#god this is so true and ive never been able to find the words for it
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scarlet-star-witch · 9 months ago
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The moon and his sun (Part IV)
Aemond Targaryen x female reader
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Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 11.5 K
Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
~~
The court was in a frenzy.
The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince. 
The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.
While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong. 
Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held. 
They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them. 
Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm. 
Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her. 
He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side. 
The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting. 
He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish. 
She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.
“Couldn’t stay away?”
“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”
“I was ready to marry you years ago.” 
She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed. 
“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace. 
He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband. 
The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess. 
She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 
Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan. 
“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.
“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning. 
To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter. 
A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest. 
She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married. 
The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward. 
Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening. 
Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears. 
“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room. 
The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded. 
She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.
“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before. 
Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret. 
She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment. 
With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter. 
She would not ruin her daughter’s big day. 
 Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.
All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame. 
All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught. 
~~
She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation. 
In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.
“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside. 
The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.
Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him. 
He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone. 
His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife. 
They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping. 
As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves. 
He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service. 
They only had eyes for each other. 
No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love. 
“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”
The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty. 
Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself. 
Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again. 
He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge. 
He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him. 
The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection. 
Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him. 
They could scarcely keep their hands from each other. 
During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it. 
His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife. 
He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word. 
When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him. 
He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.
“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her. 
The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly. 
They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives. 
Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning. 
He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing. 
He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence. 
After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing. 
The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it. 
As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 
“Mind if I cut in?” 
She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.
“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.
“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table. 
She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.
“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”
She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.
She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down. 
“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?” 
His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her. 
“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”
“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin. 
Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her. 
“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”
His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”
Aegon only smirked joyously.
“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”
“Aegon.”
The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.
She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok. 
He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband. 
“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare. 
“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity. 
He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment. 
“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial. 
The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.
“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.” 
He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love. 
“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.
Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.
~~
She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm. 
Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open. 
She turned her head, looking up at her husband.
Gods, she would never get over saying that.
He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met. 
Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.
“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her. 
“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?” 
Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark. 
“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status. 
She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.
He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks. 
Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds. 
His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat. 
He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering. 
“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile. 
His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room. 
His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her. 
He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have. 
“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.” 
She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.
“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter. 
He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability. 
His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch. 
He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted. 
She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him. 
He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight. 
“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath. 
“I would never do such a thing.” 
He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife. 
“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”
~~
Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other. 
Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face. 
It had to be seen to be believed. 
They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made. 
Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private. 
He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his. 
They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies. 
“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.
“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”
“I am not soft.”
She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter, 
“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”
Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for. 
“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause. 
She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.
“Your legs are not hurting are they?” 
Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.
He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again. 
He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state. 
It felt too good to be true. 
Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else. 
As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.
“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup. 
He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him. 
He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours. 
He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them. 
She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly. 
“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy. 
He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her. 
“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”
Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.  
“Is that something you want?” 
“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely. 
The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more. 
“You’re going to be a wonderful father.” 
Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her. 
So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms. 
~~
Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.
“What’s wrong?” 
She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand. 
“Everything’s fine, Darling.” 
“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer. 
“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”
“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry. 
She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester. 
“Would you mind giving us a moment?” 
The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper. 
She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news. 
“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern. 
“And?”
Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach. 
She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real. 
She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.
Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation. 
“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck. 
She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved. 
He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love. 
“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly. 
“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.” 
He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree. 
He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.
“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.” 
He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her. 
However, their peace didn’t last long. 
Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.
The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about. 
The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.
He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him. 
“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”
“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her. 
She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage. 
“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.
“No.”
His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night. 
A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated. 
With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain. 
It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it. 
Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back. 
He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before. 
She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options. 
She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long. 
As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath. 
She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb. 
Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch. 
“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled. 
“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him. 
Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time. 
His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.
“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”
Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day. 
“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”
“He?”
He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child. 
“It’s just a feeling.” 
She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect. 
Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head. 
“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.
“They’re happy tears.” 
He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her. 
That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her. 
His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving. 
Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her. 
“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.
He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end. 
Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure. 
“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high. 
“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.
“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”
His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her. 
His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes. 
He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins. 
“Again.” He commanded roughly. 
She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her. 
“I love you, more than anything.” 
Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers. 
She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation. 
“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed. 
“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze. 
By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind. 
He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights. 
Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes. 
Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards. 
The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them. 
He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.
He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon. 
His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation. 
They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it. 
“Husband.” 
Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side. 
“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”
She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”
He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard. 
“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.” 
He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look. 
“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”
The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed. 
Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant. 
“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm. 
His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger. 
She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all. 
She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar. 
~~
The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. 
Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man. 
He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life. 
As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea. 
She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure. 
Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other. 
Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family. 
“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews. 
He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment. 
“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with. 
“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.” 
He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation. 
“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.” 
She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.
“We don’t have to go.”
He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought. 
She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred. 
“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”
Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin. 
“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him. 
She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting. 
“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children. 
He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly. 
It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.
As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction. 
Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile. 
She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.
“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”
“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.” 
“You didn’t join him?”
She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile. 
“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly. 
Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily. 
“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” 
A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.
Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with. 
Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence. 
They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in. 
She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father. 
The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.
Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment. 
Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family. 
Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.
She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her. 
When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer. 
Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.
“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand. 
She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer. 
She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.
Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back. 
Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood. 
The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash. 
None of the choices seemed punishment enough. 
As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully. 
She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.
Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case. 
“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear. 
“What was so shocking?”
“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”
“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner. 
Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads. 
“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.” 
“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly. 
Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow. 
The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire. 
“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed. 
She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night. 
She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage. 
But it did not last long. 
She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away. 
She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.
“Final tribute.” 
Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand. 
“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”
She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold. 
“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”
She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews. 
“I dare you to say that again.”
“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”
She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table. 
Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her. 
“It’s alright.” She assured her. 
Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether. 
The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions. 
Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him. 
He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.
Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.
Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed. 
His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily. 
“Are you alright?”
He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating. 
Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of. 
“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.
“I won’t.” 
His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.
The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her. 
The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.
“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely. 
The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.
“What?”
The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face. 
“I don’t want you to see me like this.” 
It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight. 
But she refused to let him sink into his despair. 
He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately. 
He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch. 
“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side. 
“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”
His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented. 
“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”
His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage. 
She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.
“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”
He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit. 
“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.” 
With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew. 
He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly. 
She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her. 
As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly. 
She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long. 
~~
The girls are fightinggg
And the angst is coming xx
~~
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dollmulder · 6 months ago
Text
afternoon
pairing: fox mulder x fem!reader
word count: 7.8k
warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, oral (f recieving), fingering
other tags: it’s alluded to that mulder is trans
authors note: i originally posted this on ao3 under the same title and username (afternoon by dollmulder) if you’d rather read it there :) otherwise, enjoy!
p.s, as i stated on ao3 this is the first bit of writing i’ve done in some years now, and it’s also the first ever explicit smut scene ive written, so i apologize if it’s not that great as i really have no idea what im doing here and my skills are rather rusty. but i do hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
you stood in front of the stove that belonged to the kitchen of your small apartment. before you, a pink kettle was placed on the burner, while you patiently waited for the water inside to boil. it was midday, and for once neither you nor fox had any plans. typically, when one of you wasn’t tied up with work, the other one was. however, today was different, and you intended to take full advantage of it.
you may have wasted part of the day by sleeping in until the afternoon, but you couldn’t help it. fox was asleep in your bedroom still, and he looked so agonizingly beautiful while he slept. not that he didn’t when he was awake, because by god he did, but being able to lie in bed next to him, admiring him and listening to his heartbeat thrum in his chest was an experience like no other. the way his eyelashes rested upon his cheeks, and how he snuggled his face deeper into the pillow now and then.
you enjoyed moments of domesticity like that, even though they were somewhat fleeting. oftentimes the two of spent your time together at his apartment, and when you weren’t doing that, he was either at work or off chasing the paranormal. sometimes he would invite you on these excursions, and generally you would go if you weren’t busy with work yourself, but it seems this weekend he had nothing planned for once. it was as if all the stars were aligned to give you both this perfect day, and you were hoping to keep it that way.
you drummed your fingers against the wooden countertop, impatiently waiting as your thoughts drifted from weekends spent with fox to other mundane things, like going over your to-do list of errands for this weekend, laundry, dishes, shopping, etc. and you wondered how many of those things you were actually going to be able to check off. you decided though that for today, your list could wait. today was going to be a perfect day, you said to yourself, as if manifesting it to be true.
you watched the kettle for a moment longer but a watched pot never boils, and almost as if a meant to be a perfectly planned distraction, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and the soft thuds of fox’s feet making his way down the hall. you smiled to yourself, and turned around just in time to see him leaning in the archway, his hair looking scruffy and his face still wrought by sleep. he was wearing nothing but boxers that clung to him loosely, and you must say, even then in this disheveled state, he looked breathtaking.
“i was wondering where you went,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes and still trying to rid the slumber from his system. you felt your heart flutter at the way his voice was laced with sleepiness, before you sauntered over to him, his large hands immediately finding their way to your hips, like following a well traveled road. it was instinctive for him.
you reached up and placed a chaste kiss to his lips, cupping his face as you did so, your hands moving down so your thumbs could glide over his paltry amount of stubble. “miss me?”
“always.” he smiled at you and you smiled back, before reaching up to give him another quick peck on the cheek.
“well, good morning- er, afternoon i guess.”
fox hummed, and after a beat he asked, “is it really that late?” his eyes roved over your body, eyeing your outfit, and you squirmed under his gaze.
“i see the mystery of my missing t shirt’s been solved,” he remarked before you had a chance to respond to his previous question, not that it mattered. fox had realized his shirt was missing a little while ago and he had figured you’d borrowed it or that he had misplaced it, but now that he knew for sure, this was another mystery he could check off from his ever-growing list. he supposed he could’ve asked you about it before, but it was never a top priority to him compared to other unsolved cases that wracked his brain on the constant.
you pulled out of his grasp, swaying your way back over to the stove, as his hand outreached, wanting to hold you still. “i borrowed it the other day,” you said facing away from him, pretending to be watching the kettle and biting your lip, thinking. “i hope you don’t mind.” you knew that he didn’t. he loved when you wore his clothes, when you gave them back and your scent lingered interwoven in the fabric, as if he needed any more reasons to put off doing his laundry.
“do you want any tea?” you cut through his thoughts, asking over your shoulder while you still faced the stove, and he hummed in approval.
suddenly, a smirk befell your face as you walked over to the cabinets, standing on your tippy toes to reach for two mugs. your- his -shirt rode up slightly, but just enough to expose your light blue underwear and the way it hugged your curves. you stretched a little more than you needed to, making sure he got the vision.
he hummed, too focused on watching your little display, eyes focused on your movements as he spoke, voice still slightly gruff from sleep. “you know that i don’t mind,” he trailed off, returning to your prior conversation. he pulled his plump bottom lip into his mouth, “but i’d like if you at least told me first.”
you grabbed the two mugs, one of which being a dusty blue color, with darker blue dots and little white ghosts swirling all around it, and the other was a translucent pink, with a red and pink strawberry pattern encompassing it. you placed them on the counter and stopped being on your tippy toes, his shirt falling back into place covering you back up for now. it was an old shirt of his, one from his time at oxford, and it hung slack around your smaller frame.
“im telling you now aren’t i?” you turned around and found fox stepping towards you, his arms coming to wrap around your waist. this was another thing the two of you usually did at his apartment, which made sense of course, as you both spent lots of the time you had together there, but last night, after staying particularly late at his office, fox called and decided to crash at your place as it was less of a drive than going back to his own apartment, and of course because he missed being in your presence. you gave him a key a short while ago so he could do just that, and because you loved having him in your space too. you couldn’t quite explain it but it made your apartment feel more like a home whenever he was here. you wondered if he felt the same about you being at his apartment, and decided he probably did, seeing as your presence there did make it more homely. you remembered when you used to continuously pester him about using his bedroom for it’s intended purpose instead of a large cluttered storage space, and he teased you back asking what you meant by “intended purpose”. you told him he’d have to find out, and that he did when the next time you came over his bedroom was decluttered, ready and waiting.
a flush aroused on your cheeks as you continued to think, now about last night, where upon his arrival here, you had ushered him to bed while he sleepily rambled to you about whatever it was he was working on, probably things he wasn’t supposed to tell you. all you could remember was something about government conspiracies and alien abductions, which was the usual topic of his sleepy rambling. that, and talking about you. you loved to listen to his sleepy words and babbling, even if it didn’t always make much sense to you.
then you thought of later that night when you both were in bed, sleepy fingers fumbling, touching, teasing one another in the dark. the way his hands slithered up and around your bare chest as yours did the same, before dipping down below his boxers while your mouth swallowed up the sleepy whines and whimpers that mewled past his lips.
“more like showing me,” fox chuckled, bringing you back to the here and now, and your blush deepened at his remark. he then pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled, holding your left hand out to rest your palm against his chest. his skin was warm, much warmer than your cold fingers. as if to prove your point, he shivered a bit as your fingers delicately traced the two surgical scars across his chest.
“sorry,” you whispered, giggling and pulling your hand back to rest a finger on your bottom lip, doe eyes looking up at him, but just as suddenly as you did that, he grabbed your hand away and brought it to his own lips, kissing each of your dainty fingers. you smiled, going to take a step back but forgetting there was nothing but counter behind you. you were too enraptured by the moment to think about anything else, but just as soon as it happened it was over with.
“pretty,” he muttered to himself, before letting go and walking off towards presumably the bathroom, and you sighed into a smile, body still pressed to the counter behind you. he was such an interesting man, and you meant that in the best way possible. even from the very first moment you had met him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and all of his intricacies. he had enthralled you from the beginning, and you couldn’t help but to question what he saw in you, not in a strongly self deprecating sense, but in the way that you questioned how you could compare to someone like him.
you knew if you told him these thoughts he would simultaneously shut them down and reflect them back at you, wondering what he did to deserve you .
you then turned and reached up again, this time towards a different cabinet, your fingers sliding under the lip of the wooden door, pulling it open with a low creak. you were looking for your tea bags, and after a moment of shuffling between boxes you finally found the one you were searching for. grabbing the box of just plain black tea, you opened it carefully and plopped a teabag into each mug, before closing the box back up and stretching once more to put it back into the cupboard where it belonged, in perfect timing as the kettle began whistling.
finding your way over to the stove, you grabbed the kettle and turned off the burner, then stepping back over to the counter and pouring some water into each mug. you heard fox shuffling his way back into the kitchen and shortly after felt one of his hands grab your hips, the other brushing your hair to the side so he could kiss at your neck.
