
“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”
“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”
“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”
“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”
“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”
“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”
Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.
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Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:
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Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.
I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.
“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”
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Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”
“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.
It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”
His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”
“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”
“To serve my bros,” he replied.
“Will you do anything for them?”
His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“
I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”
He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”
“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”
His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”
“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”
He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.
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flwrstqr · 4 months
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— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)
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SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.
THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader
GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance
WORD COUNT 5k+
WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying
DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><
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BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.
Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.
"YN LN?" the woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.
"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.
"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.
"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.
For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.
"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)
Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.
Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
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YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?
“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.
“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.
“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.
“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.
“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”
You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.
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PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.
“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.
“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.
“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”
“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.
“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.
“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.
A FEW MINUTES BEFORE
“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.
“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.
“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.
“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.
“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.
“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.
“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.
“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.
NOW
“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.
“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.
“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.
“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.
Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.
“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.
“Huh?” you looked confused.
“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?
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YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.
YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)
You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.
Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 
YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?
Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh
You smile, feeling a little more at ease.
YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao
Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.
YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?
Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig
YN: oh rlly? Same w me 
Heeseung: oh that’s cool
Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?
YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.
Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)
You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.
YN: Sounds like a plan.
Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.
YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?
Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)
You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.
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YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 
“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.
“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.
“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.
“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.
“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 
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AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.
“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.
You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.
“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.
“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.
As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.
“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.
“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.
“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.
As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.
“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.
“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 
“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.
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 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.
You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.
“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”
Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”
“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”
“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”
You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.
“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.
Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.
“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”
Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”
“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.
“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”
When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.
“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”
At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.
Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.
“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.
“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”
Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 
Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..
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YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“YN?”
You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.
“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.
“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.
Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.
“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.
“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.
“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.
But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 
“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.
“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.
“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.
You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.
“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.
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YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.
The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.
Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.
“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.
As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.
As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.
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AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 
You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 
You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 
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THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?
The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.
Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.
"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"
"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."
There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.
"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.
"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."
You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.
"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."
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AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 
“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.
"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 
Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?
Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 
You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 
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THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 
With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.
To: Editor Yeseo
Subject: Resignation Letter
Dear Yeseo,
I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.
Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely, YN
You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 
You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.
Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 
Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.
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IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].
As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 
Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.
"When I set out to write this article..."
He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?
As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.
"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."
Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.
He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:
When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.
I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.
I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.
So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.
Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.
He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.
With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.
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HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.
As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.
But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.
Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 
As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.
"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.
"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"
Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."
He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."
Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.
But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 
As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.
You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 
"I love you," you whisper softly. 
"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.
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wyniepooh · 5 months
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Coach
patrick zweig has an interesting approach to coaching; it becomes even more interesting when it’s with you.
coach!patrick zweig x tennisplayer!reader. You desperately need a coach to help you, coach zweig seems to want something else 🤘🤘 (and you don’t mind ofc). Mentions of being broke #relatable. I imagine this to be set either before the challengers match, or after, either way works.
If it were up to you, you’d say that the place was a little sketchy.
if it were up to you, you would’ve left the moment you saw the lone beaten up car in the lot and the acrylic chipping off of the concrete ground.
But in the end, it really wasn’t up to you. The continuously decreasing numbers in your bank account was a constant taunt, a bullying reminder that if you wanted those numbers to change— to rise— you’d need a coach to push you into the championships.
Even if that coach choose a training spot that looked damn-near abandoned.
“hey. uh… patrick. patrick zweig,” he extended his arm.
You took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze as you dropped your bag onto the bench beside you. you smiled. “Shouldn’t I call you coach zweig?”
he smiled, chuckling at the ground, then shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “whatever you want."
he cleared his throat, “so uh… what’s your plan here? I mean- what are your goals? why do you play tennis?”
You pulled out your racket and a couple of balls, setting them on the ground before quickly throwing your hair up into a ponytail. “Why are you coaching tennis?"
His arms crossed over his chest, and your eyes flickered to his biceps for a quick second before returning to his gaze. The silence was long, but surprisingly, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward like silence usually is. he smiled, and laughed again at your innuendo as he bent down and picked up your racket.
Grabbing the handle from his extended hand, you grinned. “That’s exactly my goal, too.”
You bounced the ball as you walked towards the court, closing your eyes for a moment to feel the sun on your skin. The sun was hot; burning, even, but the wind offered a cooling solace. His crisp voice snapped you back to reality.
“So, let’s see your serve.”
The next hour completely diminished whatever doubts you had about patrick zweig. Despite his rather tattered clothing that proved he was a low-ranking player with no sports sponsorships on his back, and despite his racket that seemed to be slightly crooked— he knew the fucking game.
And he also knew just how to provoke you.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
Hunched over the ground with your hands on your thighs and sweat dripping onto the green floor, you panted, “what?”
“You’re getting sloppy. Having stamina is crucial to the game, you know.”
You chuckled. “I can keep going. No problem.”
“Then prove it," he tossed you another ball, your slippery hand barely catching it in time, "come on, keep going."
Your next hit bounced off the net. Your next serve was out. After the ball attacked the net yet again, you threw your racket to the side, curses spilling out from under your breath.
“Thought you could keep going?”
“Give me a break," you muttered as you crouched down to stretch your legs that didn’t need stretching.
“No.”
you groaned. “come on, coach, I’m in a slump. Give me five and I’ll get back on it.”
“You don’t get to slack off in a real game. And based off of how gently you just threw your racket, you probably can’t afford to, either.”
Your body snapped up. “the fuck did you just say?”
He laughed lightly, raising his hands up by his head defensively as he walked closer towards you. You mirrored his movements, stepping closer until all that separated the two of you was the net, flowing freely with the wind.
“Look, all I'm just saying is, I don’t usually get many students signing up to experience my coaching. Not because I’m not good," he swatted his arm as he spoke, his other arm using his racket as a cane, "fuck no, but because my going rate is pretty low. the lowest, even. I’m just making an observation.”
You rolled your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly as you rested your hands on your hips. patrick had a grin about him, a stupid, annoying smirk that almost made you believe he knew something about you that even you, yourself, didn’t know.
Walking a couple steps closer to him until you felt the harsh scratch of the net against your knees, you whispered, “don’t assume anything about me.”
Your eyes subconsciously fluttered to his nose, then his lips, before coming back up to his eyes. smoothing out your brows, a layer of subtle desire spread behind your stare. you muttered, “Maybe I wanted you to coach me simply because I like you.”
His expression softened with feigned surprise. “Oh, do you now?” His face came closer to you.
you finally had an opportunity to ponder his face; his messy stubble all unkempt and long, the sweat on his forehead soaking his dark curls so perfectly on his face. or a moment, you weren't sure of where to go or what to do. In the end, he broke the stare-off with a murmur, “show me how much you like me, then.”
you didn't know if the heat spreading to your face was from the bright sun, his words, or from the blooming ache in your stomach. Either way, you stepped back with haste, grabbed another ball and prepared to serve.
A loud grunt came from you as you made your hit, and patrick reciprocated your energy, returning the ball with the same brutal force and speed.
Maybe he did poke at a sore wound. Yes, you were broke and young and desperate, but wasn’t he in the same situation? did he think you wouldn't notice the absolute state of the rented court and his shabby shoes?
But whatever it is that he did, it worked. Your feet were off the ground in an instant, and you heard the smack of the ball against the concrete before you even saw it. When you came back down, you immediately became aware of the sweat dripping down your face, your back, your legs, and the absolute relief of it all.