“grab the honey for me?” you asked him, leaning over and placing the kettle back onto the stove, and he groaned, not wanting to let you go, but nevertheless he did, returning a moment later, honey in hand, which he had retrieved from the nearby cupboard behind you both. you turned around and outstretched the ghost mug towards him. “i’ll trade you,” you said, doing just that, knowing he preferred his tea without any honey in it.
he smiled, taking the mug and blowing some of the steam away from it. “you gave me this mug on purpose didn’t you?” he questioned, already knowing the answer, he just wanted an excuse to hear your angelic voice once more.
“of course, spooky.”
normally, he didn’t care for when people called him that name, not that it necessarily angered him, it was more annoyance at best, but with you it was different. you used it as a term of endearment, and he loved it, along with every other pet name you would call him. you had a way of spinning things into a positive light, one of the many, many, things he adored about you.
you turned back around to face the counter, grabbing a nearby spoon and stirring the honey into your tea, while he sat his mug down and put the bear-shaped honey bottle back into its home where it belonged. he came back behind you again, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder.
“what’s the plan for the rest of today?” he asked, snaking his large hands under his oxford shirt so that they could rest upon the bare skin of your hips. he hooked his thumbs under the band of your underwear, just wanting to be able to feel the coolness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the way it’s softness complemented the somewhat calloused nature of his hands.
“whatever you want to do, monster boy,” another pet name. “it’s your day off after all.”
he hummed. “it’s yours too.”
you sat your mug down in front of you waiting for it to cool off some more as it wasn’t ready for you to take your first sip, and then you turned to face him. “we both know you’re busy with work much more often than i am. even when you’re not working, you’re working . so you choose. i’m just happy to spend time with you,” you stretched up to press a lingering kiss to his lips, “but if i do get a say, brush your teeth, you have morning breath.” you paused… “er, afternoon breath.” and he smiled at you before groaning in mock annoyance.
in return, you batted and fluttered your eyelashes at him. “please?” and he smiled once more. how could he not give in to what an angel asked of him?
“oh i suppose, anything for you, my dearest.” and then off he went again, back towards the bathroom. you always kept a spare toothbrush for him in a cup at the sink. it made you smile in the mornings to see it there, just a little hint of his existence in your life, along with all the other little things around your apartment. you’ve left your fair share of belongings at his apartment, probably more than he has here, and with that thought, you made a mental note to yourself to steal more of his clothes and other belongings to have around.
sliding the mugs to the side, you hopped up on the countertop, grabbing your own mug and blowing the steam away as you waited for him to come back. you gently took a first sip of your tea, cursing at yourself as it was still too hot for you, so you resumed blowing on it, and as you did, your mind drifted, thinking about what kind of adventures the day ahead of you might hold. who knows with what fox might have in mind, always conjuring up some new adventure to fill the boredom of the rest of the day with. you were perfectly content with just lounging around your apartment in your underwear all day, not particularly wanting to go out and about and do anything, so you hoped he wouldn’t suggest anything of that nature. you didn’t want to have to take his shirt off in order to change into something more appropriate for outside wear, as you enjoyed the way his scent lingered around you. although, you decided, while you don’t necessarily want to take his shirt off to change out of it, you wouldn’t oppose to taking it off for other reasons.
your mind drifted, envisioning your previous escapades, your mind conjuring up pictures of his hands roaming your body, your hands slipping underneath his boxers, feeling him, teasing him, palming him in a way he had rarely let others do. the way his mouth hung open, his hands clutching your shirt, the bedsheets, whatever they could grab ahold of. excitement stirred in your abdomen and you shifted your hips, squeezing your thighs together. your hands became his in your mind, as the vision shifted to how he teased you, holding you, kissing you, fingers dipping beneath your lace trim to slip inside of you, and you bit your lip feeling a familiar hunger starting to growl within you.
last night the two of you had fooled around a bit before he dozed off, but it was barely anything more than soft touches and sleepy kisses, hushed i missed you ’s and whispered i love you ’s. even if your fingers had curled underneath his boxers, it was mere teasing, and it left your body (and his) wanting more, but you were sleepy and you knew he was too. however, now that your body and mind were awake, your desire was too.
after a moment fox returned and found his way over to you once more, moving to stand between your legs, and even with you sitting on the countertop he was still a bit taller than you. his hands rested on your thighs as he leaned down to kiss you slowly. it was a passionate kiss, and even though your bottom lip still tingled a bit from burning it with the hot tea, you ignored it and focused on the new tingling sensation. there was nothing better than a gentle kiss from fox mulder himself, and you’d never trade up this opportunity for anything.
“what’s gotten you so bothered?” he asked with a smirk, pulling his lips away from yours and picking up on your flushed face and warm skin, and the neediness you kissed him back with. in response, you wrapped your legs around his torso to keep him there before saying anything. this moment now felt like home. having the man of your dreams, the man of your reality , standing before you, between your legs, looking at you with such adoration you’d think it was like you had gifted him the whole world. but you did, because to him, you were his whole world.
“just thinking about you,” you hummed, your mug off to the side, forgotten about for now as you reached your hands around so your fingers could twirl themselves in the bit of hair at the nape of his neck, and then you smiled as you pondered for only a second.
“of me?” he asked, smirking as you looked at him with such innocence, but a gleam of something else in your eyes. a look he knew all too well. “me how?”
“oh, you know.” you shrugged, playing coy.
“enlighten me.”
“well, i do have an idea for something we could do today.”
he leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth, speaking lowly, as his lips moved their way around to your neck. you tilted your head to give him more access, and his breath tickled your skin as he spoke. “i thought you said i got to choose today's events?”
“would you rather do something else then?”
“you haven’t told me your idea yet.”
“i thought you liked solving mysteries.”
the way his mouth moved against your neck, you began to feel butterflies invading your stomach, sinking further down below, and you felt one of his hands slide from your hips to the expanse of your thighs, to the space in between, and you gasped at the sensation. his fingerstips delicately traced over you, nothing separating the two of you except for the thin cotton layer of your underwear, which had procured a small wet patch in the time being.
“something like this?”
you gasped, feeling his teeth scrape gently at your skin, followed by another pink flush rushing to your cheeks, and you felt him smile and chuckle against you, to which you smiled back.
“don’t laugh at me,” you breathed out as his fingers pulled away from you, sliding back up to hold your waist beneath his shirt, and the butterflies in your stomach began to flap their wings more vigorously. your mouth hung open, as his worked magically against your neck, and you couldn’t help but whine slightly as he pulled away, the only contact now being his hands holding you still, which on a regular day, you would never complain about, but you did desperately wish for his fingers back where they were moments ago, deeper, inside you . you shuffled your hips at the idea and a devious smirk swept across his face. “but uh, yeah i think you’ve got the idea now.”
he looked you over for a moment, his eyes holding sweetness like that of the honey in your now forgotten tea, and the softness of a prairie after a long night of rainfall. but there was something else lingering there too.
your hands, which had been holding onto the countertops edge for the time being, traveled their way back up to cupping his face once more, your thumb gently caressing over his bottom lip, plump and sheening with saliva. his breath was hot as he panted between parted lips.
“i love you,” you said before you could even register the words coming out of your mouth, and your face flushed again with subtle embarrassment. it was true of course, you did love him, you loved him like you needed air to breathe. your hand dropped from his face, down his neck, and rested languidly against his chest.
“what was that?” he asked, leaning down again to press sloppy kisses to your face, your neck and around your ear. his voice was low, and you sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth in anticipation. your fingers curled, scratching gently at his chest. “i couldn’t quite hear you from way up there.” and of course there it was, you were giving yourself to fox mulder, allowing yourself to be loved and touched and cherished by him, and he couldn’t help himself from making a joke at the expense of your height. you smiled and you couldn’t stop the laugh that he loved so dearly from tumbling from your lips.
“i said,” you spoke in mock annoyance, shoving him away playfully as his hands roamed up your stomach to gently cup your breasts, and you gasped at the touch, thoughts becoming more jumbled in your brain by the second. you scrunched your face trying to keep the facade of annoyance up, but you were unable to keep the smile from breaking through, and you swallowed thickly as his thumbs massaged in circles. “i said, i love you, you giant idiot.” and he smiled a toothy grin at you.
“i love you more.”
you couldn’t quite describe the emotions you were feeling, there was a culmination of so many at once. happiness, love, lust, contentment, desire, the whole lot. it amazed you how one person could conjure up such sentiments within you, and you could only hope you did the same for him.
he pulled his hands down to hold your waist again as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own, a kiss of fervor. you tasted the lingering effects of your toothpaste mixed with the earthy flavors of the tea you had made earlier still somehow soaked into the cracks of your lips. he pulled your bottom lip with his teeth softly, and you moaned into the kiss with surprise, a sound he swallowed up with nary a complaint. but then he pulled away, and you leaned forward, body and mind still begging for more, and he chuckled breathily.
“quite needy, huh?” he spoke softly, and your eyes fluttered open at the sound. you watched the way he looked at you, and it only fueled the flames of desire within you more.
“quite a tease, huh? ” you mocked, leaning forward to capture his lips once more, whatever passion that the last kiss held, this one was tenfold. it was sloppy, wet, incited by the intensity of your coupled desire. your lips parted and he took the chance for his tongue to slip inside, and your fingers grasped and tugged at his hair, earning a groan from him, and you melted into the sound and sensation.
you arched your back, head thrown back as his hands roamed under your shirt and gently traced up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and with this new angle his mouth kissed, licked, and nipped at your throat and your hold on his hair got impossibly tighter, and he groaned once more, feeling the vibrations rattle against your throat. you loosened your grasp suddenly and clumsily, uttering hushed apologies as you did so, fearing you might’ve hurt him by pulling too hard. you felt fox smile against your neck, and he pulled away, lips parted as he looked at you. your breathing was fast and your cheeks burned. your neck was red and glistening from his lips, teeth, and tongue, and you looked absolutely stunning in his eyes.
you sat there, deep breaths and adrenaline coursing through your body, and arousal pulsing at your core, as you waited for him to say something, anything. his tongue slid across his teeth into a smile.
“don’t be sorry,” his hands, which had found their way back to your waist, gave a gentle reassuring squeeze, and he leaned in close to your ear again. “i like it.” and you felt your heart flutter.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” you crooned, and his smile remained. he kissed you gently and you fought your bodies urge to lurch forward and devour him whole. your insides fluttered with lust and your core dripped with desire. there was an empty ache within you and while yes, you enjoyed this moment of intimacy, your arousal was like waves, pushing at the floodgates within your brain, and you were willing to let it take control.
“you weren’t.” fox said, pulling his lips away from you slowly, eyes watching you almost as if he could sense your internal struggle, and you simply tried to catch your breath in return.
his hands slithered down away from you, pushing your legs apart wider as he began to kneel before you, eyes watching your reactions the entire time as he cupped his hands and arms around you, pulling you towards the edge of the counter, ever closer to him, and during this process your heels naturally found a resting spot against his back. your skin burned where his hands held you, and all your brain could think about was how his long slender fingers would feel curling inside of you, and his plump lips and tongue tasting you. it was intoxicating.
“we’re doing this here?” you asked, and still he looked up at you, an eyebrow quirked. you felt like a divine being sitting here before him like this, even though he was not on his knees for prayer. fox mulder was not a religious man, but you held the power to make him one, for you were like a goddess to him, and he was going to treat you as such, even if it meant he would have to use his mouth for something so sinful, but for you, he would do anything. his eyes, a deep, dilated color like the moss covered forest floor stared up at you and you felt sacred, even with his gaze mirroring that of the hungry fox lurking within, but you, you were the forbidden fruit, and he was dying to have a taste.
“here.” you decided firmly before he could answer. it was your world, and nothing else mattered. you created the space before you now, and fox was nothing if not your devout follower.
your hands gripped the countertop tightly, knuckles turning white in anticipation, desire tingling in your abdomen and pooling in your underwear. his eyes looked up at you, hands going to push his shirt up your stomach so he could get a better view, and you shivered as the movement tickled your belly. a small tuft of pubic hair peeked out of the top of the lace trim of your undergarments, and your face grew hot as your eyes watched his every move.
fox shot you a quick look, a soft “can i?” surpassing his lips, hanging in the air as you nodded in approval, too busy staring at his face and analyzing his long eyelashes. your eyes traveled down his large nose, sweeping over his pores, and finally resting upon his parted lips, watching as they moved and his voice pulled you from your thoughts and brought you back to the moment.
“use your words,” was what he said, still holding you, but not moving an inch closer until you permit him to. you had control over the situation and your body trembled before him, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you spoke.
“please.”
and that was all he needed as he leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to you through your underwear. you gasped at the contact, hips shifting, pelvis tilting, but he held you in place, eyes closed as his mouth pressed more fervent kisses to you, and god, you never wanted to remove an article of clothing more in your life. as if he could read your thoughts, a sudden sound between a gasp and a cry escaped your lips as he pulled the wet fabric to the side, and his mouth pressed directly against you in a gentle teasing kiss. you throbbed before him, and it was almost torturous when you felt the slick cotton fabric covering you back up again, his fingers tracing over you through the fabric once more, oddly reassuring you that he was going to take care of you.
you groaned out of frustration, now exceedingly desperate for his touch, and he cocked his head at you, a faux innocent smile plastered on his face, looking like a dog sitting on the floor in front of you, paws on your thighs, tail wagging excitedly as he begged for scraps. you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d seen him drooling before you.
“what?” he asked, unable to hide the teasing glint in his eyes as he stared up at you and you quivered before him.
“are you trying to get me to beg?” you asked, chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.
“well… you know i wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
“i already said please.”
“so say it again then.”
his hands gave you a gentle squeeze causing you to squirm before him, your cheeks getting hotter and the ache within you deepening.
“christ,” you whined, rolling your eyes back in frustration. you knew what you wanted, he knew what you wanted. all you had to do was ask for it.
he loved it when you begged, and while yes, it might inflate his ego a bit, that’s not the reason why he loved it so. it’s because it was nice to have vocal confirmation that you wanted him so desperately as he did you. deep down he was a bit insecure that you didn’t love or desire him nearly as much as he loved and desired you, and while he knew this wasn’t true, there was always this little voice in the back of his head saying “what if?” and hearing your voice pleading for his touch drowned it out and shoved it away.
fox peppered kisses up your thighs, getting close but staying ever far away from where you desired him most. your hands found his hair yet again, intertwining in the soft brunet locks atop his head, and you sucked in a breath as he licked a stripe at the crevice where your leg and hip joined, breaths tickling your skin as the sweet scent of your arousal filled his nose.
“fox, please , if you don’t hurry up i’m going to-“
“what?” he asked, cutting you off while his eyes looked up at you and the cunning smile of a fox etched itself onto his face. you couldn’t quite help but think he had chosen his name appropriately. fox, fox, fox, the word played in your head like a melody, darting around your thoughts like an animal chasing its prey. “you’ll do what exactly?” his words sliced through you while you sat atop the counter like a divine meal, waiting to be ripped and torn to shreds by gnashing teeth, juice dripping and soaking into the earth beneath.
“christ, i don’t- i don’t know, okay? just-“ your words fumbled out of your mouth faster than you could think, frustration and arousal bubbling fast within your body like a pot boiling over on the stove.
“please, please , just touch me already. pretty please?”
“pretty please, huh?” he chuckled to himself as his hands slid to your lower back and over the curvature of your ass, thumbs hooking themselves in the waistband of your underwear. he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for your assistance and you obliged, lifting your hips, allowing him to pull the sodden underwear down off from you, and you kicked them off to the side, legs resting over his shoulders once more. your eyes locked with his as you stared each other down, wondering who would break first. your hand outreached coming up to cup his cheek and jaw again, your thumb tracing over his bottom lip out of habit, and your breath hitched as he pulled it into his mouth, tongue darting over your fingertip devilishly.
he was the first to break eye contact, eyes lurking down your body, finding their way to your dripping core, glistening in the dim lighting, and you were brought back to reality a little bit, realizing that here, now, fox mulder was about to go down on you, in your kitchen. thank god.
you squirmed under his gaze, both out of desire and longing to be touched, tasted, devoured, and picking up on this, he shot a glance up towards you once more, before leaning down and kissing your inner thighs, lips leaving ghostly kiss marks everywhere they touched, and your skin burned with want as his mouth got closer and closer.
fox decided that he had teased you sufficiently. you were a whining princess sat atop a tower, waiting to be rescued, satiated, and he was your knight in shining armor. that and of course, you had asked so nicely. pretty please. how cute and desperate you were, you really were like a princess, his princess, and while fox was never one to be controlling over you, he loved and relished in this possessiveness he was feeling. no one else got to see you like this, but him. no one else made you feel like this but him.
with that thought, he pressed a warm kiss to your wetness, and your body jolted at this, feeling electricity course through you as his tongue licked a tantalizing stripe up your center. one of your hands clenched at his hair, fearing your grasp was the only thing holding you down on earth, the other pushed against the countertop, holding you up as your fingers writhed.
your heart beat for him, quite literally as he felt it pulsing within you. his tongue was soft and his jaw relaxed as he tantalizingly licked from your entrance up to your clit, and a moan escaped from your throat and past your lips, sounding like an angel. your eyes squeezed shut and your head threw back again as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs like a soft ripened peach, and his tongue swirled around you.
“jesus, thank you,” thank you, thank you, thank you, you moaned out, not caring if you were being too loud for your thin apartment walls. that wasn’t an issue for now, you would deal with it later. all that existed to you was this moment and the man before you, as he clouded your mind and drank you up, your soul pouring right through you and into him, for him to hold, to love, to cherish. and cherish you he did.
it was like a stage, dark and empty minus the large spotlight shining on you, and only you. the audience was empty, spare for fox, watching you and encouraging your performance as a heavenly choir of moans tumbled from within you, to which his tongue danced in time to.
his mouth worked expertly against you, and your hand tugged at his hair, mewling and moaning, all this behavior just egging him on more.
and then he pulled away, chin slick with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and you whined at the loss of contact, eyes flashing open and looking downwards at him, confusion scribbled all over your face. you had thought the teasing was over.
“christ,” he chuckled at your expression, licking the taste of you off from his lips. “are you that desperate or am i just that good?”
“why’d you stop?” you whined, ignoring his gloating and teasing. usually you might feel embarrassed, but right now all you could focus on was the missing sensation of his mouth, and the panging emptiness within you, and his expression softened at seeing your pained one.
“relax princess,” he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and you whimpered. “i wanted to know if you could hold yourself up okay? i want to use my fingers.” your insides pulsed and your gut clenched at the mention, and how he said it so casually. wordlessly, and quickly, you rearranged yourself into a better position to hold yourself up, his hands slithering down around you, and up your inner thighs.
“good girl,” he praised succinctly, patting your inner thigh gently as he did, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper at his words. his long slender fingers then traveled up towards you and his when they reached their destination, he began moving them in circular motions over and near your clit as you sucked a breath in between your teeth. they moved slow at first, and then gradually began to pick up some speed, stroking up and down, before his fingers fully moved down, parting your folds before slipping inside, slowly starting with just one, pushing inside and then pulling it out, repeating this process teasingly, knowing just how to get you going.
“you’re so beautiful, so needy for me, huh?” he teased, and you wriggled in response, unable to create a coherent sentence, so you opted to let a singular word flow from your lips.
“more.”
he hummed, and then suddenly it was two fingers, and a string of lewd noises and blasphemous curses came from you in response. you were drunk on him, on everything about him, his words, his actions, his smell, his taste, and oh how that thought made you desperately want his mouth and his tongue back on you, tasting you.
his fingers slipped out of you again, slick and shiny, and you looked at him with your mouth dropped open from pleasure, and a protest almost escaped from you before you witnessed him licking his fingers, like he could read your mind, and for a second you wondered if he actually could. your arousal coated his tongue, before he slipped both his fingers slowly back inside, gingerly picking up speed. your eyes closed, relishing in the sensations he was providing you and you were unable to control the soft moans that vibrated from the back of your throat.
“you sound so pretty,” his voice was soft as he spoke. “so pretty just for me, hmm?” he was taking expert care of you, as if that was his divine purpose. he felt that it was, for you were kind enough to let him see you like this, and it was so so much better than anything his mind had ever fantasized about.
he pressed a few more wet kisses to your thighs, and then just as suddenly his mouth wanted to resume it’s place, and so a bit of spit dribbled from his lips down onto you, adding a bit more wetness to the situation, before his tongue resumed its place, supping at you with unequivocal thirst. his fingers were coated in your wetness and he began curling them up and attacking one spot in particular, earning a whine and a sharp intake of breath from you.
his mouth and lips found their way back up towards your clit, pulling it into his mouth and then letting it go just as suddenly. but then it was back again, and he gently sucked on it, lips soft and warm as he darted his tongue over and around you, and you couldn’t help the surprised and wanton noises you created in return.
your eyes fluttered open to see that his were closed, and you looked down at him, watching his every move, pulsing as you sucked in a breath. the roles were now a bit reversed, you were still the receiver, but he was now the performer, dazzling you with his magical talents. his fingers moved miraculously inside of you causing your thoughts to fade away, like some silly card trick. his sleight of hand was wonderful, his fingers and his mouth knowing exactly how to please you.
“sh-, i’m-,” you panted out, hips grinding against him. his other hand slid back up to hold you and offer more stability, and your walls clenched around his fingers in a way that made him hum against you, sending vibrations throughout.
his mouth pulled away again, jaw beginning to ache from the way he was hungrily feasting upon you, but his fingers remained and he watched you pant and shudder before him, your eyes now closed once more, too focused on the sensations he was providing you.
“yeah?” he asked, encouraging you to use your words. he loved when you were vocal about what he was doing to you, telling him how good you felt or even when all your brain could do was conjure up unintelligible noises. and he loved watching you like this. your parted lips, heavy breaths, eyes scrunched close as you bathed in the way he was making you feel.
“fuck, keep going,” you whined, pleading almost, as your arms and muscles strained, holding up your weight as your hips undulated against his hand. you would be afraid of toppling from your position on the counter, if the only thought you were able to think about wasn’t fox and his hands and his mouth and the sensations he was providing you. just him, him, him, nothing else mattered at the moment, your brain too clouded by pleasure and your impending orgasm that was bubbling beneath the surface. all because of him.
“oh i wouldn’t dream of stopping…. again,” he smirked, able to tell you were close. if you weren’t so enraptured by the moment, you would’ve laughed at him, but you were hyper focused on how good you felt. how good he was making you feel. he swapped his fingers for his mouth, but not before telling you to watch. he wanted to drink you up as you came on his tongue, which he was now fucking you with, and he wanted you to watch him do it. you moaned loudly, sweat pouring from your brow, eyes fluttering open as you watched him between bated breaths.
he hummed against you, and you fought the urge to throw your head back, pleasure washing over you, vibrations coursing through your body as you were ready to come undone.
and that you did, your body tensing and your grip becoming more harsh, grabbing at his hair and holding him in place as you rode out your high. your head threw back, mouth agape, thighs squeezing together around him tightly like a vicd, and a rush shot through your body like a bolt of lightning and you pulsed, walls contracting. his mouth kept working against you, coaxing and guiding you through your orgasm until your body and muscles began to relax and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, along with releasing him from both your hands and thighs grip, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as your brain began to slowly process everything.
you used your hand that was holding him in place to now gently push him away from you, feeling overly sensitive, and as he pulled away, his chin was still slick and jaw still aching as he regained his own breath, breaths that slipped past his pink and puffy lips. he stood, leaning forward to enrapture your lips in a kiss, the taste of you still lingering all over him.
“sorry.” you squeaked out, after breaking away from the kiss, still reeling from the effects of your orgasm.
he hummed, “for what?” he really didn’t know what you had to be sorry for, for feeling good? he’d wanted you to, he wanted to take care of you and wanted to make you cum. and he had many times in the past, so what was there to be apologetic for now? he figured it was your nerves, or your own embarrassment rushing to the surface, so he rubbed your side reassuringly. there was absolutely nothing you needed to apologize for, and he really couldn’t think of what it would be.
“suffocating you?” you questioned, as if it was supposed to be something so obvious. and he laughed, a big laugh, like really? that was it? he wasn’t laughing at you, so much so as the apparent absurdity of your statement. as if being suffocated between your thighs wasn’t something he’d enjoy.
after recovering from his laughing fit, he cupped your cheek, smiling softly when he saw your confused expression and the way you couldn’t help yourself from leaning into his touch.
“baby,” he kissed you once more, lips lingering against yours for a second before pulling away to look into your eyes. he opened his mouth to say something else, more reassurances, but you cut him off with another kiss.
“‘s my turn to make you feel good now?” you questioned, drunkenly in love with the man before you. your hand traced down his chest, past his belly button and down his happy trail, fingertips dipping below his waistband, but he grabbed your wrist stopping you from going any further.
you looked up at him, once again confused. did he not want you to touch him?
“not here love,” and then you smiled as he helped you down from the counter top, rescuing the princess from her tower and holding your wrist again to lead you towards the bedroom, leaving your underwear behind, forgotten about for now, along with the two cups of tea you had prepared earlier that had now gone cold.
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mythalism · 3 months ago
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I cackled at your post lamenting PR disaster after *that* Mythal screen, ngl XD
Super curious to hear your thoughts on qunari specific line with Mythal in Crossroads, where she claims to still love Solas. (in fact, that both of them still do). Also the fact that the foil to their relationship there seems to be motherly love is…messy. Their whole situationship is.
it on EIP Gaming youtube channel
i did see this though i wasnt able to watch the full vid at the time, i just watched it now. someone else also asked me my thoughts on this in my inbox so ill just answer this one, but i think its so funny that people are asking me about it hehehe. i wasnt surprised by it at all i think it makes perfect sense. of course she loved solas and of course she still does. just because she loves him doesnt mean shes not an absolute freak. it doesnt mean her love isnt literally poisonous. its still love, but shes a corrupted spirit. she loves being a god and the power over other people it gives her. shes not like other girls. shes a freak, shes a weirdo. anyway. my point is that i think shes right when she says that "we" (both rook and us as the audience) genuinely cannot understand the bond they had because their immortality would have made it something unrecognizable to us. shes being racist when she says it but idk why anyone would expect her to be anything but racist. however i think the sentiment when turned towards the audience is true. they were spirits together. they have known each other for an incomprehensible amount of time. we will never be able to understand the extent of their devotion even if it was ultimately ruinous. you can love someone and still abuse and manipulate them.
as for rook randomly bringing up fucking SHATHANN (no shade to miss shathann, i actually thought she was very interesting and the highlight of taash's storyline and that their relationship was compelling).... rook is a loser and an idiot and this is just them acting in congruence with their overall characterization as a loser and an idiot. if anything it actually proves mythal's point that rook cannot understand their relationship when they randomly start bringing up shathann and taash. dumbass fucking thing to say. i think its extremely reductive and literally just makes rook look so stupid. solas and mythals relationship is complex because they COMMITTED WAR CRIMES TOGETHER. it is so incomparable to taash and shathann having a very relatable and typical teenager/mom conflict over taash's identity and finding themselves. meanwhile solas and mythal were literally creating a bioweapon. anyway.
the mother implication doesnt actually bother me LOL. ive been saying the vibes are oedipal since before this game came out. again, we cannot understand it. people say things like "mother/son" and i even throw around "oedipal" and "freudian" but genuinely the ancient elves had such different conceptions of relationships due to both their immortality but also their origin at spirits that there is really nothing comparable. they did not have families and they probably had very different ideas of romantic relationships. this is something i really wish the game had explored more lol add it to the list! we just get glimpses of how they cared about each other. piecing together the 20,000 years is impossible. i believe it was intended that way. we are supposed to struggle to quantify it. i doubt they themselves could label the nature of their relationship if they tried. "love" is the closest word that exists.
as for mythal agreeing to help because she loves him? yeah. of course. im not surprised it works. she loves him, whatever the fuck that means to her. she also has a miserable lonely existence. yes she used him as a tool but he cannot function as a tool to her anymore, not in her sorry state, and so she is able to see him as a man and thus let him go. though maybe shes bamboozling everyone, morrigythal is about to pull her out of that statue again in da5 and pull one over on us, and she released his ass just to get him off the chessboard so she can get her reckoning. a girl can hope
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thewitcheswitch89 · 8 months ago
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We were just two fools
( Chapter 1 ? dont know yet) Papa Emeritus IV x Female reader
you can also read on:
Min Heyoka (@TheWitcheswitch89) - Wattpad
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Copia sat in his office, his heart pounding. He was waiting for you, he had summoned you to his office to finally clear things up. But he still didn't know how he was going to do it, he just hoped he wouldn't screw it up again.  Then there was a knock. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip before speaking, looking up from the pile of papers on his desk. "Come in," he called, putting down the cup and leaning back in his chair, straightening his posture and running his fingers through his hair to look more presentable.