“There it is.”
You looked up. Patrick was smiling, widely, with that same old grin, like he was so proud that his trick had worked. as you began walking off the court, you couldn’t help but laugh, albeit dryly, at the whole situation. grabbing a towel from the bench and swinging it over your shoulder, you chimed,
“Hey, uh… coach, how much are you charging again?” you looked down at your feet, fidgeting nervously with your fingers as you mustered up all your strength to meet his eyes.
you tried to hide your shock when you finally turned your head to look at him, catching the sparkle of blue and a hint of something else in his eyes. he was standing close, really close, close enough for you to smell him and see him and practically feel him.
your eyes followed the movement of his arm as it reached towards your shoulder, his hand grasping one end of the towel and dabbing the fabric against your temple. he dropped the cloth, fingertips dancing over your cheek as he grazed a stray hair behind your ear, barely breathing a response,
“How much are you willing to give?”
-
a/n: I DO NOT PLAY TENNIS NOR DO I RLLY KNOW HOW IT WORKS. love the art appreciation but I feel like we need to step it up w the pat fics as well so I’m taking one for the team 🫡
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ziggyzolch · 6 months
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Queen Bee-atch Ⅰ (Regina George x Reader)
Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right?
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Light seeps through the blinds and birds start to make themselves known with their melodic chirps. Aggressive rustling can be heard from outside your door as you throw a mini tantrum on your, now ruffled up, sheets. Sleepless nights weren't new to you, but they don't get any less frustrating. You stare at the ceiling for a good 30 seconds before finally pushing yourself off your bed. Walking to turn off the air conditioning, you trip over god-knows what and fall flat on your face. The first day of junior year and you're already contemplating ending it all, on the floor of your dump of a bedroom, laying next to a-
"My mascara!", you exclaimed as you sat up. You lost that thing ages ago. You get up, taking the mascara with you and make your way into the bathroom. Becoming a junior wasn't anything you cared for. After sophomore year, the illusion of high school you created in your head had melted away, leaving behind a hollow teenage girl that just wanted to get it over and done with.
Putting away your mascara, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror. A bed-head ridden girl with deep eye bags, which only seem to become more obvious with each passing day, stares back at you. "God, I look horrific," you thought out loud. A habit, in hindsight, you needed to rid yourself of. Going through your morning routine, you think about the coming school year. 11th grade! Will this be the year you reinvent yourself? You could completely change yourself; The way you walk, talk, act, and dress!
...
Who are you kidding.
After successfully poking your eye with your eyeliner three times, you're done. You peak your head out your bathroom door, glancing at the cat-themed clock you've had since you were a baby. It's 8 am. Classes start at 8:15. Curses fall out of your mouth. Did time warp halfway through your routine or something? Running out of the bathroom you quickly change into your clothes, a worn out band T-shirt and black cargos. You can hear your mother cursing at you from downstairs as you make your way out your room. "You're going to be late on your first day, seriously?" Your mom deadpans as you reach the bottom of the stairs. "Whatever, mom, they don't even care."
Walking to school instead of letting your mother drive you was probably not the best idea, but you're too far from the house to care right now. You turn the final corner and arrive at your final location, North Shore High School. Approaching the doors, you can already make out two students face-mashing each other through the window.
✮✮✮
You've been a student at North Shore since freshman year, but anyone could mistake you for a new student, if they even noticed you that is. You pride yourself in being able to blend in with the crowd. This school was filled with losers, so you fit right in. They had already been assigned, so you made your way through the various cliques grouped up in the hallways and to your locker. As much as you hated this place, it's what you're used to. You'd have a hard time adjusting to a new high school, at least at this one you knew who to avoid. You don't even think about it anymore since you don't run into them much- nevermind. "Watch it, freak!"
Great, of anyone you could've bumped into, it's the queen bitch, Regina George. "Whatever." you mumbled and began to walk away when you were pulled back by your bag and shoved back into the lockers...hard. "This is the part where you apologize, Gerard Way." she spits at you while holding the straps of your backpack. A bit of black eyeliner and suddenly you're emo at this school. She was a couple inches taller than you, making it all the more embarrassing, looking up at her. Wriggling around proves unsuccessful. Is there a gym-bro buried beneath her layers of pink and pretty or something? Getting out of her grip doesn't seem like a possibility, so you begrudgingly mumble out a "Sorry..."
She stares at you for a few seconds too long.
"Uhm...can I go now?" You ask. "Yeah uh, sure, whatever." She finally lets you go and storms away towards her group of all-mighty "biatches", or "Plastics" as some (mainly Damien and Janis) call them.
So much for not being noticed.
✮✮✮
A/N: this is my first time writing, so any constructive criticism would be great! forgive any awkward wording or corny-ness. There are more chapters up on my wattpad and ao3, same username for both. @ziggyzolch
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douceurrrr · 1 year
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𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲
— the nerd with the big cock finally loses his virginity
warnings | unedited raw material, face fucking, spanking, doggy,fingering, breeding, first time, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
a/n | inspired by this audio link
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you agreed to study this big test with ethan because he said that he knows a good way to study for the test and to be honest you didn’t really know how to study for the test, it was just too much to study but ethan insisted on helping you. ethan didn’t know where he found the balls to ask you to come over to his dorm to study but he did not thinking you were going to come anyways, a girl like you would never be around a guy like him he thought.
meanwhile ethan is chilling in his dorm until he heard a knock on his door, he walks over and opens it to see you with two binders labeled biochemistry on them. “oh hi, I didn’t really think you were going to come.” he sounded so surprised. “I needed help, didn’t i?” you replied with a smirk, letting yourself look behind him and in his dorm, you could tell he was very neat and clean. “I know you said you needed help studying but I didn’t think you would actually show up.” he nervously chuckled with his hand behind his head.
“are you busy or something? because I can totally come another ti-”
“no!”ethan cuts you off but instantly speaks again. “I mean no, you’re fine, I’m so happy you’re here.” he says, daydreaming a bit but realizes that you were still standing there. “oh sorry, please come in.” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “my uh roommate, chad isn’t here so it’s just us.” ethan says.
“chad as in meeks?” ethan rolled his eyes knowing he instantly lost a chance to hook up with you. “I know, it’s such a coincidence that they put the jock and the nerd together.” he huffed making you laugh a bit which was all he wanted to hear. “but in all seriousness my roommate is nice, he’s just never here.” ethan explains.
“oh um I’m sorry these dorms are so damn small, you can sit on my desk and I’ll sit on the couch?” ethan says making his way to the couch, his curls bouncing with each step. “actually I think I should sit next to you?” you wanted to be closer to ethan. “oh yeah sure, you can sit next to me if you want.” ethan replied with hope still in his mind that you are the slightest bit of attracted to him.
“yeah I forgot my laptop.” ouch that hurt. “oh yeah you want to sit next to me so we can share my laptop.” he nods as the hope that he had vanished but actually you just wanted to be close to him. you move next to him on the couch, getting closer and closer so you can “see the screen”
as you got closer and closer ethan felt his cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry, am I too close?” you said with your eyelashes fluttering at him. “uhm no, get uh as close as you need to.” ethan says, stumbling over his words. after a couple of minutes of silence Ethan notices you shivering a little bit which made his heart swell up to the thought of your discomfort, it’s not like you can get anymore closer to him because you two were basically hip to hip. “hey are you cold- here let me just.” you felt a arm slide onto your shoulders making you warm up a bit.