„Hello Papa, you wanted to talk to me?" you said and entered his office, feeling a bit nervous.
Copia smiled softly and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Ah, yes! Come in! Sit down, please! I wanted to talk to you about something." He says gently, watching you make yourself comfortable.
Copia was, smiling gently before he started his question. "I wanted to ask your opinion about something." He paused and took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do. "I was thinking... that maybe you could help me with... something?"
" With what exactly?" you asked.
Copia paused again, trying to find the right words. He was getting more and more nervous and visibly flustered, and it was becoming obvious. He took a deep breath, sat up straighter in his chair and rubbed his neck. "Well... I've been... struggling to figure something out, and I was wondering if you might be able to... assist me in some... aspect?" He stammered, rubbing his eyes and sighing.
"Okay?!" you looked at him confused.
Copia looked down at his desk and fiddled nervously with his pen before looking up at you and meeting your gaze. He was embarrassed to even ask; he was Papa, for God's sake! He was supposed to be confident, strong, and yet here he was, stuttering and stammering over every word. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and spoke, avoiding eye contact. "I need advice on...love."
You looked at him in shock. "Ehmm ok..?!"
Copia's cheeks burned and he felt his heart racing in his chest. This was incredibly embarrassing. He shifted in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you as he spoke, trying to keep his voice level. "I... I have feelings for someone." He confessed quietly, hiding his face behind his gloved hand as he blushed an even deeper shade of red.
" Feelings for someone...?" You asked cautiously.
Copia was extremely embarrassed, but nodded. "Yes... I have feelings for a... certain someone." He answered, his voice soft. "And I wanted to know...how...to...possibly...express them." Copia hid his face behind his gloved hands, feeling incredibly nervous.
You smiled at his shy behavior. "Ok, so...do you want to share who it is?"
Copia's face turned even brighter red as he heard your question, his heart pounding in his chest. "I...I can't....tell you!" He blurts out, his face buried in his hands. "Oh Satanas, how pathetic I am..." He groans, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
"Its ok Papa...just tell me how I can help you...what exactly is the problem?" you asked.
Copia slowly removed his hands from his face and looked up at you. He took a shuddering breath, trying to hide how nervous he was. "I don't know how to tell her how I feel. We're close; we've known each other for years, and I like her so... so much. I just can't get up the courage to tell her how I feel. Copia sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, avoiding eye contact.
Jealousy crept up on you. You sighed. You had to keep your composure. It was clear that he did not mean you...how could he? of course he would never feel the same for you...you were just friends...nothing more...you smiled at him, hiding your true feelings. "Well...has she ever shown you any affection? do you think she feels the same for you?"
Copia hummed as you spoke, his face still slightly flushed. He looked at your questions and thought. "Well... she's always been close to me. We are close friends, but...maybe..." Copia took a deep breath, trying to get the words out of his mouth. "I don't know if she feels the same way." He confesses. "She's always been nice to me, but that's because we're friends." He looks up at you. "I don't know if... she loves me."
" Mhh...I guess there is no other way...than to ask her...to tell her how you feel...how will you know if you don't?", you said.
Copia sighs again and rests his head in his hand, hiding his face. "I suppose you are right..." He mutters. "I'm just..." He looks up again, his eyes fixed on you. "I'm afraid... I'm afraid that she'll reject me and I'll lose her friendship because of it. I value our friendship too much to risk it."
"I know what you mean....but sometimes we have to take that risk," you assured him, your words hurting yourself....you wanted nothing more than to be the one he was actually talking about.
"I suppose you're right..." Copia replied, sighing again. "But I don't know... how to tell her. I just..." He looked at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "What if I mess it up? What if I say something....stupid? I don't want to ruin our friendship with her thinking I'm a loser..." Copia groaned and buried her face in her hands again.
" Ok, so let's think of a way to tell her, ok!" you smiled at him.
"Ah, yes..." Copia mumbled, looking up at you through his fingers. He was humming to himself, trying to think even though his mind was going blank. "I...ugh...everything I try to think of sounds stupid." He groaned, dropping his hands from his face. "Everything I come up with is either cliché or idiotic."
"How about something simple...don't think too complicated!" you said.
Copia hummed, thinking. "Alright...simple. I can do simple..." He thought, trying to come up with something. "Maybe...I could just...tell her straight up? Just...be honest with my feelings?"
"That's the best you could do...and being honest is never wrong...!"
Copia nodded, sighing and nodding again. "Yes...yes, you're right." He looked up at you, a hesitant smile on his face. "I just... I just need the courage and confidence to actually do it, haha..."
"Take your time...just go up to her...and tell her something like....I need to talk to you...I can't hide it anymore...I have feelings for you...something like that!" you looked at him as you said it.
Copia's cheeks blushed a deep crimson as he listened to your words, his heart racing. "I... I guess I could..." He stammered, looking away. "Although...I feel like I would stutter and make a fool of myself if I got...nervous..." He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart.
"It doesn't matter if you stutter...all that matters is that you get your feelings off your chest...!" you assured him.
Copia took a deep breath as you encouraged him. "You're right...getting it off my chest is more important than looking like a fool...haha." Copia chuckled, trying to hide how nervous he was. "I just...need the confidence to do it..." He mumbled again, fidgeting nervously.
" You can do it...no, you have to...if you want to know if she feels the same way. You can't just walk around wondering about it...!" you smiled.
Copia nodded and sighed. You were right, of course. He couldn't just... go on like this, wondering if she felt the same. He had to tell her, he had to get it out of his system. Even if it was like a punch in the gut if she didn't feel the same way, at least he would know. "Yeah...yeah, you're right...I have to do it. I have to tell her." He mumbled, still nervous.
" That's the spirit!" you said.
Copia chuckled. "I'm still incredibly nervous..." He admitted, fidgeting with his hands again. He looked up at you. "But... I am grateful for your encouragement." He smiled, feeling better with the support and encouragement you had given him.
You nodded. you felt your heart breaking. all the time you had spent hoping he might have feelings for you seemed to have been for nothing. and you felt stupid. you just wanted to get out of his office... his presence didn't make it any better. "So I hope I could help you!"
Copia noticed the sudden change in your mood, the shift from happy to...dejected. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset you? "Y-yes...you helped..." He mumbled, watching you closely. "A-are you okay? You...seem upset..."
"No, I'm fine...I wish you luck...I hope it turns out the way you want it to!" you said smiling.
Copia wasn't convinced. He could tell you were lying. You tried to act like you were fine, but he knew you weren't. His heart hurt, he hated to see you upset. "You... are a terrible liar." He told you bluntly, looking at you with a worried expression.
"What do you mean?" you said.
Copia sighed and fixed you with a stern look. "I know you're not well." He replied. "You're putting on a front with that fake smile of yours. You're clearly upset and trying to hide it..." Copia studied your face, his expression filled with concern.
You giggled nervously. "What would I lie about?" you replied.
Copia's expression didn't change. He wasn't convinced. "You put on this smiling, happy persona, but I can see through it. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes. You're putting on a show to make me think you're okay, but I know you're not." Copia replied, his eyes piercing yours. "Just tell me. Why are you upset?"
"No, I'm fine, really!" you said quickly, waving him off.
Copia frowned, sighing and getting more worried. You were so defensive, hiding something. Your behavior only confirmed his suspicion that you weren't feeling well. He rose from his chair and approached you, looking down at you with a gentle but stern look. "No, it's not 'okay.' I know something is wrong. You are upset. Please just tell me what is bothering you."
You sighed and looked down. "It's not easy to explain!"
Copia hummed, gently grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. "It doesn't matter if it's easy to explain or not. I know something is bothering you, and it's clearly affecting you. I just want to make it better." Copia gave you a gentle but firm look, waiting for you to respond.
"It's...it's just..." you avoided looking at him. "It's just... I... I was hoping that you..." you couldn't tell him, you couldn't.
Copia hummed again, watching your expression. He had an idea of what you were going to say, but he remained silent, waiting for you to finish. "You... hoped I would what?" He nudged you gently, his hand still on your chin, holding you to him.
"That... you were talking about me when you mentioned the girl you had a crush on...!" you finally admitted.
Copia froze, his eyes widening slightly as he realized what you had said. His heart began to race. "You... you thought that I..." He trailed off, letting go of your chin and taking a step back. "That I was talking about you?" He said quietly.
You stood up and walked around the chair..."It's okay...it was just a stupid thought...I know we're just friends, right...!"
Copia stood stunned in his seat, his heart beating a sentence faster. He knew he had been talking about you....but something stopped him from admitting it. Maybe your reaction...
"Y-yes..." he murmured, avoiding eye contact. "We're just... Just friends."
You felt your heat sink..."Well...good luck with the other girl!" you said and walked to the door...and left his office...feeling like an idiot...you knew you had lost him...lost him as a friend...nothing could be the same now...nothing.
Copia sat back at his desk and watched in silence as you walked towards the door. His heart ached as you left, his mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. He had come so close to admitting his feelings for you, so why was he holding back? Why did he deny his feelings? He buried his head in his hands, moaning and cursing silently to himself. He knew that he had probably ruined his relationship with you, all because he was afraid to tell you the truth...
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mikomikono · 2 years ago
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hi miko! im here with a fic writing question… i was thinking about how to make smut good bc recently i feel like whenever i get to the smut part of the fic im writing i get super bored, like im just rehashing whatever ive been writing in every smut scene ive done for years. you and endles came to mind bc i always find your guys nsfw scenes really compelling, and great, and unique. while also being hot and fun (very important w smut!!) so i wanted to ask if you had any tips for keeping things exciting or fresh when you are tackling those scenes! especially because you guys have experience writing the same characters many times over and manage to be so creative and distinct with every scene ive read from you. so, i guess, penny for your thoughts, if you feel like it! (sorry for sending this only to you and asking for both your opinions, it was the simplest 😭. if u want to answer yourself only thats fine haha)
❤️
Heyyyy oh my god I never expected to become someone ppl would come to for writing advice, what an honour 💖 also, I hope you don't mind me answering publicly, bc I feel like this is something a lit of writers struggle with! I will put it under a cut tho, bc I ended up writing quite a bit oops
So. Smut. It's kinda funny you should ask me about that, bc the first proper sex scene I ever wrote was last year for Steamship Sexcapades (bc I am not counting that one feeble attempt at 19 that was so cringe that I hid it away and didn't even think about trying again for like 8 yrs) but I suppose after writing *checks The Canon word count* a lot since then means something :DD
Here's the thing: I also feel like I'm rehashing things. Constantly. There's only so many ways you can say "cock in hole ➡️ thrust" before you're gonna have to repeat some phrases. And honestly, I feel like I repeat phrases remarkably often! But in a way that's all writing! (or that's how I stop myself from getting too depressed about it lol) The readers don't notice! Usually. And as long as you don't use the exact same wording every single time.
Ok, so here's a few tips on what I, personally, think you need to make a good sex scene:
Don't be afraid of the words. Y'know, the first time I wrote "half-hard cock" I (allegedly) had to take a 10min break and texted a friend that I was not going to be able to do this. But after a while you sort of get used to it and the words that seemed embarrassing stop being that, and become just... Words. And you also shouldn't shy away from more "cringe" words! Sometimes its fun to be a little cringe!
Related, you should try to love the words. But that's just good general writing advice, I feel.
Describe the emotions. Most people feel... something towards those they are intimate with, and that should be true in erotica too. It should be especially true in erotica, I think! Even if it's a one night stand, strangers who met in the club 5mins ago, whatever... You want the characters to feel.
Don't forget the physical. This is a thing that might seem a bit... weird. Like, you're writing sex, how could it not be physical? But what I mean is that you shouldn't forget to describe how it feels to the people involved, most notably your POV character. It's very easy to get lost in describing what they're doing and completely forget to get into the actual feeling. You're not writing a sex manual! And I have read fics where half way through I realise that's what it sounds like.
It's never just about the sex. Even if you think it is, it's not. It's about the connection, the narrative, the characterisation... It's about showing something that you can only show through the kind of vulnerable intimacy that sex scenes provide. Even if it's a oneshot pwp, it still has something to say. Maybe that something is wanting to get your rocks off, but also we're talking about fanfiction... We don't read and write that just to get off. It's always about the characters.
Rehashing is fine, actually. As I said, there's only so many ways to describe certain things, and so many ways you can have sex. Except that's not really true, because the secret to keeping it fresh is mixing it up! You can change positions, you can change who's the top/bottom, you can add foreplay (you should) and then change what kind of foreplay you wanna have! You can look into kinks! You can change locations! (I know we've done that a lot) You can add or remove any number of things to make each individual encounter different! And that's the key: repetition is fine, so long as you don't use the exact same everything every time. Case in point, there is a tumblr post which I would link except I'm on mobile, that is titled sth like "list of vocal sounds for smut", which has a list of, well, sounds/verbs (moan, groan, hiss, whimper, whisper etc) and adjectives that could be paired with them (hoarse, needy, quiet, throaty, desperate, wanton etc). The point is, that the best way to keep from sounding repetitive is to mix and match the words so that even if you say "groan" five times in 5k words, it's a different kind of groan every time. The same applies to sex acts! Do you have any idea how much cock Ryunosuke has sucked during The Canon? A lot. But it doesn't feel repetitive (hopefully) because everything else around it is switched up.
And perhaps most importantly: you gotta be at least a little horny for it yourself. I get it, man, writing smut is weird. You sit in front of your computer, staring at the monitor like "hmm is it better to use the word cock or dick or member?" And like... That's not very sexy. But! But!!! At the end of the day you gotta write something that makes you excited! Otherwise what's the point? Why are you writing if it doesn't fulfill you on some level??
Anyway, that's just my thoughts on the matter. If you want more specific help with writing, you can always DM me, I don't mind~
Also, endles says she is too mentally exhausted to properly answer, but she seconds everything I said, especially the point about loving the words. Actually she really wants to say sth about that, so I'm paraphrasing her for the rest of this:
You, as a writer, should love language. You should love the neat little things that language can do and seek out new things to try every time. It's a journey of discovery! Just like sex is always a new journey, even if it's the same characters and the same sex acts, every individual time is a chance to find something new. Let yourself have fun! Write something really stupid and work from that. The way I create scenes by writing jokes, even for serious scenes, because sex at the core is kinda funny. You're standing naked (at least partially) in front of this other naked person and it makes you feel a bit funny.
Also concrete advice: pick a list of 5-10 words you want to use. They can be anything, verbs, nouns, adjectives, as long as you really, really vibe with them, because they make you happy, as long as they're not words you already use a lot. They can also all relate to the same theme if you want! And then find a way to put all those words in.
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smoosnoom · 2 years ago
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moon moon moon moon moon~
I’ve been trying to think of the right words for what reading your fics feels like and I think I’ve finally pinpointed it.
the way you write has this very intimate feeling about it. like I’ve stumbled into a room and walked in on somebody, interrupting something important. It’s almost uncomfortable, how genuine it all feels. it’s just so believable and I can’t help but feel like I should look away. Like I shouldn’t know these characters’ inner workings on such an intimate level. and even when it’s not the intimacy of introspection, of knowing a persons deepest desires and fears, it’s the little moments.
the moments between characters that clearly display how much they care for each other. and it’s not the build up to the great big confession or kiss. it’s the things that you wouldn’t think twice about if they happened to you. bc of course you would, if you really loved someone, of course you would do that.
like, in corollary, when Mike tells that story abt the normal bird and the squirrel to help Will sleep. or, in where we lay our scene, when Todd helps Neil read lines despite the fact that he’s kinda embarrassed about doing it. it’s the little things that say “I love you” loud enough that when we do get to the big confession scene, we know it to be true.
god. reading your fics feels like when you’ve invited someone into your life and they agree. it feels like washing joint wardrobes and ending up wearing a stray sock of someone you love. it’s keeping that piece of them with you and knowing, “you are mine and I am yours”. it’s feeling it so deeply that you can almost feel it thrumming in your blood. expanding and changing but never leaving. like it’s attached itself to your ribs and taken to weaving itself into your viscera.
reading your fics sometimes feels like falling in love.
oh my god . elijah . ELIJAAHHHHHHHH
u need to know how long i spent rereading this ask over and over again 😭 not to . sound insane or obsessed ok i just . u have a very good skill of knowing Exactly what to say to make me feel like a piece of melted cheese on a sunny day . i would do anything for u
like i jsut dont even know what to say !!!!!! i think especially because . reading my own writing i will never know if i actually accomplished what i want, and i bet u can definitely relate since u are an artist, but it is like u took a peek into my brain and found out exactly what i wanted to hear !!!!!!!
the idea u find it all intimate 😭😭 oh u mean the world to me . i think love is like ,, such a personal thing LOL and i know thats ironic bc i literally write romance but i think thats the intrigue of it all !! u want to see it in others and u want to see them happy !!!! and that stuff is Personal !!!!! so i am so so happy u get that feeling of intimacy, i always have that feeling of intruding in on something whenever i watch or read incredibly romantic media and . i am so overjoyed u get that from me
"it’s the things that you wouldn’t think twice about if they happened to you. bc of course you would, if you really loved someone" oh thats exactly it 😭 like that little emphasis on the ordinary, like something that isnt a big deal but it is because its Them
"reading your fics feels like when you’ve invited someone into your life and they agree. it feels like washing joint wardrobes and ending up wearing a stray sock of someone you love" elijah that is so lovely 😭 are u sure u arent the writer between us !!! and that bit about wearing a stray sock reminded me an awful lot of that one quote by rhiannon mcgavin that goes "of course you love me, you're wearing one of my socks"
i think this means all the more because . i have literally never even had a crush on anyone so the concept that i was able to mimic what ive been hoping love is like is just so ,, relieving or satisfying or something like that but not Exactly . mostly like im just happy i could see it for what it is :) thank u elijah u have no idea how much this and u mean to me !
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heartsofpearls-en · 2 years ago
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Criminal Love : Groveling
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CHAPTER FOUR ⸙͎۪۫。
[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]
Pairing ~ Jake x reader (Jisu)
Genre ~ Fake dating, contract relationship, forbidden love.
Warnings ~ contains excessive use of Cuss, angst, one or two punch scenes, kiss scenes, etc. (But nothing too over the top). Mention of Karina & Ningning (Aespa), Yunjin (Le Sserafim), Yujin (IVE), Hanni (New Jeans), Beomgyu (TXT), and Enhypen's Hyung line.
Author's note ~ idk how to use Tumblr for the love of god. So, I hope you'll enjoy this as, I've wrote it after listening to criminal love. You can also find this work on wattpad too. And as for the oc, her name will be Choi Jisu as I really don't like working with Y/N. Anyways, happy reading <3 and another thing is that, I've excluded some parts like the texts and social media parts because it would've been too lengthy.
Word count ~ 2.1k+
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6 years later.
“Tenth shot! Stop it now” Jisu groaned, almost yelling at Hanni, who took in the vodka shot.
“No Jiji!” Hanni slurred in a drunk voice. “Lemme have some fun. At least my boyfriend isn't here to stop me” She stated, gulping down another glass.
Jisu sighed, annoyed, as she dialed a number.
“Park Sunghoon, I'll fucking kill you! Come to the bar right now. Your girlfriend is wasted” She yelled over the phone and hung up.
From her peripheral vision, she saw two females, supporting another pair of females towards the barstool.
“How can these two throw up together?” Yujin snorted as she and Karina sat down the drunk Yunjin and Ningning.
“This bitch is leaving us, can't we fucking get drunk?” Yunjin grudged, whining.
A man in a suit with neatly done hair and a perfect face came towards the females and sighed.
“How much did she drink?” Park Sunghoon asked, sitting beside the drunk Hanni as she giggled, looking at her boyfriend.
“Ten shots” Jisu stated, looking at Hanni who rested her head on Sunghoon's shoulder.
“I'm going to take her home. Will you be alright? Or should I call Beomgyu?” Sunghoon asked, looking at the sober females.
“I'll take Yunjin home and Karina will take Ningning" Yunjin stated as Sunghoon nodded and looked at Jisu.
“I haven't had a shot. I'll be fine” She nodded, assuring him as he picked up Hanni and walked out of the bar.
“Will you be able to go home?” Karina asked as Jisu nodded.
“We'll go to the airport tomorrow” Ningning slurred in her drunk voice as the others nodded.
“You should go and get some rest” Yujin stated as Jisu nodded, conforming that they're fine with the wasted pair, she walked out of the door.
Jisu was leaving for America. Over the course of six years, she published eight books and four sets of them, being a series. They formed two one of the best-selling books in New York Times, and she was moving to America, temporarily. Talking about the books now.
The first series was sudden love. Like, love in first sight, CEO and secretary, billionaire romance and best friends brother.
But the second set of series was all based on fake relationships. Like, contract marriage, fake dating, forced proximity and forbidden love.
The group knew exactly why she wrote the second set of book series because she showed,
Even though the protagonists in the books struggled hard with their relationships, they still became one.
However, that was never her case.
She considered herself to be a 'female, cursed out of romance' and would never find a man.
That was halfway true because, her first kiss was Jake and, until this day, her last kiss was also Jake.
After what happened with Jake, she was too afraid to commit to any relationship as, everything felt wrong. She thought that she'll end up broken again.
That stage was so hard on Jisu that it impacted on her mental health. She had to take therapy and often cried during those sessions.
And Beomgyu's abrupt return to Seoul was a shock for all, but he knew, what was going on with Jisu and Jake. He was going to confront them, but later found his sister's heart broken and came to know that it was a fake relationship.
But, until this date, apart from those who knew Jake and Jisu's contract, no one new got to know about their fake relationship.
Jay, Sunghoon, Hanni, Ningning, Karina, all thought that they broke up because Jake was leaving the country. But they knew the truth.
However, the situation, right now, was extremely amusing.
Here, Jisu was preparing to leave for America and Jake, who was also preparing to leave for America from Australia because he was taking over the American branch of their Architectural firm.
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Few weeks passed by.
A library.
A peaceful spot for all readers.
Choi Jisu sat on a stool by the window, reading 'Red, White and Royal Blue' by Casey McQuiston. God knows how many times she has read this book, but she liked it.
She loved how Henry and Alex fought everyone and established their love. Without any fear of the world and how they'll judge them.
Her peaceful reading session ended when a young girl, around her twenties, walked towards her, holding one of her books.
"Ms. Jisu, I'm a big fan of yours. Can I get a sign" She showed Jisu her book as she smiled?
"Of course" She stated and signed on the book. The girl walked away as Jisu stood up too. From the day before, she was planning to buy some books from the book store, and she was currently heading there.
The book store was filled with little to none people, which made Jisu sighed in relief.
She made her way to the romance section and saw her books displayed on the rack. She was quite pleased to see them stocked up with all eight of them. But she didn't come here to look for her books.
She was looking for, Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood.
She finally spotted it. It was on a shelf above her head as she groaned. She was too short to reach. But she didn't lose any hope.
She got on her tippy-toes and reached out for the book, but still couldn't. She tried once again but groaned. However, before she was going to turn away, a body came up from behind her and a hand outstretched, grabbing the book for her.
She turned around but was frozen.
It was Jake. Sim fucking Jaeyun.
"Thank you" She spoke in a cold tone as she grabbed the book from his hand and turned around.
"Jisu" He called out, making her turn towards him. "I know what I-"
"I really don't wanna talk about it" She stated.
"But at least listen to me" He pleaded, looking at her.
"There's nothing between us, Mr. Sim. You go on your way and I go on mine" Jisu stated as she walked towards the counter and paid for the book and walked out. She didn't want to, but unknowingly a tear slipped past her eyes.
But Jake felt way more broken than she felt at this moment. He wanted Jisu back, but only if he could make her understand that he was forced to break her heart.
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“You're pathetic bro”
Heeseung spat over the phone as Jake sobbed.
Her peaceful reading session ended when a young girl, around her twenties walked towards her, holding one of her books.
“He's not pathetic! He's a dumb fucking dickhead!” Beomgyu yelled from the side. “He fucking broke my sister's heart, and now he's acting all pathetic. What the fuck is wrong with this dumbass?” A crash was heard from the other side of the phone.
Beomgyu's anger was on the next level when it came to his sister.
“I don't know what I'll do. Grandfather called me in and I had nothing—”
“Nothing to do except for breaking the girl's heart who had fallen for you deeply” Heeseung stated, a hint of ridicule in his voice was prominent as he cut Jake off.
“You could've said that wait for me or something. Jisu wouldn't have faced all of this shit because of you. She was mocked in the university because everyone thought you dumped her and left” It was Yunjin's time to speak.
Both Beomgyu and Heeseung turned to see Yunjin and Yujin in Beomgyu's house and frowned.
“What are you two doing here?” Beomgyu asked, looking at the girls as Yujin sighed.
“Jisu called us crying earlier. She felt so depressed” Yujin stated and sat beside Heeseung as he tangled up his fingers with her and gave a soft smile.
“I hurt her too much, didn't I?” Jake's voice cracked.
“You did” Heeseung spoke out.
“Beomgyu, will you give me another chance? I'll be a better person for Jisu" Jake asked as Beaomgyu scoffed.
“If you break her heart again, I'll break you, happily” Beomgyu stated as Yunjin frowned.
“But what's the actual reason for you to turn Jisu's confession? She even wrote a whole book series to show you that even with a fake relationship, people so end up together” She asked as Jake sighed.
“It's because his grandfather called him over, and he thought that it was best to turn Jisu down because she deserved someone better than him. Now, this idiot is a fucking CEO” Heeseung hissed.
“I know I'm a coward” Jake sighed.
“The best move for you to get Jisu back is, to grovel” Yunjin stated.
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𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴.
𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴.
𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴.
𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯. 𝘏𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.
Jisu typed furiously on her laptop as tears made her eyes blurry. Who would've actually thought the writer who writes all romantic books actually has a pathetic love life?
And Jake Sim was at the fault.
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳.
𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.
𝘏𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥.
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳.
𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺.
𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.
𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵.
'𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭' 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥.
'𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?' 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘩 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.
𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦.
𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.
𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.
𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.
She saved this on her draft and shut the laptop, sobbing and clutching the pillow to her chest.
No one should suffer so much even when they haven't dated.
She was still heartbroken, after six years.
If Sim Jaeyun wants to make it right, he needs to prove himself to her.
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One look and Jisu knew she was done for good.
She was drinking her vodka shots in the bar as Jake walked inside with his charming aura.
His tailored suit fit perfectly on his body, making him look breathtaking.
But before he could spot her, she quickly turned around to avoid being seen by him.
Maybe, whatever she wrote the last night was out of grieve? But her writings and her personal life had nothing to do with each other.
She asked for another shot and gulped down the previous shot, burning her throat.
From her peripheral vision, she saw Jake sitting on one of the barstool's, far away from her, as she sighed.
However, soon enough, a girl came towards her and started to give him flirty remarks.
If I say Jake was disgusting will be an understatement. He looked at the women, clearly displeased with her clingy behavior, as he looked at the corner.
That's when their eyes met.
Jake widened his eyes, but they couldn't hold their eye contact because the girl grabbed Jake's cheek and made him look at her.
That sight was enough for Jisu to gulp down her last shot before paying the bartender and walking towards the washroom.
After getting rid of that girl, Jake turned to see that Jisu vanished into thin air.