“is this comfy?” ethan says, voice laced with concern. you nodded. silence washed over the two of you and you can’t bear the tension anymore so you did the unthinkable and placed your hand on ethan’s thigh, hoping you’ll get to your goal. ethan felt a hand on his thigh and instantly sucked in his breath at the feeling. “a-are you hands still cold or something b-because your hand is pretty close to my uh cock.” ethan stutters while staring at your hand that was close to his erection.
“I’m sorry, is this fine?” you replied, acting like your gesture wasn’t intentional. “oh no no it’s fine it’s just uh your hand is pretty close to my erection a-and I don’t want it to uh shock you- oh now your touching it.” he says changing the subject once he felt you actually touch his bulge. ethan’s breathing starts to change and beads of sweat starts to form on his forehead. you see his facial expressions and instantly think that you fucked up, fuck he probably think I’m some sexual assaulter.
“t-that actually feels pretty good.” he breaths out and relief washes over you. you start to realize what you were feeling was pretty big making your eyes widen at the feeling. “a-all that is your erection?” no fucking way. “yes all that is my erection.” he replied with a gulp of his throat. then without thinking you asked, “c-can I see it?” ethan’s face turns beet red at your choice of words.
“y-you want to see it?” ethan says in disbelief. you just nod, not trusting your mouth anymore. “um well I guess you can see it.” he says, slightly nervous. he’s nervousness makes you a bit uneasy but it clicks in your brain, “are you a virgin?” ethan instantly babbles words. “what?! no I’m not completely a virgin.” what does he mean by “not completely a virgin”
“what do you mean by not completely a virgin?” you say, making air quotes with your fingers. “what do I mean? uh I uh tried with a few girl but uh my dick is just so big that I could never get more than just the tip in.” right when he said that you bursted out laughing. “are your joking?” you laughed while ethan says “no I’m not joking- why are you laughing.” you thought ethan was trying to be cocky with you but he wasn’t joking the slightest.
“so im not a virgin, s’just no one has been able to take it all before but uhm you still want to see it?” ethan says with you following with a nod. ethan puts his hand on his belt but pauses to say one more thing, “just don’t laugh, m’kay?” ethan says waiting for a confirmation, you mumbled something along the lines of scouts honor then tells him to get on with it. the sounds of a buckle unbuckling fills your ear as you watch ethan unbuckle his pants, he lift his hips to shove down his pants but waits a little to pull down his boxers, he takes off his boxers, he’s cock springs out of his boxers on it's own, slapping the skin of his stomach, you stared in awe.
“don’t laugh.” he says but noticed your lack of words, he’s huge. “s-see this is why I knew this wasn’t going to be a good idea.” ethan says and start to pull his boxers back up only for you to quickly stop him. your next words blows him away (pun intended) “I want to suck on it.” you say without thinking. “w-well you’re more than welcome to- AUH.” he didn’t have to tell you twice, your lips wrap around his head, sucking hard as your tongue flicks over his weeping slit. “oh god, you’re so good at that.” he groaned as you smirk up at him, before your head bobs down
“fuck that’s amazing.” he whimpers as the sounds of your mouth and spit clashing together fills the dorm room, thank god his roommate was away. “please don’t try to- shit- take it all.” ethan pleads. you then pulled away to let him know you were going to deepthroat him and of course he insisted that you shouldn’t. “it’s okay you don’t have t- SHIT.” you cut him off by pushing your head all the way down until your nose nestled against the light brown bush at his pelvis. his whimpers and moans increases every two seconds.
“f-fuck i can feel the back of your throat.” he grunts. every once in a while he’ll let out fuck baby or take that cock. later on you went to the extreme of fucking your face which he really insisted on not doing because he didn’t want to hurt you but soon enough he complied. “fuck you like this, don’t you?” you hun in response, sending vibrations through his cock making him extra simulation. soon enough his moans turns into m’gonna cum’s but you instantly stopped.
ethan eyes shot open. “why’d you stop, I’ve always wanted to cum down someone’s throat before.” he huffs in frustration but you had a better idea. “I want to sit on it.” you say, boldly. “oh? well uhm- no it’s just too big, I’ve tried this before and it’s just too big.” he says but you were already in the process of taking your pants off. “awe no don’t take your pants off, this is a bad idea but..” he trails off once he sees you bra. “well I guess you can try but s’just- just too bi- gosh you’re so wet.” you we’re fully naked next to him. “um before we start, can I just play with your pussy first?” he says softly while staring at you. you were sitting next to him with you legs apart, slightly leaned against the couch all comfortable.
“here- why don’t I just stroke my cock while I..” he trailes off to slide his his head down your stomach and onto your swelling clit. “you like that?” he says after hearing your whimpers followed with a nod. “I uh had to get good this- playing with the clit, swirling, flicking, rubbing so just uh lay your head on my shoulder.” he says and you complied, laying your head on his shoulder while he stroked his cock and play with your clit at the same time. soon enough he begins to slip a finger inside, saying how good it feels. “are you getting close? would two fingers help?” you instantly nod before his begins to slide another finger in but you needed more. “more please.” you whimpered.
“uhm you can try to get on it but I don’t th- FUCK.” you straddled him and guided his cock to you soggy cunt, pressing him in. you pussy sucks him in inch by inch. “just tell me if it’s too mu- holy shit it’s going all the way in fuck.” he watches as your pussy takes him whole and bottoms out. he babbles about how amazing you are as you start bouncing on him with a visible bulge poking out your belly. sounds of skin and fluids slapping together fills the room as your tits bounced in his face. his hands comes around to grab your ass and hips like he’s guiding you. “gosh you’re so beautiful- fuck.” he says before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
“yes yes yes fuck!” you yelped but still being mindful that you’re in a dorm. suddenly you feel ethan stop you. “wait wait, can we do it doggy, I want to see my dick going in and out of you.” his filthy words made your pussy clench making him wince. you gave him the okay and he turned you around on the couch. he aligned himself back to your pussy before pushing it in. “fuck you’re amazing.” he mumbled underneath his breath as he bottoms out. he grabbed your hips to start thrusting and you were close again. “fuck are you close again? please cum.” he pleads, bringing his hand around to play your clit to simulate you more. “shit ethan fuck!” you yell into the couch pillow which was muffling most of your cries. after a couple of good, pounding thrust a wave of ecstasy washes over you as ethan walks you through your orgasm with his along the way.
“fuck I’m close.” three words he thought he would never say with a girl. after two thrusts he cums in you, cum painting your walls. “I came in you, is that okay?” he says whilst trying to catch his breath. you couldn’t speak so you mumbled an uh uh of approval. he then turns you around and pulls you in a long awaited kiss with his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.
“be mine.” he whispered in you ear. you grinned.
-
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Text
I Know it Won’t Work || Tom Blyth x singer!reader
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Summary: You and Tom break up after three years of dating and you perform a song about the truth of the breakup for the first time live.
Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 23 and Tom is 30
Wc: 658
A/n: these r addicting to make lol. Also, changed up some lyrics for the sake of the storyline making sense. 2/4? Fics I’m posting today!
Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist
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Divider by @pommecita
You let out a shaky breath, "I left you here, heard you keep the extra closet empty," You sing the first words of your unreleased song to the crowd. "In case this year, I come back and stay throughout my twenties, what if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently?" You had just freshly turned 23 and broken up with Tom.
You honestly don't know how you ended up here, in-front of a crowd of hundreds in London. Performing in front of people was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment but you had to keep a strong front for your supporters, this show was highly anticipated.