He wasn't getting any hallucinations, nor was he drunk. He quickly stood up and thought to look at the washroom as he made his way there.
Furthermore, he spotted her walking out of the female washroom.
She spotted him too and was about to walk inside the washroom again as he held her hand.
“Don't do this to me” He pleaded as Jisu snapped her head at him.
“This? If you are acting like this, why did you reject me earlier, Mr. Sim?” She asked with a hint of ridicule.
Jake sighed and rubbed his hand on his face. Then abruptly pulled her towards the nearest wall and pinned her against it. “I do like you. It's just, I was a coward to admit it”.
Jisu blinked at him, baffled by his sudden action and words.
“And I would rather not let you go again” He stated, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Then chase me. Hold on to be before I go beyond your grasp that you'll never catch me again”.
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Ten days.
Ten different flower bouquet.
Ten different chocolates.
These things were all amusing for Jisu. And today and was the day, Yunjin will come to America and stay with her for a while.
About time, the doorbell rings as Jisu opened the door, helping the groaning girl with her luggage.
“Holy heck! Your apartment looks like a flower shop” Yunjin eyes around and when she reached to take a chocolate bar, Jisu smacked her hand, making her whine.
“Don't fucking tell me, it's Jake” Yunjin stated, rubbing the back of her hand where Jisu smacked her.
A sheepish smile appeared on her face as she nodded.
“Damn. The groveling is hitting hard” Yunjin muttered, looking around.
“Men should know that groveling is the key to a happy relationship” Jisu stated, tossing a coke can to Yunjin as she glared.
“It'll fucking explode!” She yelled, looking at the coke can and walking towards the sink and opening it, making all the bubbles rush out of it.
“Happy explosion” Jisu mocked, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and picked up the laptop from the coffee table and set it on her lap.
“But Jake really is trying his hardest, isn't?” Yunjin asked, sitting beside Jisu as she nodded.
“I'll make him suffer, for a while” She stated, nonchalantly and kept on typing on her laptop.
Yunjin took a quick glance and gasped. “The male protagonist in this book is also groveling?” She asked with her eyes wide.
“Yup. The female protagonist and I have the same situation going on but, he left her because he told her that he liked someone else, which is a lie” Jisu answered as Yunjin nodded.
“Let him grovel” Yunjin smirked, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing
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@ heartsofpearls-en — 2023
6 notes · View notes
c0rpseductor · 4 months ago
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i finally found this fragment i thought was from pythagoras but was actually from plato. it was this passage that specifically connects persephone to the idea of metempsychosis as like, a figure who has control of who reincarnates, and i had been tearing my hair out trying to find it again bc i for some fucking reason thought it was a pythagorean thing. thank god. thank god. i can fucking relax again. thank you theoi dot com.
this is mostly because i found it interesting btw. it doesn't ever seem to get mentioned in discussion of her as a goddess so it might have just been a poetic device but it's really like, congruent with the concepts she represents and everything, so it's a topic i would like to put a pin in. this makes sense though because i was reading about the orphics earlier on wikipedia (which is what put me on the hunt) and they believed in reincarnation and were All About persephone, and plato was evidently in agreement with them on some Points. ive seen some people say the orphic tradition was kind of niche so maybe that's why nobody ever fucking talks about this
anyway id gotten it confused because pythagoreans also believed in metempsychosis. it was also one of their religious Things. i think it influenced the orphic belief? PLUS plato and pythagoras start with the same letter. you see the confusion
putting it under a cut here so that if i forget again i can just search pythagoras on my own blog and find it
Plato, Meno 81a ff (trans. Lamb) (Greek philosopher C4th B.C.) : "Sokrates (Socrates) : There were certain priests and priestesses who have studied so as to be able to give a reasoned account of their ministry [i.e. the priests of the Mysteries]; and Pindar also and many another poet of heavenly gifts. As to their words, they are these : mark now, if you judge them to be true. They say that the soul of man is immortal, and at one time comes to an end, which is called dying, and at another is born again, but never perishes [i.e. the soul is reincarnated]. Consequently one ought to live all one's life in the utmost holiness. ‘For from whomsoever Persephone shall accept requital for ancient wrong, the souls of these she restores in the ninth year to the upper sun again; from them arise glorious kings and men of splendid might and surpassing wisdom, and for all remaining time are they called holy heroes amongst mankind.’ Seeing then that the soul is immortal and has been born many times, and has beheld all things both in this world and in the nether realms, she has acquired knowledge of all and everything; so that it is no wonder that she should be able to recollect all that she knew before about virtue and other things. For as all nature is akin, and the soul has learned all things, there is no reason why we should not, by remembering but one single thing--an act which men call learning--discover everything else, if we have courage and faint not in the search; since, it would seem, research and learning are wholly recollection." [N.B. "Ancient wrongs"--in Greek penthos"affliction"--means something like "fall" or "sin" in the language of the mystics. These lines probably come from one of Pindar's Dirges. The "holy heroes" are the best of souls who dwell in the Islands of the Blessed, the penultimate Elysian paradise.]
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binary5tar1117 · 7 months ago
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I hit a point on my smut fic where it isn't flowing anymore. But I'm far enough along I'm confident at some point I'll tell myself to just finish it and when I go back and reread it I'll be able to get into it enough to wrap it up
So I decided to move on to another idea I had. Which is like a dnd inspired fae au. Actually mostly inspired by a court of fae and flowers the dimension20 season. It's still the best season I've watched so far. It's more like half dnd fae half bidgerton.
Ive basically been living in this fic all weekend, like it's keeping me up at night but I almost don't care because I'm that into it. It keeps flowing really nicely without much planning and in a way that feels like a real story and not... just people fucking. Which dont get me wrong is fun. But a real story makes me feel like a better writer which is more satisfying.
I almost never finish these types of fics though so.... no one get excited.
Details and spoilers for a moral dilemma I have created for myself in the fic below the cut. I don't know how to warn exactly but minor tw "playing hard to get" mentality and the ickyness that can come from that.
I also had a really angsty thought last night that I think works really well but I don't know how to resolve it in a satisfying way. Or at least in a way I feel readers will find satisfying. Because there's a pretty clear red line crossed, people feel terrible and talk and forgive each other. Even though it's fantasy I think the situation is really realistic. But it's also a situation that the internet at least has little forgiveness for.
Wooyoung is a powerful sort of like demi God level fae. His "domain" is charm and attraction and he sort recharges his magic through physical touch. Not just sex but ya know that works too (though not actually any better than cuddling.)
San ends up making a warlock pact with him to save his sister. Wooyoung is very upfront about how his magic works and does not at all demand or expect sex or any sort of touching from San. But eventually they get to the point where they are comfortable enough for Wooyoung to be more clingy and flirty. And though another thing that happens, Wooyoung realizes San is very much attracted to him and pursues him. San as good as says he's just playing hard to get. Wooyoung really does nothing wrong.
But San is resisting more from emotional complications. I mean mortal and fae, patron and warlock plus Yeosang... it's complicated. Wooyoung maybe kinda gets this but it's never spelled out.
Anyway Wooyoung kinda corners San and with some magic sex pollen type shenannigans, San gets pushed past his comfort level. They don't have sex, it's just basically a really intense make out session.
But San in his kinda worked up state, accuses Wooyoung of assuming San was playing hard to get when he really wanted none of it. Saying hes been pushing him too much all along. Which is true again in an emotional sense but not in the physical.
But Wooyoung takes it in the physical sense which San intends at the moment. And he is understandably upset and apologetic. He tries very hard to recognize that his magic, the thing that makes him him, has the ability to make people very uncomfortable. He tries so very, very hard to be considerate and /good/ about it. (He's a good boy, the bestest alright?) And to find out he hurt/upset someone he cares about, even after trying so hard to be careful... it's understandably distressing for him.
When Yeosang hears about this, he tear's San a new one because he knows exactly what's going on. Two of the three idiots in love make up... mostly because San has some words for Yeosang during that convo too, so there's still that aspect.... and the story continues.
The problem is, while I think that it's obvious San was more in the wrong, people can be weird about that sort of fuzzy-ish consent. I shouldn't care but I do. I'll be so sad if people hate Wooyoung for it.
I am also struggling with how Wooyoung will ever be able to trust San again if he pulls this. It's such an important core belief type thing for him that having it disrespected and turned against him... there's really no way for San to make it up to him, right? Wooyoung just has to choose to forgive and trust him again. Which I don't think is bad necessarily. People fuck up, even this bad, and it's okay to forgive sometimes. But that's another thing the internet is pretty iffy on. One mistake on this level is tantamount to murder and unforgiveable. Which again I shouldn't care. I'm usually good at not caring, but I kinda do in this case.
And then I question... is it too ooc to have San do that? Which is maybe why i care about readers opinions so much.. because I'm unsure. I dunno I think I'll just have to get there and write it and see how it plays out.
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bitches-and-bucket-hats · 9 months ago
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17:24 09/06/24 London UK
the last time i posted on this blog i was 19. i read the tags i left under the posts i reblogged, heartbroken about some boy i liked. i didnt use any names or any defining features, and i cant even pin down who i was speaking about by looking at the date. since these posts ive not felt anything for anyone (apart from a 'crush' i hit on a few times out of boredom, mental illness, and most notably drunken carelessness). since these posts theres been a pandemic, 2 degrees, lost friendships, and a bout of true self destruction that my 2014 self would pride herself on.
im now 23 with scars normally seen on someone 10 years younger, an unshakable prison of guilt due to my theorised alcoholism, and most confusing of all, an impenetrable wall of intimacy. i prayed and hoped into the universe to stop me from feeling what i did in these posts and now i find myself not sure if love exists for me. in one of the tags i said "dont fall into anyone else but yourself". 4 years later i cant ask for help despite my safety being in danger, and im so removed from romantic feelings im ashamed viewing or thinking about anything connected to intimacy. i wanted the feeling to go away but i failed to realize that feeling was what kept me on earth, what made me 'mortal' or applicable to the rules of the world. i feel like a god, an elusive figure with different standards and manifestations as everyone else. i fail to exist in the world i logically know im in. i feel guilt on every action every step i take and when i hold back on doing anything out of fear i hyperfixate on things ive done in a drunken rage for any connection to a human because of the starvation in my sober 'existance'. i feel as if i went into covid and died there. i never fully came back. i felt romantically and sexually stunted, but made progress in drunken nights, i felt like a party girl who loved a good time. now i know im an unloveable alcoholic. i felt as if the time i needed to settle into my progress and discovery is gone. it was stolen from me. i had hope and wit and intelligence and fun; and none of these survived the fire. i was about to write about how i have had good experiences learning about myself but i am wrong! i have had those but this does not account for the disturbance we had that left nothing behind. the sprouts didnt survive the frost. i wasnt given enough time to figure it out. I am so angry at the world for taking this from me and yet all i feel is sadness and a lack of control.
talk in general about my pain but its about the capability of recieving love. something i know i do not deserve or am capable of. if this is to be read by anyone other that myself do not tell me otherwise because i do not believe in your words or sentiment and i believe you are a mortal in a mortal world and i am simply not able to function in the same way as you. i believe i am fundementally different to you in that my story, as given by the universe, does not function in the slightest bit in the lens of romance and love. i show up in other colors of the universe but the red of love, i disappear. i fear my life i have hurt myself so much ive disrupted my chances of making it out, and i grasp onto the one person that revealed the smallest glimmer of hope that i could exist in this world. and trust me reader when i say glimmer i mean the smallest flash of hope, its even foolish to put it into words. i do not feel fundamentally flawed and incapable of love, i have graduated to feeling as if the human pleasures and desires are not my calling, and i am doomed to live in a world in which i do not exist. how the fuck do i live in a world that i do not exist? i exist in moments, sure, but my self is not realized or even has the potential to be fully realized.
how do i accept my existence as a being incapable of giving and receiving love? but more importantly, how do I stop feeling so lonely?
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utterly-mediocre · 1 year ago
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A collection of letters from a lovesick and naive girl
To you, who still manages to capture my heart after all these years,
I’m not even sure if you would ever be able to read this. I’m a coward, as evident by the way I bottled up these emotions and watched you from afar for years rather than actually trying to convey to you how I feel, in real life. So here I am, compiling a collection of my thoughts- most of it coming to me at ungodly hours of the night- and hiding behind a screen. It seems I haven’t matured much at all from that first time I laid my eyes on you.
Anyway, on the incredibly rare occasion that I do somehow figure out a way to deliver this to you, I hope you take the time out of your day to read this. I’ve come to terms that I would never be anything special to you, but that still doesn’t mean that I’m not absolutely smitten over you. I’m not expecting anything to come out of this, honestly, I just want this out of my system. So don’t worry about reciprocating my feelings or anything like that, I’m perfectly fine with how things are as is.
This, I guess you could call it a letter?, would contain a little section of mini letters and each mini letter will be numbered according to a playlist. Most of the songs listed are actually what I was listening to while I was writing whatever I was thinking. You might think this is too much hassle for someone trying- emphasis on trying- to let go of their feelings and to be honest, you’re right. I’m just over dramatic. Nevertheless, I do hope you somehow are able to read this, someday.
--
;golden hour
I Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift
II Risk It All - Yuna
III I've Never Been In Love Before - Laufey
IV Love Letter From The Sea To The Shore - Delaney Bailey
VI Sunlight - Hozier
--
I Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift
“All I know is a simple name /
And everything has changed”
I don't actually remember the specifics of when I had truly fallen for you. You had crept so slowly into my heart and the depths of my mind that eventually I found that you were all that I could think of.
I used to jokingly say it was love at first sight but that isn't really true. It was more like gradually getting pulled towards you, and a sense of familiarity that I can’t quite put my finger on took root in the crevices of my soul, it’s tendril wrapped tightly around my heart. It felt as though my soul had known you before and now that I've met you again, a desperation to get close to you makes itself known with every time our eyes meet. I could feel the centre of my universe shifting slowly towards you the very moment my eyes laid on you.
I keep thinking of that one time my hand had brushed against yours and almost every night since then, I wonder what it would be like if I held your hand in mine. Would it fit perfectly? Would it feel as warm as I imagined? I find myself yearning for your presence, and my eyes would always subconsciously search for you.
It was a new and scary feeling, but it felt so, so good.
--
II Risk It All - Yuna
“I would risk it all, just to feel your touch /
I just want it all, if it ain't too much”
I've always been scared of authority figures ever since I was a young child, and I carried that throughout my life. And so, I've decided early on to not tell you my feelings. I took one look at it, and with shaking hands, I buried it to the back of my mind. Because I was so scared of the consequences. I was so scared of that omnipotent God I spent my whole life fearing. And to be completely honest, I still feel that paralyzing fear sinking deep into my bones sometimes. My heart is bursting at the seams and each time I see you around I feel like screaming out how much I wanted to be yours but I’d find that the words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth.
I tried everything to lose these feelings and to pretend that I'm a good, pious child. Frustratingly, nothing ever seemed to work. The more I tried to push the thoughts of you away, the more my heart craves you. It was a new sensation, and it probably is the worst pain I had ever experienced. It was as though someone had ripped my heart out, replaced it with pebbles and forced me to live normally. But it’s impossible to do so, everything reminds me of you. I couldn’t help but imagine a world where I could freely love you without any reservations. A different world where I either could be yours or find a healthier way to move on instead of mulling over what could've been if I wasn't such a spineless fool.
And yet, now I feel as though I would be able to break free from all the restrictions if it meant that I could be by your side. For you, I would gladly break the stifling rules of my religion. What’s heaven got that I can’t find by being with you anyway? I’d much rather endure the fiery pits of hell with your hand held firmly in mine.
--
III I've Never Been In Love Before - Laufey
“So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in /
I've really never been /
In love before"
Try as I might, I would never be able to fully express how deeply my feelings for you run. I could try to compare you to the stars, the ocean, the flowers, the galaxies; all of the world's wonders. I could try to compare you to a million different things but the language runs dry. Everything pales in comparison to you.
I work hard to be poetic in expressing my feelings for you anyway, but it's all too overwhelming and passionate and it's overflowing out of my chest. Not just in love but completely submerged in it, permeated by it, to the point that I find the words that I try to string together no longer make sense. You've truly enchanted me and now I'm rendered a mess.
You might find it weird. I get it. I’ll admit that it is. I don’t truly know you, only the fragments of yourself that you decide to show others. But I cling to those pieces anyway and try my best to store it in my memories, as though it would ever be of use. Because it wouldn't. I would never be yours.
--
IV Love Letter From The Sea To The Shore - Delaney Bailey
“Like the tourist comes back to the beach /
I come back to you for more and more and more”
Did you know that humans are made of stardust? Well, not quite, but it's been said that the very elements that exist in our body came from exploded stars. Which means that the atoms of my left hand may come from a different star from my right, and maybe some of the atoms that were meant to be in my body had ended up in yours.
Because, even if I somehow find it in myself to not think of you anymore and so much time has passed, a part of me will forever be yours. At this point in time, I have no true desire to pursue you since I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m just not meant to be yours a long time ago. However, I still find that my mind keeps coming back to you. Every train of thought that I have, even if it initially didn’t have anything to do with you, would inevitably lead me to think of you. Everything that I know about you (though it's not much, I'd admit that) is carved into my brain and I have no way of getting it out. I think of you so endlessly that I feel as though the last star in the universe might fizzle out and die before I can even begin to try to forget you. It’s honestly corny but it’s true. You will forever be in the forefront of my mind.
--
V Sunlight - Hozier
“Know that I would gladly be /
The Icarus to your certainty /
Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight"
Once, on a particularly lazy afternoon, my mother showed me a video completely unprompted. We were laying on the living room rug then, and I was about to doze off while watching the television but instead she thrusted her phone into my face, playing a video of a couple getting whipped and punished and I could feel myself freeze. I was laying so close to her then, our shoulders almost touching. I remember the disgust, both for myself and for the policemen punishing them, coiling tighter and tighter in my stomach that I could barely hold myself together. I waited a few hours until my mother decided to take her nap before running and emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.
I do wonder, though. Would God really have condemned those who commit sodomy if he were put in my shoes and saw just how divine you looked with the sunlight perfectly framing your silhouette, forming an almost golden halo above your head with your smile as blinding as the sun? Would he not understand at that very moment why I had spent so many years adoring you in secret when the thought of actually accepting that part of myself made me feel nauseated? But even if he didn't, does it matter? Heaven and hell are mere words to me now. If I wanted to find something to devote my faith to, shouldn't I devote it to you instead? It feels more religious, rather than devoting myself to a God who had claimed to create me, all the while condemning me for something I can no more control than I can control my heartbeat.
--
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alkalineoffering · 2 years ago
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i'm in waking hell and the gods grow tired.
iv could feel it creeping onto him, chilling cold seeping into his limbs and slowly overtaking his core. he was easily immobilized without given the chance to resist. he wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or not – fully conscious but the only thing he was able to visually perceive was a darkness darker than anything he could fathom. this was how it felt to turn into a cold, forgotten body: something he would be without sleep. sleep. that was who came to him now. he knew it – there was no mistaking this feeling of being known yet seeing nor understanding any entity. the feeling of being watched clawed up his spine painfully, a gasp falling and echoing from iv’s lips.
“you thought you could run away from me, iv,” was the response, distant laughter reverberating in iv’s ears. his eardrums felt as if they would burst. it would have been a relief if they did.
“you, of all of them, should have been my most loyal. i was the only one to ever understand you and clear the fog in your mind. you should be begging me to take you as my vessel. not even jonah – your precious, beloved jonah – understood you fully,” sleep taunted, iv wishing he could cover his ears. but, his hands stayed numb at his sides.
he attempted to speak, throat closing up as if some sort of force wrapped around his neck. it was tight and painful, iv choking on any words that he was going to say. the force did not loosen.
“do not speak. you’ve been manipulated and betrayed, iv. you poor, pathetic thing,” it continued, an invisible hand sliding up his front to find the last mark jonah had gifted him with. his lungs were burning and struggling as his consciousness threatened to leave him. his body already felt as if it had died, it would only make sense his soul would be the next to go – undoubtedly devoured by the god that currently had it’s grip on him. suddenly, his airway was opened and his lungs reacted naturally. he gasped and sputtered for breath, throat raw.
“n-no,” he whispered, voice ragged and worn between desperate pants. he knew something had happened to jonah if sleep was here with him now. he had to keep himself strong against the other’s will for jonah’s sake. but, despite his usually confident and calm nature, he was as susceptible to doubts as any other – especially when they were injected into his mind as directly as this.
pain exploded along his jaw as he was hit by sleep’s hand. he was sure the bone was shattered, a feral cry escaping him. he couldn’t move away. he couldn’t curl up to cradle himself. he could do nothing but feel his body process each ruined nerve and cracked piece of bone. “they don’t want you! they never wanted you. jonah doesn’t give a single fuck about you,” sleep growled.
iv was willing to wake, wishing someone would bring him to the physical world again. he wanted to escape. he wanted to be free. his tears were hot against his skin as he whimpered helplessly. “you’re a smart little thing. you know why i’m here. jonah wasn’t the right vessel. he was useless. vessel was useless. neither ever followed me like you did, iv,” sleep said calmly, almost soothingly. he could feel something caress his cheek, head flinching away from the touch.
“don’t be afraid. jonah and vessel both said i should come to you. you mean nothing to them. they are using you just to be together. they betrayed us both, when we both were so loyal and kind to them. we gave them everything. and, it wasn’t enough. they’re greedy, iv. you are a pawn. you are discarded. just like your family, they only see you as a burden to get rid of.”
iv didn’t want to believe it, but it felt too true. it made sense. it never bothered him before, but jonah did have his preferences – and he never fell under one of them. he was in love with jonah, but he knew he would never get that same level of love back – especially when he was given up to sleep like this in favour of vessel.
“make it stop. make the pain stop,” he begged, words slurring from pain and the damage done to his face. “i want to be loved.” pathetic. he was the most pathetic creature he knew.
“say you’ll accept me, iv. i never hurt you, have i? i’m the only consistent thing in your life.”
“i accept,” he said. the next thing he knew, the pain was gone. he felt suddenly crushed inside the walls of himself. without the pain muddling his thoughts, iv started to realise the weight of what he’d just done. there was no stopping it, though, as his body began to finally move – but not of his own accord.
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shurislover · 2 years ago
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Surprise Pregnancy
Letitia Wright x Black Fem Reader
You hid your pregnancy from Letitia for about 3 months now. You know she’s wanted kids for the longest and you were happy to make that wish come true for her.
A/N : mentions of m!scarriage & b!ood.
mom!letitia mom!reader pregnant!reader
idk how many words i don’t count lol
————————————————————————-
Flashback
Guilt is what you felt. You felt like it was your fault. You blamed yourself non stop for having a miscarriage. Despite Letitia comforting you and letting you know things happen , and we never know what God has planned for us.
You still had this feeling deep down that it was your fault.
———
“ Baby I don’t feel okay , my stomach is in pain again and I’m not sure why .”- You whined as you spoke to your girlfriend on the phone
“ I’m on my way right now, does it feel like cramps , like the same pain you’ve been feeling since like yesterday ?”- Letitia questioned
You watched through facetime as she sped through the streets of London, whispering curse words if people were in her way or not moving
“ Yeah but it feels worse this time , I think - you breathed slowly
“ I think i’m gonna call 911 I don’t feel okay.” - You felt hot tears rolling down your face
“ Baby I’m pulling in the driveway.”- Letitia replied
Not even 2 seconds , your girlfriend burst through the door to find you on the floor. She picked you up bridal style and carried you to the car
“ I hope the baby is okay, I really do.”- You whispered. “ I hope so too .”- Letitia nodded and she drove off to the emergency room.
The pain would go away and then come back. But each time it came back the pain would be worse. It felt like getting kicked in the stomach multiple times. You both arrived at the hospital and Letitia took no time to carry you bridal style into the emergency room.
“ Hello how may I help you guys today ?”- The nurse smiled
“ My- my girlfriend is having stomach pains. She’s about 13 weeks pregnant and has been having pain off and on for about 2 days now .”- Letitia replied
“ Has she had any bleeding ?”- She questioned
“ Not anything heavy. It’s been really light or spotty. But today it was a little more heavy than before .”- You groaned
“ I will have someone with you very soon , please take a seat in the waiting area .” The nurse replied
You both took a seat in the waiting room , you hated being here. You never liked seeing people sick or in pain so you avoided coming to the emergency room but this time you needed to come. You needed to make sure your baby was okay. In the back of your mind you were worried, like really worried. This worry had you thinking the worse.
“ Y/N Y/L/N ?”- A female nurse called out
As you stood up you felt liquid rolling down your leg.
“ Baby you’re bleeding.”- Letitia whispered
Before you were able to get any words out you started to feel lightheaded and suddenly everything went black.
Letitia’s POV
“ She should be waking up soon.” - The nurse reassured
You were were worried. You’ve never seen your girlfriend pass out before. You were worried for not only her but for the baby.
“ Do you know why she passed out and is the baby okay? “- You questioned
“ She passed out due to low electrolytes, so she has an IV right now.”-
“ And i’m sorry to tell you this…
Letitia started to breath heavily , she was about to hear a sentence she never wanted to hear
“ You girlfriend has suffered a miscarriage, i’m so sorry Ms.Wright.”- The nurse frowned
As tears rolled down your cheeks you heard your name being called
“ Baby where are you ?”-
You ran back into your girlfriends hospital room and kissed her forehead “ I’m right here baby , how are you feeling ?”- You spoke while trying to hide the pain in your voice.
“ I’m so tired. What even happened?”- She questioned
“ You passed out.”
“ Is the baby okay ? Please tell me the baby is okay ?”- She whined
You watch as she started to slightly panic, you grabbed her hand and gave her a quick kiss.
“Baby.. you had a miscarriage “- Your girlfriend snatched her hands away and turned her back towards you
“ Is it my fault ?” -She questioned
“ No “- You slightly shouted back
“ None of this is your fault baby, things happen.” You replied
end
——-
Y/Ns POV
A year had passed and you both decided to try having a baby again. When you got a positive test you decided on keeping it to yourself because you didn’t want to get Letitia’s hopes up again.
You didn’t show very much but you did have a small belly which you blamed on weight gain from all the food you’d eat on the different vacations you went on.
“ Baby can you come to the kitchen i have something for you “- You shouted
You heard your girlfriend run down the steps “Keep running in the house and you’re going to bust your ass”- you laughed
“ You’d kiss it to make it feel better “- Letitia smirked
“Anyways I have a surprise for you. “ You handed her a small box “ I worked really hard on this so I hope you love it. “
“ I love everything you give me baby. “ She pulled you close and pecked you on your lips
You stood back and watched her carefully untie the ribbon on the box. The first thing she noticed when she opened the box was a note.
“ Buckle up an adventure is about to begin “
“ Ooo are we going on a trip ?” She asked “ You have to finish opening the box”- You added
She pulled out a small white t-shirt
“ Girl ? who is this gonna fit”- Letitia questioned
“ Turn it around “- You jokingly sighed. She turned the shirt around which had
“ Baby Wright Loading 2023”
Letitia looked at you, then looked at the shirt and in the box where your positive pregnancy test laid
“ No fucking way.” -She whispered
“Yes fucking way , 3 months today baby “ -You smiled and rubbed your belly
Letitia quickly stood up and pulled you into a hug, you could feel her tears on your shoulder as she rested her head in the crook of your neck.
“ We having a baby “ - You whispered
Letitia pulled away and smiled. “ I’m so in shock, I’m so lost for words. I’m just so overwhelmed with happiness.”
“ Hiding this from you was so hard, but so worth it, i was scared to get your hopes up again because we all knew what happened last time.”- You shrugged
She pulled you in for a tight hug. “ Baby I love you so much it hurts. Im gonna always stuck beside you no matter what, I don’t care what goes on in our relationship I’m gonna stick beside you. God really blessed us with another miracle and im forever grateful I get to experience this with you.” Letitia smiled
————————————————————————
trying to think if i like this one lmao. idk. but it’s something to put out while i work on my other story.
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reidsnose · 4 years ago
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love letters
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overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom
genre: fluff fluff fluff
a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)
masterlist
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the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.
it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.
"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.
you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.
"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.
"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.
"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.
"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.
"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.
before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.
and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.
you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.
of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.
you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.
spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.
and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.
he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.
"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.
he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.
"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.
"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.
you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.