"I've had the thought, tried to work it out through anxious pacin'" Your biggest coping mechanism was writing songs. You never knew how to really express your emotions in sentences to someone, so instead, you write them into songs. Your real feelings and emotions laced into words that in the end, formed a song.
"But it's a lot, all the shine of three happy years fadin'" The crowd watched in silence, partly because it was a new song and they did not know the lyrics to sing along, but also because they were mesmerised. Your voice held so much emotion.
Your fans weren't aware that the two of you have broken up, but a few had already pieced it up. "The whole facade, seemed to fall apart, it's complicated." Everyone viewed you and Tom as the power couple, deeply in love with one another with no flaw or doubt in the relationship
While half of it was true, the other half wasn't. The seven year age gap different had been brought up so many times throughout your relationship. You remember the first time the two of you got together, you were 20 and he was 27.
You both received heavy backlash from the internet but the two of you ignored them all. They weren't the ones in the relationship, they weren't the ones to make the call about whether or not you should be together.
"And part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, I hate to look at your face and know that we're feelin' different," As the three years went by, uou hoped you weren't the only one in the relationship that doubted a few things. You didn’t want to admit that other people's comments were getting to you. As the three years progressed with Tom, you felt as if you were just both in such different phases of life.
You were still so young in your early twenties and fresh in your career while it seemed that Tom was ready to settle down, marry, and start a family. He would always mention starting a family and you would listen, not really knowing what to say to him.
But recently, you came into terms with the truth that both you and Tom don't share the same feelings or goals at the moment. "Cause part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" You loved Tom, parts of you still do. He never did anything wrong, he was everything you could have ever wished for. You like to think of him as the right person, wrong time.
But nothing was going to change the fact that you two were just in different stages of life. Nothing will change the seven year age gap between the two of you. "I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'"
Tom hasn't left your mind. It would've been easier if he did. But he just couldn't. "And part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" Your voice slightly cracks, a single tear drop runs down your face. Eyes closed, you let it. The dewy stream your tear left—accentuated with the bright lights focused on you—did not go unnoticed.
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zweiginator · 1 month
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I just want patrick to be so disgusting with me, spitting in my face, rubbing his dick and balls all over my face. calling me his nasty little cockwhore, would be such an honor 😭
being a little goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong. you've had a couple of boyfriends but you never did anything more than make out with them, maybe give them a half-assed handjob when they begged for it.
you meet patrick and something inside you switches on. this carnal need to please him and to be pleased. you had never felt horny in the traditional sense until you met him. never felt the need to squeeze your legs together and beg for more, more, more.
there's something about patrick. his smirks and body language. how he towers over you and commands the attention of the room. it makes you need that attention all for yourself.
and you get it--patrick thinks you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. but he knows your reputation. he says it's a shame. he could really show you a good time.
so you find yourself being degraded by him. you find yourself liking it. getting a little tipsy at a party that he's at and tapping on his shoulder. he's talking to another girl but she's quickly forgotten and patrick asks what you're doing there. you're not a party girl. and don't you have a boyfriend?
but you shake your head. no, you don't. you just broke up with him. patrick smiles. it's conniving. the way he looks at you sends shockwaves up your spine, down to your core.
you hang off each other all night. your lips are close to touching, his hands fall on your waist.
you look up at him with one goal in mind.
"please take me home."
patrick thumbs over your jaw. he realizes you don't want to go home, you want to go wherever he's going.
he parked down the street. he can't drive you anywhere but he'll usher you into the backseat. it's heavy breathing and even heavier petting. patrick yanks you onto his lap. he asks you what changed, why you're being easy now.
and you just shrug. your boyfriends didn't do it for you. didn't turn you on. you say it so matter-of-factly. patrick wants to defile you.
his hands snake up your shirt and play with your tits. your nipples are sensitive and your head rolls back as he rucks your shirt up to suck on you. he's drooling. pawing and kneading your skin so hard it's on the verge of hurting but it's patrick.
you rut against his cock; it's rock hard. his hand yanks yours down to feel him, and he catches your lips with his. hot kisses, sloppy and needy. the kind that are disgusting and perverted. the kind you would never let your boyfriend give you. patrick tilts your head back and parts your lips with his thumb. he drops a glob of spit into your mouth. it triggers something in you, how he's treating you. so gentle yet firm. bordering on disrespectful. but you'd let him do it all.
it's how you end up on your knees. patrick pushed the passenger seat down and he's reveling in how you drool for him. he strokes his cock over your face, over your mouth. he's heavy, he's red. his balls are taut and he wants to cum. he feels like he might, because he tells you to be a good fucking slut and kiss him. lick him. worship him.
you do. and you let him shove his cock into your mouth, pushing it against your cheek. you let him slap it over your face, the precum dribbling on your cheek as you kiss the base of his shaft down to the sensitive seam of his sack. you want him to fuck you but he won't. not yet. he wants to prolong this. he wants you aching for him. you already are, but once he's done with you--you won't be able to fucking take it anymore.
as you suck on his balls, you blink up at him and he grabs your jaw forcefully. you draw in a breath, almost suffocated by him. and just to rub it in, how much power he has over you, he spits on your face.
"dirty fucking girl."
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marthawrites · 1 year
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"don't shut me out. please"
I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼
Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!
Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning
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Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader
Word Count: 6.3k+
About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.
Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex
Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!
read part 2 Between the Covers here
-
I.
There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.
First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)
Second, have a dog. 
They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.
While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.
Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.
“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.
“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.
He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!
You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.
“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”
“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.
“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”
You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”
“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”
“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.
“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.
Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 
Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 
Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.
Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.
Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”
Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.
“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”
“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.
He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”
You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.
II.
You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 
Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 
Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:
Someone missed you tonight! 
While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:
Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.
Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:
Yup! See you then?
And he sent:
I’ll find another excuse to be there. 
Feeling a little bold, you replied:
Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?
When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:
Maybe so. See you Monday.
Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 
During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.
You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.
III.
“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.
Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”
“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.
“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.
“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”
If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”
The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”
If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.
“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.
She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.
Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”
Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 
It was haunting.
Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.
Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.
Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 
When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.
Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 
Aemond. 
Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”
“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.
Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”
“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.
“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”
Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”
“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.
“Alright then. Let’s do it.”
IV.
It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!
Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 
The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.
A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.
Love.
Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.
If he felt the same he’d say something, right?
Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.
And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 
"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 
Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 
As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.
Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.
It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 
Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.
But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.
Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 
You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.
"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.
That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"
And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.
There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 
"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"
"I have no idea why she sent–"
" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.
"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"
" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."
He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.
You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."
He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.
He shut your door with a deliberate click.
You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 
Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.
Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.
V.
The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.
The only thing you said to him was a single text:
I need time. Please understand
Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.
Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.
Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.
VI.
The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.
Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.
A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.
After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!
On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.
"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.
"Hi," you said.
"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"
Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."
He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 
You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?
"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.
I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.
You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.
"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.
"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.
He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.
Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 
Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"
He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.
You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.
One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 
He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.
Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.
You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.
"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.
“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 
He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”
“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.
The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”
Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”
He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.
You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 
Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.
Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 
When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.
He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."
With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."
Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"
You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.
Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 
He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.
Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 
His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.
"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.
"You'll get no argument from me," he said.
Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.
All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.
"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."
"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"
You smirked. "I'm suggesting."
Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 
Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"
A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"
You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."
"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."
You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.
Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥
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Masterlist
Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess
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blueeyedgirll · 4 months
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Sneaking In - Sal Fisher x F!Reader
a/n: this is something i literally think about constantly :)> sneaking out was sal’s idea not yours there’s no delinquency here. unfortunately this is NOT part two of he’d loooove that because to be transparent i don’t know where to go with it! i promise i started it though it’ll come out soon •3•
this fic includes: boyfriend sneaking in trope, rebellion, sal ITCHING to see you, no use of y/n, for some reason you don’t have a screen on your window but whatever, established relationship, smooching, cuddling
The dark, late night sprawls outside as the twinkle of fairy lights keeps you awake. The chatter from the movie you were watching keeps your ears occupied as you consider texting or calling someone to ease the boredom overtaking you.
You settle on your boyfriend, Sal.
You and Sal had been dating for almost a year and a half. You started dating in the beginning of freshman year, and are still together now, halfway through sophomore year. Dating Sal had been nothing short of wonderful. He has always been such a kind and loving person, and it shows in your relationship. You and Sal are the kind of couple that people call “goals,” or talk about because they “need a relationship like that.”
You pick up your phone to text Sal, but upon reaching his contact, you decide to call him instead.
The line rings once, twice, and then he picks up.
“Hey, love. Are you alright? Why are you calling so late?” He says as less of a question for his sake and more to make sure you were okay.
“Yeah, I just missed you,” You respond.
“Well, I miss you too. I’m glad you called.” Sal pauses for a moment and you hear shuffling.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to move Gizmo off my bed so I can lie down.”
You laugh at the thought of Sal trying his hardest to gently move his very large cat off the bed.
“Just pick him up,” You say, realizing that it’s in his nature to be gentle so he likely wouldn’t.
“No, he’s comfortable.” You hear him scoff in frustration and the thunk of him hitting the bed. “I give up.”
You laugh and change the subject.
“Well, what were you doing before you decided to evacuate Gizmo?”
“Honestly… I was trying to study for my history test, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. It was really hard to try to remember what years the American Revolution took place when the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen kept crossing my mind.”
His sudden compliment made you smile.
“Why, thank you. Luckily I wasn’t doing anything productive, because I promise you I would’ve been in the same boat…” You think for a moment. You both really miss each other, so why not make plans for the weekend?
“Sal, I want to see you. Want to hang out tomorrow?”
He pauses before he answers.
“Why wait?”
“What?”
“Why wait until tomorrow? I miss you now.”
You consider his point. You missed him now, too. But the thorough punishment that awaited you if your parents found out hung over you like a storm cloud.
“Sal, my parents will kill me if I sneak out.”
“Then let me.”
“My parents will also kill me if they catch me sneaking my boyfriend in my room in the dead of night. Can’t you hear how bad that sounds?”
“That’s why they won’t catch me. Please, baby? I can be sneaky, I promise.”
You pause for a moment.
You consider.
You decide the reward outweighs the consequences.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then?”
You can hear him silently cheer. “Yes you will. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The phone beeps after the call ends. A rush of adrenaline and emotions flows through you as it fully processes that you’re sneaking your boyfriend in, but the risk just made it that much more fun.
A few minutes pass that consist of you switching between pacing your room and tidying up. You realize that Sal needs to get in somehow, so you turn to leave your room and unlock the back door. Before you could leave, however, you hear a tap on the window.
You throw open your curtains and it is none other than Sal. His electric blue hair illuminated by the moonlight, he stares up at you, eyes visibly crinkled through the eyeholes in his mask.
You open the window to let him in. He smiles up at you and hoists himself onto your windowsill before jumping silently onto your floor. He stops to look around for a moment, then pulls you into his arms.
“We have a door, you know,” You say teasingly.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You smile at him and draw your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. You reach to the back of his head and unbuckle his mask, and he bows his head to let you.
You pull the mask off of his scarred face and he looks at you longingly with his bright blue lovesick eyes. Before either of you can speak, you both lean into a kiss. His lips meet yours in a unification powerful enough to make your knees tremble. He wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you deeper into the kiss, allowing you to run your hands through his soft hair.
"Wasn't this worth it? And, hey, I bet your parents are still sound asleep. They don't have a clue!" Sal drags out the last few words of his sentence in an excited whisper.
"Yeah, it was. Thank you for coming over."
"No problem. I missed you and it made me really want to see you."
"I can tell."
He smiles at your comment and moves to sit on your bed. You set his mask on your bedside table and follow his lead by propping yourself up on the headboard, patting the spot beside you to urge him over. He sits right next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He's so close that you can feel how warm he is through his sweater and smell his body wash.
He turns his head to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and fit your head into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, listening to his heart steadily beating.
"I love you," Sal whispers. "I love you, too."
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quillpokebiology · 2 months
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You mentioned a couple of times Bisharp and Gallade pair well, do you have any facts or pic on this crossbreed? :0
Yup! Here is one with a Bisharp father!
Pokemon Crossbreeds: Knight
Knight is the name for members of the Gardevoir line whose father's were members of the Bisharp line. The breed was named after their more armored and knight-like appearance. They've been bred by humans for a long time, as both Bisharp and Gardevoir have been by humans for centuries.
Ralts
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Knight Ralts gain larger and sharper horns, a split-colored head that has a slightly metallic texture, and a mark on their chest that resembles a chest-plate. Due to the larger and sharper horn, these ralts are able to pick up on emotions easier, which can be overwhelming for them. These ralts are more defensive and aggressive than standard ralts.
Kirlia
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Knight Kirlia no longer have flaps of skin resembling a skirt, instead, having fat wrap around their legs which look like pants. They have broader shoulders, sharper horns, and a darker stomach resembling a chestplate. It still follows the defensiveness and aggression of Bisharp, and they are often seen leading packs of Knight Ralts.
Gardevoir
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My personal favorite of this line. Knight Gardevoir gain a sharp horn on their head, a green top, green gloves, and a bit longer hair. Knight Gardevoir have been loved for centuries for their mastery over battle and their more serious and knowing disposition. They lead groups of Knight Ralts and Kirlia. Some ancient kings in Galar had a Knight Gardevoir. Mega Knight Gardevoir gain long hair and longer ears, resembling Kingambit more than regular Knight Gardevoir.
Gallade
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Knight Gallade gain the crest of Bisharp, border shoulders, extra blades on their arms, and larger hips. Not much changes behaviour wise, as Gallade are already aggressive and noble pokemon, but many battlers love this breed for their extra blades and extra defense. Mega Knight Gallade gain longer ears and a black cape, resembling the hair of Kingambit.
//My designs can be used by anyone if you credit me! Talking about designs under the cut
I had the idea for this crossbreed but I put it in the back of my mind bcuz there was always something new ig.
Ralts was pretty easy to design. It's hair already looks like a helmet, so I just made it look more like Pawniard's helmet. Was gonna leave the helmet primary colored, but then I went hack and gave it two color to match Pawniard's more.
Kirlia was more difficult bcuz it and Bisharp don't have much in common, so I instead just made it more serious looking and gave it the traits I could; like feet, hands, shoulders, and a chestplate.
I traced an old Gardevoir crossbreed I made bcuz I prefer the one I made over the canon one (for tracing at least. Also, its called Chantelaines Gardevoir!). But my main goal was to make it look a bit like those Warrior queens you see. For both Gardevoir and Gallade, I primarily used Bisharp as inspo because it felt right, but I did put Kingambit in there top (the sword mustache becoming long ears, the triangle shaped shoulders, and the markings on the shoulders).
I gave Mega Gardevoir longer hair to match Kingambit's. I also traced an older piece, which was traced from canon, but I just used it for the small edits I made when I made it.