"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.
he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.
he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.
a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.
he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.
unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.
he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.
you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.
"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.
"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.
"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.
you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!
"ill help you look" you decided.
"please do," he chuckled.
"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.
"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"
his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.
you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.
you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.
is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.
you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"
with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.
dear y/n,
today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that
dear y/n,
im in love with you. too forward
dear y/n,
you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep
you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.
"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.
"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.
"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"
"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.
"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."
"youre not mad?"
"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"
"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.
"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.
he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."
you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.
-
-
ultra mega super cool taglist
@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru
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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago
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okay as a chubby girl myself I struggle with how I see myself and this idea makes my heart KSHDHSJS
okay so imagine IMAGINE
Request maybe 🤔🤔🤔
Okay,, you’re standing in the mirror yk in your mirror at technos house/cottage in your underwear and stuff, grabbing at the chub and stuff looking upset and not feeling good about yourself, and techno walking into the room and seeing this. yk him being upset that you feel that way Bc he thinks youre just so pretty 🥺.
IT COULD EITHER GO INTO A SMUT( 😏 where he SHOWS you how much he loves you and how pretty he thinks you are in the mirror) OR FLUFF WITH SOFT WORDS AND CUDDLES or both idk
*slams hand on desk* IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS
I went with both, because I like options. I also based this off a little personal feelings so I hope it works!
My Goddess- Technoblade
Warnings: self conscious reader, swearing, NSFW
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   The mirror. Your best, but worst nightmare imaginable. Some days you could look into it and see beauty within your curves. Spend endless minutes hyping yourself up. 'Man I look good' 'I am the fucking shit' 'damn look at that' all little things you tell yourself in pride. Because in those moments, you feel powerful. In those moments you feel like you own the world, that others are just lucky to breathe within your presence.
   However, there are bad days. There are days when looking into the mirror brings shame. Days when all you can do is grab at your stomach, and ponder of what you could have done, or what you will do. Its pressed that everyone is perfect in our own imaginable ways. Yet when you look at others, you cant help but be envious. Others can get away with wearing tight clothing, baggy clothing, any type of clothing. Yet when you try it on all you see is a box, if you wear tight clothing, every roll and muffin top pops out. It can be embarrassing.
   Techno never saw your curves as embarrassing however. He loved them. He loved the plush, soft skin of your tummy or your thighs. Your hips? don't even ask what he thought on hips, as long as they were yours. They were perfect.
   With that said, when he saw you saddened about your form he was slightly hurt. You thought he was beautiful, a hybrid of a monster. But yet you couldn't find the beauty within your rolls? Your plump little form? The very thing that made up you? If he ever found out who planted these seeds of lies in your mind, he would have words.
   If you felt confident enough to take the world by the horns, he let you. He would build you up with sweet words of encouragement. 'Well don't you look amazing...' 'you are looking beautiful as ever'. They were small phrases but they meant a lot to you.
   Techno isn't verbal with his love, or compliments really. He chooses to show it, words are just that. Words. Actions are done, are shown. They are physically put into motion. That's why he prefers it. But he also understands sometimes words are needed. They are needed to ease your nerves and doubtful mind.
   when he catches you glaring at your plump form in the mirror, he cant help but quickly move to your side. Kneeling and kissing up your body. Your arms, your thighs, everything. In the beginning he would let you look away. The idea of someone liking your body type left you uncertain, many times you would ponder if his endless kisses were done as a joke. But each and every time he would reassure you that it was real. That him loving you, loving your body. It wasn't in pity, it was in genuine love.
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   Tonight was one of those bad nights. With Techno in the bath, you were left to change for bed. Wait for him to come out, and then cuddle the night away until the sun kissed the horizon.
   But well you changed your eyes fell to the mirror. Your eyes casually roamed your body. You were used to looking at it so nothing stood out of course. But as you shifted, you caught a few stretch marks within the candle light. They looked like streaks of lightning that were dragged across your skin. With a quick glance away, you pulled something over your form. Wanting to cover your body and deal with that mental baggage later.
   Of course the Hybrid that stood tall within the door frame held other ideas about that moment. The one thing that always put you at ease was Techno's size. Before you were in a relationship with him, you feared you wouldn't be able to wear your lovers clothing. Being a bit plumper meant "one size fit all" did not fit all. But luckily, with your roughly 6ish/7ish foot Piglin Hybrid of a lover, all of his clothing was a bit baggy on you. Technoblade was a very Built man, this came from his never ending training and his natural born strength of course. But even with him being built and big, the first time he asked you to sit on his lap had you hesitant. What if he found you too heavy? The idea of him asking you to move off would leave you completely mentally ruined. Of course when you finally sat he didn't utter any words besides praises. His hands running gently over your thighs, with a tight grasp he kept you close. When Techno saw you ease into his lap more often, he took pride in knowing you were comfortable enough to do it on a daily basis. That was when he upped the bar again. The day he asked you to sit on his face was the day you had a heart attack. You were so paranoid you would crush him. Of course he was all bemused smirks well you tried to think of excuses. Yet this man was able to ease your nerves and reassure you until you were comfortable once again. You would never forget how giddy he was to be between your thighs. That was the day he found his favorite spot.
   Before you could ease some bottoms over your underwear, this man had his arms around you. Pushing against your hands. His nose was nuzzled into your neck muttering gently "Please, leave them off for now..." with a brow raised you complied. You let the shorts drop to the floor, assuming you would be coming for them in a brief moment. You could smell the lingering sent from his shampoo. The fresh smell giving you great comfort.
   Techno moved you back to face the mirror, his head moving briefly so he could see you face yourself. With a light stubble scratching against your neck you felt the goosebumps rise. Your eyes met his ruby ones within the mirror. "Do you know, how beautiful you are?..." he asked rhetorically. Dragging out the words that he felt were important. You wanted to say no, but knew he wouldn't want that answer.
   "I think I'm alright..." you said softly. He hummed and pressed a loving kiss to your neck. His hands slowly fell down to the buttons of the shirt you were wearing. Skillfully he undid them without thought. When you had pulled a shirt on you didn't think much, but now saw that it was his you wore. Of course he didn't mind, he never minded.
   With the buttons undone he opened the shirt to expose your naked form. Every curve and roll on sweet display for him "You are beyond 'alright'... alright is basic. You know my goddess is beyond mortal definitions..." you gave a gentle smile at his charm, glancing away from his eyes. He didn't allow this tonight however. Instead he took your jaw and gently redirected it to the mirror. Meeting his gaze again.
   "My love... My goddess, you know your body rivals the gods, yes?..." you slightly shrugged, unsure if this was true. With another loving kiss he continued. "Persephone had rolls... She was just as plump as you my love..." you fallowed his eyes gently. Him comparing you to the beautiful goddess left you feeling better. If someone so divine could have rolls why couldn't you?
   He didn't stop there however. "If you cant see your beauty. Let me show you how beautiful you are..." his tone was pleading. Like a animal begging for spare scraps. You watched his eyes, his finger and thumb having control over your chin. You thought on his words and gave a brief nod to him. Trusting him and whatever he had planned.
   Instead of immediately kissing you all over, he pulled away. Firmly telling you to keep your eyes on the mirror. You felt a bit awkward standing there, your legs shifting closer underneath you. He soon came back however, his crown in hand. You could also see he had a simple gray towel around his waist, showing he was fresh from the bath.
   Your curiosity with the crown lingered, but you watched as he put it on your head. "You are a queen... My Queen... You will always be reminded of your everlasting beauty for as long as you are with me..." for not complementing a lot, tonight he was on a roll. Your eyes ran over the crown. The delicate and bright stones contrasting the shimmering gold well against your skin.
   He walked around to the front of you, leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss. His hand found a firm places on your hip, and on the plush skin of your ass cheek. With a gentle, but firm grasp he moved and rolled the skin beneath his hand. Loving how soft you were. With his hands working soft whimpers and moans out of you, his mouth devoured them. Eating every noise you made, cherishing them deep within his heart.
   Leaving your lips swollen he moved down. Kissing your jaw and neck. Planning to leave you a work of art. A show of how much he loves you.
   After your neck it was your chest. Soft plump breasts fitting ever so sweetly within his hands. With firm grasps he had you flushed red whimpering. Your eyes half lidded with the sweet lingering pleasure. Yet you still watched yourself and him, knowing to not disobey him.
   With soft kisses placed to the tops of your breasts and nipples he moved to your stomach. This is where you craved to look away. Wishing to hide yourself in his neck.
   "T..T-Techno..." he hummed acknowledging your words. But he still pressed light kisses down to the hem of your underwear.
  “Keep your eyes on the mirror." He said, pulling them down. Helping you step out of the discarded clothing. You couldn't see his face. Only his backside was facing the mirror, and even then his long wet hair hid most of his toned back.
   His fingers ran through your slit briefly. His rings offered a major temperature difference between your heat and the cold metal. With a little squirm his hands moved and held you in place. Desiring to keep you in place before he moved his head in and started to devour you. Eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.
   With a ever so sinful cry, you gripped at his hair. Begging for your knee's to not give out. With one hand on his head, the other one flew to the crown on your head. Trying to keep it on well you easily hunched over from the overwhelming pleasure. Techno never failed to leave you speechless- or should we say, he never left you quiet. Even if you could see yourself, you didn't think you would be able to focus much. Your eyes were tightly shut well your mouth ran between being in a 'O' and being locked shut.
   He did pull back from your folds to speak. Earning a cry from you. You were getting close and him pulling away was painful. "You can cum. But you have to keep your eyes open" you nodded profusely. Agreeing to anything if it meant feeling his lips back on you. He lingering a moment. Making sure your eyes opened before he leaned back. Taking his time to show your clit attention before going back to his main course.
   With your eyes looking back at you. You were unsure if you were ashamed with how blissed out you looked or happy. The whole scene in itself was erotic. You were incredibly small compared to the giant between your legs. His only drive to please you completely. Your eyes never left the mirror as he ate you out to your climax. Your hips stuttering and bucking, but proving no use to his iron grip. When you came he waisted no time at cleaning it up. He had no shame, that your cum was running down his chin. He was happy when you were pleased. And he knows you are definitely pleased after that climax.
   But he wasn't finished. With your legs weakening he helped you down onto his lap. He let you collect yourself against his chest for a few moments his hand ran over your back.
   "Doin' ok there Princess?..." you nodded slowly. Your chest rising and falling fast well you try and calm yourself. "Think you can do one more?" You nodded again well he pressed a kiss to your forehead, acknowledging your response. Adjusting his crown on your head, he moved so the mirror was beside you two. Showing both of your bodies, with the towel acting as a thin barrier.
   When you both were situated he did remove the towel. With a strong arm he lifted you up and positioned his hardened cock at your entrance, wasting no spare moment to fill you up. Well you did try to hide within his neck, it proved no use. He made sure to turn your head to the mirror.
   With your eyes hitting the mirror you saw how his head was beside yours. Your cheek was pressed to his chest well his was pressed to your forehead. His eyes lingeried your body. Drowning in your blissed out form. He found you utterly perfect.
   Well your bodies were connected, it almost looked like art. With techno's sharp gaze and your blissed out reddened cheeks, the contrast was there but yet they went together in perfect harmony. With the roll of his hips he made sure to keep your eyes on the mirror. Wanting to drag out every cry and moan you could utter. He set his pace at a rhythmic thrust, wanting to not only pleasure you, but himself as well. Well you griped to his sides, he kept his hand on he back of your head gently. Wanting to keep your head facing the mirror. With sweet sinful praises he coached you to a second orgasm, his fallowing close behind. He kissed your head gently, keeping you close to him well he felt himself soften. when his eyes met yours in the mirror he smiled softly. 
“Look at how beautiful you are... Always so, so beautiful Princess...”
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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago
Text
ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ
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ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader
(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T
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“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.
You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.
You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.
You remember that night so vividly.
The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.
You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.
“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.
You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…
“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.
“Oh, hey Buck.”
“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”
Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.
“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.
“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.
“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…
“Buck,” you looked at him.
“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.
“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.
His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.
“You coming tonight?” he whispered.
“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.
“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.
“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.
“Probably not,” you answer his question.
“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.
“Steve,” you warned.
“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”
“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.
“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.
“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.
“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.
“Please come tonight,” he whispered.
“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.
“Fuck off,” he chuckled.
“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”
“Maybe,” he grinned.
“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.
Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.
He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.
Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.
"What are you doing?" you whispered.
"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.
"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.
"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.
"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.
You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.
"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”
"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.
Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.
By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.
"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.
"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.
"What happened?" Nat asked.
"That guy, that I… you know."
"Fucked?"
"Nat!" you said embarrassed.
"Go on," Wanda encouraged.
"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.
"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.
"You're lying," Nat laughed.
"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.
"Guys stop," you whined.
"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."
"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.
"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.
"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.
“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.
“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.
“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.
“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.
“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.
“Why?” you asked.
“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.
“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.
“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.
“No,” you giggled.
“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.
Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.
You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.
There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.
"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.
"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.
"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.
"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.
"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.
"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.
"And yes, I am," she chuckled.
"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.
"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.
"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.
“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.
"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.
"I'm sure," you smiled.
"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.
"Yeah, I doubt that."
"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.
"You too!"
You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.
You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.
You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.
“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.
“Seriously what are you doing here?”
“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.
“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.
“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.
“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.
“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.
“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.
“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.
You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?
“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.
“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.
“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.
“What?”
“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.
“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.
“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.
“What?”
“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”
“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.
“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”
“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.
“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.
“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.
Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.
Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.
He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.
He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?
He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.
When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.
You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.
He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.
When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.
“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.
“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.
“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.
“I feel like your just using me or something-”
“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.
“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”
“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.
“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.
“What?”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.
You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.
“Are you drunk?” you whispered.
“Not one bit.”
You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.
Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.
With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.
"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.
He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.
"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.
"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.
"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.
"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"
"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."
Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.
Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.
You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.
"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.
He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.
"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.
"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.
Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.
Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.
Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.
“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.
His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.
Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.
You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.
He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.
Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.
“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.
“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.
“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.
“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.
His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.
He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.
“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.
“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.
“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.
His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.
Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.
“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.
“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.
“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.
“Please!”
“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.
You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.
“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.
“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.
Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.
“Please,” you whimpered.
“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.
Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.
When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.
“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.
“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.
“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.
“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.
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