Gallade was nice, and lowkey inspired by Roman Gladiators. Random fact, but did you know gladiators rarely ever killed? It was like wrestling back then, so it would be expensive to have them die, and extreme violence in Gladiator fights was frowned on. There were some cases where murder in gladiator fights were encouraged, but not as many as you'd think. Anyways! I was so happy to fix Gallade's hip wheel bcuz while Gallade may be one of my fav pokemon and I think the hip wheel is a furled up dress, I can still find it weird.
Not much changes with mega gallade, and I kept the OG color scheme. Though, the cap was hard to color since I kept swapping from blue to green to black. Eventually I decided on black to match with Kingambit's hair since it already didn't have a lot of Kingambit traits.
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 8 months
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My dear lgbt+ kids, 
So, you have been in a relationship for a while and you’re ready and eager to take the next step - but your partner isn’t. What now? 
The “next step” I’m referring to here could mean a lot of different things because relationships do not all follow one specific timeline (and also because my readers may be of wildly different ages and live in wildly different situations) but I am thinking of any “deepening our commitment” things here: for example introducing them to your friends or your family, moving in together or (if you are in a situation where that’s a legal possibility) even marriage or having a child together. 
Whatever the step actually looks like, you may have this romantic idea of “If they’re right for you, you’ll always naturally want to take these steps at the same time”… but that’s not really how relationships work in real life. Even in the healthiest relationship and even if you absolutely feel like they’re your soulmate, you may still disagree on when to take those steps or even on whether you want to take these steps at all. 
In fact, it’s uniquely frustrating if everything else is going well. If their refusal to meet your mom is just another point on the long list of behaviors that make you feel like they don’t really care about you, that’s also painful but it’s easier to give advice there: maybe you should think about breaking up. It’s tempting to believe that you can make them love you more if you move in with them or that they’ll treat you better once you get engaged, but that won’t work out. You can’t fix a broken relationship by deepening the commitment - commitment needs a stable foundation to grow. And this doesn’t only go for outright abusive relationships: they may be a wonderful person but you two just have entirely different goals and needs, and those won’t suddenly overlap more just because you moved in with them or married them. 
With all that being said: if there IS a healthy and stable foundation, if you are happy in every other aspect and they’re just hesitant about this one specific step, then jumping straight to “break up with them” would obviously be pretty unhelpful advice. Differing opinions occur even in the most compatible couple, you are both whole people with your own individual feelings and those do not necessarily doom the whole relationship. It’s important to see this situation in the context of the relationship in general. 
You may be able to guess that a big portion of the advice is just gonna be “Communicate with your partner” - but first of all, I’d advise you to have an open and honest conversation with yourself. Why is this step of commitment so important to you? What does it mean to you? Do you feel a sense of urgency in taking it and if so, why? Is this specific step the only possible path for your need to be met? Are you open to alternative approaches, are you open to waiting (and if so, for how long)? The purpose of these questions is definitely not to convince yourself to give up on your needs or to talk yourself into a compromise you’re not really happy with! The opposite of that, actually: It’s helpful to reflect on what exactly you want and why you want it, so you have the clarity you need to discuss it productively. You don’t want to agree to something that ultimately leaves you unsatisfied and bitter, but you also don’t want to push hard for something you later on realize doesn’t even mean that much to you. 
When you feel confident enough about your own stance to discuss it with your partner, the most important thing to remember is: you’re on the same team. The goal here isn’t to “win” or to change their mind, but to see each others perspective better and find a solution you’re both happy with. Listen with an open mind. Try to understand before you try to influence. Remind yourself that your partner isn’t your enemy, they also want the best outcome for both of you - otherwise you (hopefully) wouldn’t want to commit to them! 
Something you should get clarification on during your conversations: is it a hard no (do not want to do that at all ever), a soft no (open to alternatives or adjustments), a no for now (want to do it but not yet), a yes but (want to do it but only under certain circumstances or in a different way than your original plan) or a I don’t know? How does this affect your feelings on the situation? (I’m sure that even just while reading these different scenarios, some instinctively feel better or worse than others! But it’s still important to take some time to sit with any new information that comes up during those conversations. Neither of you should feel pressured or rushed here!) 
You may find that they just never considered that there may be multiple approaches to that step (an example for this would be that they are not actually opposed to the idea of being married to you, just to the idea of a wedding, and didn’t consider yet that eloping is also a possibility) - but don’t set yourself up for disappointment by expecting the conversation to 100% go that way. It may also be a hard no, and that wouldn’t make them a horrible person. People can deeply, truly love someone and still do not want to take certain steps with them. It’s a good idea to remind yourself that you’re not “in the right” or “the better person” for wanting to take those steps. While certain steps may be a big part of your own future plans or even of your identity and self-image (and that’s valid!), they are just personal preferences. It’s not a moral obligation to want them, and your partner isn’t mean for not wanting them. But, of course, at this point we also need to say: if you can not imagine a life where you never get married, you are not a horrible person for breaking up with a partner who can not imagine to ever marry. “Irreconcilable differences” are a common breakup reason for a reason. 
So, to summarize: Building a strong foundation is crucial before taking big steps. Communicate openly with yourself first - understand why you want to take this step and if there are alternatives. When talking to your partner, remember you're a team; it's not about winning but understanding each other. Be open to different responses, from a clear no to conditions on a yes. Do not pressure your partner but do not completely give up on your own happiness either. 
The journey of commitment should be a shared adventure - not a battle or a competitive race! 
With all my love, 
Your Tumblr Dad 
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jewishvitya · 9 months
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Saw an interview with the Israeli ambassador in the UK where she openly rejects the idea of a Palestinian state at all. Including in a two-states scenario. Which, I knew this is the position of our government, Netanyahu was recently trying to push the "I'm the only one who can prevent a Palestinian state," but she was unusually open and explicit about it for an international interview.
And I didn't realize it at first (because I'm awful with faces... and names) but that's Tzipi Hotoveli. She's so right-wing that she was a popular name in the settlements when I lived there. And this is something I can say about many politicians currently running the government, they are the names that aligned politically with the most extremist community. And this is why she's so bad at being diplomatic about it - the people with that mentality rarely care about watering down their goals.
A mutual of mine on a different platform, an American anti-zionist Jew, talked about a trip they took to the West Bank. It was organized to show the occupation, the checkpoints, etc. Someone asked in response if they visited settlements too, and said that he was glad they enjoyed the trip, but it seems to be all one color.
This was a weird comment. What can you see in the settlements to change your mind, if you care about human rights. What can you see that would erase the suffering of Palestinians there, or give context to justify it. Even if settlers knew to say all the right words, this shouldn't be enough to make you forget what Palestinians are living through.
But they don't say the right words. Especially there, the people openly dehumanize Palestinians. And if you talk to them for a while, they will do it to your face. And they will be open about wanting no Palestinians living on any part of the land. Israeli Arabs are often seen as a different story, as long as they accept Israeli sovereignty. Still not fully trusted, though.
I saw someone confusing the electric fence I mentioned in a few posts, with the separation fence, which is the wall around the West Bank. Not the same thing.
The separation fence is built within the territory of the West Bank, but it's a large wall all around that cuts them off from other areas of the land.
The electric fence is smaller, and it's specific. The one I'm referring to is in Kiryat Arba, near Hebron. That's the settlement I grew up in. It's one of the more established settlements, and it's basically a small town. Right behind the apartment building I lived in, there was the electric fence. And in a distance of maybe a couple of traffic lanes past the fence, were Palestinian homes. They could see us, we could see them.
The fence was there for our sake, not for the Palestinians. But sometimes the settlers would tear it down, forcing the border police and the military to guard that spot and rebuild it. I wondered why, because a hole in the fence near my home scared me. And then I learned they were protesting against the feeling that they're being contained. The settlers, with how they're constantly expanding, felt that they're not given enough. Settlers treat "we can't expand as fast as we'd like" as if that's oppression.
They would regularly get into conflicts with border police and with the military over this. They'd go out to claim another hill, and their temporary homes would get torn down. Individuals from the West Bank settlements would have the Shin Bet keeping track of them in case they'll do something that could provoke an escalation of violence. And this isn't to claim that Israel was being fair to Palestinians or protecting their interests. It just means that Israel tried to be strategic to an extent, and the settlers are inflammatory. Their stated goal, openly talked about, is to establish a presence on the ground, so that any agreement that gives land to Palestinians won't be possible. I kept hearing sentences like "not even a square centimeter." Meaning that they want to leave nothing for Palestinians. They aren't trying to think about what Israel can get away with, they feel entitled to everything.
And these are the people that the current Israeli government aligns with. Which puts a lot of things out in the open, and pushes a lot of other things into further extremes.
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gavisfanta · 7 months
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THE NEWSPAPER - PEDRI
summary: you let the hate get to you
warnings: none
Breakups can be bitter.
Walking past a person you used to hug, kiss, and touch freely, is a surreal feeling.
Suddenly what was once natural is now weird. If Pedri would walk over to you now and kiss your forehead, everyone would look at him like he's insane.
5 months ago, he walked over to you, kissed you on your lips and everyone would look at the two of you.
"How sweet they are" Some people would say. They were jealous and their only goal was to make you two break up.
Some of them loved your relationship, some of them didn't.
You didn't care much about what the media said,
or did you?
3 months earlier
"She's my girlfriend and I'm happy that she's here and I don't have to hide her anymore." Pedri said as he looked at the interviewer in front of him.
"Will she always come to support you or was this just a one-time thing to show her off?" The interviewer asked him again and he laughed a bit while he scratched his jawline.
"She supports me from home too, not only from here, I have a better feeling already when I know that she thinks of me. It wasn't just a one-time thing tho." Pedri answered again and the interviewer nodded her head.
"Gracias Pedri, have a nice night." She said and Pedri nodded his head as he flashed her a smile.
You looked at him while your whole face was covered in a wide grin. "You're so sweet." You opened up your arms for him and he walked into them. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer.
"Gotta take every opportunity to show off my amazing girlfriend no?" Pedri asked as he pulled away to look at you and then leaned in for a kiss.
"You're right, now go change so we can go home." Pedri laughed as soon as you pushed him towards the tunnel.
"That was sweet, I've never seen him like this." Sira came over to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
"Really?" You asked, not really wanting to believe her. It was too good to be true.
"Yeah, he's a completely different person ever since, it's incredible," Sira said fascinated, the two of you began walking towards the exit as the stadium started to get empty.
As you waited for Pedri patiently in your car, you were scrolling through instagram until you saw a post from the spanish newspaper.
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"Hey, I'm sorry I took so long, I just had to talk to Luis-" Pedri began as he sat into the car but then stopped immediately after he saw how focused you were on your phone.
"What are you reading?" He snatched the phone away from you and you tried to grab it but he held you back.
After he read everything he immediately blockdd the account from your phone. "Don't read this shit, you know they'll use everything against me and you. But I love you you're no distraction to me, remember that, I love you." Pedri gave you back your phone and leaned closer to you.
"Yeah, don't worry about it, I don't care." You mumbled and he gave you a reassuring look before leaning in to kiss you.
The kiss was long and passionate and for a moment you forgot what you just read 20 seconds ago.
Pedri had that magic where he'd make you forget things that were on your mind. He had that special aura which you could feel even if you just looked at him.
His presence was noticeable in every room he stepped foot in. He showed you what true love really is and how it feels like.
In the end you knew that you loved to love him.
For Pedri it was the same, he adored every single thing you did. When you'd fall asleep first he'd stay up for hours just watching you sleep.
Every single detail about you when you sleep is engraved into his brain. The way your breathing slows down, the way your eyes twitch sometimes, and the way you move when you're uncomfortable.
However, it didn't stop, that wasn't the only article written about you, Pedri always told you: "It's the press, they'll find something else in a couple of days, don't worry" But it didn't stop.
"Pedri's girlfriend is a bad influence for his playing style"
"Could the youngster be too distracted to play football?"
"Teenage love for footballers is the most dangerous thing."
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You tried so hard to ignore everything but it just seemed to follow you, when you scrolled on instagram, trying to take your mind off of some things, it was there.
"Pedri's girlfriend" Without anyone really knowing you, they judged you. After spain has been eliminated from the world cup the noise just calmed down a bit. That was until you posted on your Instagram to let everyone know that you supported Pedri and will forever support him.
The comments were filled with hate and accusations towards you, that it was your fault that Pedri wasn't playing at his top level.
Pedri spoke about it with Xavi and he reassured his coach that he wasn't distracted. "Just stay calm, it'll pass." Pedri hugged you and you shook your head.
"It has been going on for two months. Why would people accuse me of something I never even spoke about?" You asked him, at this point tears in your eyes.
You didn't understand why people were hating you.
You then looked at a tiktok from a fan of Pedri and read the comments below it. "If I was her, I'd break up with him, no way that she's getting this much hate for being in love."
You turned off your phone and stared into the nothingness for 5 minutes after you read that. If you would break up with him, you'd be free from the press, it wouldn't be your fault anymore if Pedri made a bad pass.
So the following day when Pedri came home from an away game you sat down with him.
"Pedri, we need to talk." Pedris head shot up immediately and he looked at you, waiting patiently for you to speak up.
"I think it's better if we part ways." You told him, your hands shaking a bit as his eyes widen.
"Amor, How would that be better?" Pedri asked as he took your hand in his.
"It's just so overwhelming that everyone always blames me for every bad pass you make. It's like everyone waited for someone to blame." You told him and he looked at the floor, he seemed zoned out.
"I can talk to a reporter about it, that they should stop, I can make it stop. Just please don't-" You cut him off.
"No, don't, I don't want you to talk about it because then everyone would get mad at you, so just- let's just part ways. I can't do this any longer, I'm sorry seriously." You told him and he shook his head.
"No, we're gonna find a solution, please, Amor don't panic now, stay calm and we're gonna find a solution." Pedri held your hand in his and drew circles on the back of your hand.
"Pedri, I can't please, just- I don't want to." Your breathing started to speed up and he noticed. He immediately pulled you into a hug and then kisses your cheek.
"I wont let you break up with me, we're gonna find a solution. I promise." Pedri whispered in your ear and you felt your breathing calm down and your eyes stopped watering.
"Please, please find a solution."
3 days later
"It's really ashaming of what the press is doing, if I play a wrong pass are you gonna blame my girlfriend? How would she have anything to do with that? If I make a mistake it was because I kept looking at her? Whoever says that has never stepped foot into a filled stadium with people. You spin around and walk around so much that in the end you forget where the bench even is." Pedri inhaled sharply. "I'd just like to kindly request everyone to stop writing about my girlfriend. I take all responsibility for my bad playstyle the last few weeks and it's entirely my fault. Just please stop the messages because if you keep going, I wont respect you as a football fan. Thank you."
You smiled as you looked at your boyfriend stand up from the table and walk away from the press conference.
After all, he promised.
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got-pucks · 1 year
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sports betting gone right? || quinn hughes
summary: in which quinn hughes is completely infatuated with you and will do anything just to get more of you
warnings: none! :)
note: to the anon who requested this, i did make a slight change to your request, but i totally hope that you don’t mind :)
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Much to his dismay, Quinn had been in New Jersey to help his family with moving Luke into his apartment with Jack. Luke hadn't fully moved into New Jersey during the playoff season, as he wouldn't have been there for very long. The family thought the best option was to move the essentials such as a bed, nightstand, and some clothing at first and then whatever Luke felt he might need later on.
Quinn hadn’t seen the point in needing the whole family, especially with all the different moving companies that could have done all the work instead. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he would rather be anywhere else, frustrated with all the different directions being shouted at everyone. Quinn had always felt that he was pretty easygoing and was chill with most things, but even this was a lot for him.
After a few hours of bickering between the brothers and a couple of stern looks from Ellen, everything that Luke could have possibly needed for the upcoming season was moved into the apartment. The family decided to go to a local street fair to see the different vendors and food stalls that were there. 
As the family was walking up and down the street Quinn was looking anywhere but straight ahead. His mind was wandering, thinking about all the things he needed to do in preparation for the upcoming season. Next thing he knew he felt himself knocking into someone, causing him to grunt and fall straight onto his ass. 
Quinn could hear his brothers snickering about him being an idiot while heat rose to his face as he quickly tried to stand back up. As soon as he was back on his feet and facing the person he ran into, Quinn swore he almost fell over again, coming face to face with you, one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes on. He felt completely enamored by all your features wanting to take everything about you in.
“Don’t mind my brother,” he heard Jack say before he could even mumble out an apology, “he can be more than kind of a dumbass sometimes.” 
Quinn turned to give Jack a mouthful when he heard you laugh, “Oh Jack, don’t be so mean to your family. That's your brother you're talking about!” 
Quinn watched with his mouth agape as he saw you and Jack hugged each other. He introduced you to his family, explaining how you had met through a mutual friend during his rookie year. You had apparently helped Jack a lot, teaching him how to cook a few basic meals and survive on his own. 
Suddenly, Quinn felt himself pushing himself closer to you letting out an apology about how bad he felt for not paying attention and then quite literally running into you. You laughed even more at Quinn, making him think to himself that he could hear that sound forever. Not thinking much, Quinn blurts out an invitation to join his family while they walk around looking at the different vendors. Thankfully, you accepted the offer.
You and Quinn had spent that time hitting it off, which turns out that the two of you had many similar interests. By the end of the night, Quinn felt like he had known you for years. Feeling like he hadn't had enough of you, he had asked if he could take you to dinner sometime.
“You know, hockey players aren’t my type,” Quinn could feel his heart drop as the grin on your face grew, “but maybe I am willing to make an exception because I just think you’re way cute. The next time you’re in town to play a game against your brothers, and you score a goal, I’ll consider going on a date.” 
Suddenly, Quinn could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He mumbled quietly, “I mean yeah… I could possibly manage that.” 
“Okay well, that sounds perfect!” you exclaimed, then kissing Quinn on the cheek, which caused his face to get hot for one more time that night. 
After that night, all Quinn could think about was you and your little proposition. Eventually, that game came around. He made sure that Jack had gotten you tickets, even going as far as suggesting that you should sit with their parents during the game. 
He felt like a nervous wreck all before the game, wondering if he would even get the chance to score a goal just so he could get a date with the most beautiful human being he had ever met. However, those nerves were not needed, as he ended up getting a hat trick by the end of the game. Each goal scored he searched for your face in the stands to give you a little wink. Quinn had felt like a king that night, not only bringing in the win for his team but also the prospect of getting to take you on a date.
By the end of the night, you found yourself opening a text from an unknown number. 
Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from Jack. Anyways, about that date? :)
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eldritch-spouse · 28 days
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What if Vesper's queen was into Lacai as well? I'm maybe a bit too prideful or bashful to admit it if asked directly, but Lacai is just (chef's kiss). I might even get into trouble just to make Lacai correct me. Of course, this doesn't lessen the love or lust I'd have for Vesper, but I would certainly be sparing glances at the impcubus and be too embarrassed to admit it- that'd only make it worse, I'm into humiliation too- god. If Lacai wasn't into topping I'd even be entertained by walking him around on a leash while out with Vesper despite my preferences to be the one receiving. Lacai and Vesper together just do something to me. Idk.
[Idk if you meant romantically as well, but I'm assuming you did.]
The thing with Vesper is that, out of every Icon, he's the one more likely to accept polyamory. This only works, however, if he maintains a position of power in the dynamic. It certainly helps that you have your eyes set on someone so close to Vesper, his very own confidant and an imp he's been sexual with plenty of times in the past. This is easily accepted by Vesper.
Lacai swings with the flow, so to say. While some concubi will already have the intent to top or bottom, Lacai reads your first couple of reactions and decides what'll work best. So, if you turn away or stutter some sad excuse when mildly prodded about your unsubtle oogling, he'll definitely be more insistent and domineering. It definitely riles him up to have the Queen of Lust crawling for him, debased before a mere imp servant. Is it just that you already can't control yourself around your subjects or is little old Lacai your newest cunt-throb?
Vesper has little idea as to why you'd be timid about wanting to sleep with others. This is now your Kingdom, human inhibitions are worthless, because everyone wants you here. The King clearly understands that there is much tension between you and Lacai, but you don't act on it- And so it clicks, you have a little crush. Isn't that adorable? And kind of hot to him, frankly. Vesper thinks Lacai is worthy of sharing with, so he'll just start messing with you two now.
Vesper finds you eye-fucking the impcubus while he's tidying something in the room? Alright Lacai, undress now. No other orders, Vesper just has Lacai work naked for the rest of the day, watching you simmer with arousal quietly.
Lacai, help me bathe the Queen.
Lacai, prepare the Queen for tonight's games.
Lacai, entertain the Queen while I handle the visitors.
It just won't end.
If it takes you too long to squeal, he'll arrange things differently, targeting the impcubus rather than you. Because if you're still too shy -Oh, how cute- To admit your own desires, then he knows someone who isn't. The imp.
The King is a master at setting up the perfect scene, making things look "accidental", such as when you stumble on him torturously edging his head servant, as if Vesper's goal wasn't for you to witness it. Even if you're not brave enough to walk in and decide to loom by the edge of the doorframes like a true voyeur, the other two can feel you. Vesper's teasing taunts to his servant all revolve around you, debauched fantasies of you servicing Lacai, servicing them both. The toys he knows Lacai would enjoy using on you. Loudly exposing how much of a creep the imp is, that he watches you change, that he jerks off to the scent of your panties, that he wants to wake you up every morning with a cock stuffed in you to the hilt.
Finally, Vesper will rip a confession out of the imp and pretend that the already very evident information shocks him. Most importantly, he reacts positively. And that should give you more confidence, in the Icon's mind.
If not, and by then they're both quite frustrated with this game, both Vesper and Lacai will "bully" the truth out of you. There's no hiding any lust from the residents of the royal mansion, so they'll rejoice in flustering you half to death as they share all the moments they have caught you staring, all the times your fingers rubbed soothingly over your pussy from how soaked you were getting around the imp.
Say you love them, say you want them both, and the two will use you together, make your dirty little daydreams a reality.
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